Musical creation


Just a thousand words this evening, but a meaningful thousand. I am listening to Tintagel, by Arnold Bax. I’ve turned the lights out, and suddenly I am writing away like a man on a mission. I have come to the point in this little beast where it needs to know where it came from. I need some bones for my meat (not a nice image). The music certainly helps suspend the feelings of acute embarrassment when I try to write in a serious style. I am much more prone to pissing about when I write – pithy stuff, but fun. But I would guess it’s something that has to be done. It sure is a difficult thing to quell!
But quell I did, albeit only for a moment. I now have a flimsy embryonic set of bones upon which to hang some more of this worldbuilding, er, skin.
It’s getting so I have to pick my music listening based upon the plot I have to cover. Not a bad mechanism, if it works. Well, we’ll find out one day in the distant future if it does. Or not…

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