At the end of Finder, Emma Bull’s author bio has a neat thing: the soundtrack for the book. She lists the songs she listened to while she was writing, and it’s pretty extensive (also, from my point of view, sort of obscure). Bull is obviously one of those writers who likes to listen to music while she writes. I had a creative writing teacher who was like that once—he always used the same Mozart concerto, and when it reached a particular passage, it was his cue to begin writing.

I’ve frequently wished I was like that, too. It seems so cool—listen to the music and it jiggles your brain right into the story. Unfortunately, I can’t do it. When I write—and when I read—I need quiet. It’s always been that way for me. I’m one of those annoying people who will tell you to quiet down in the library, or ask you to turn down your music if you’re related to me and you’re in the room next door to my study. I don’t need absolute silence, of course. If I did, I’d never get anything done. Outside my study window, for example, I’ve frequently got some energetic finches cussing each other out. But that’s the kind of music I can always manage to blot out.

I think part of the problem is that when I listen to music, I like to listen to it. I want to hear the words along with the rhythm. That leads to some conflicts with my DH when I turn on my iPod in the car—he likes a soft background mutter, while I like it loud enough to listen to what’s being sung. One of the joys of Texas singer-songwriters is their lyrics, and I want to hear them.

That doesn’t mean I sit in rapt silence while I listen, as you do in a concert hall. But the things I do while listening usually take a different part of my brain than reading or writing—playing computer solitaire, for example, or chopping onions. When I write, I need to concentrate, and the music seems to be filling the same channel in my brain as the words I’m trying to find.

Music can put me in the right mood for writing, though, even though I turn it off when I actually start work. And those songs sometimes show up in the books, as a sort of thank you to the artists for helping me get going. James McMurtry’s Red Dress shows up in Wedding Bell Blues because I wanted a really sexy song for Janie to dance to, and that song definitely qualifies. Joe Ely’s Cool Rockin’ Loretta is in Venus in Blue Jeans as a dance-around-the-shop-feeling-good song, which it really is. Some writers, like Jennifer Crusie, seem to include songs and singers in their books they want to clue you in on, like Dusty Springfield or Kirsty MacColl. If my references to McMurtry and Ely make people go out and listen to their stuff, I’d be delighted. 

But I still can’t listen to music when I’m actually writing. For that, I have to listen to the music playing in my head! So I wish I could give you the soundtrack for my books. I wish there was a soundtrack for my books. But I can’t. My mind just doesn’t work that way.  You’ll have to be satisfied with listening to the music my characters listen to. Apparently, they don’t have the same problems that I do!

So here’s a sample of what I mean. This is what the characters in Wedding Bell Blues, my second Konigsburg, Texas book are hearing. All of them are available on Spotify if you’d like to hear a sample.

Emmylou Harris, “Cattle Call”

James McMurty, “Red Dress”

Lyle Lovett, “If I Needed You”

Patsy Cline, “Faded Love”

Ray Wylie Hubbard, “Without Love (We’re Just Wastin’ Time)” (actually, Cal doesn’t specify a song, but Ray Wylie talks about playing this one at a wedding reception)

Willie Nelson, “Yesterday’s Wine”

Enjoy!