Writing with Music – SOLSC Day #13

I awoke before the alarm clock this morning, put on some music (ear buds of course – all four kids still sleeping) and did some serious writing.  Lately, music has helped me find my writing rhythm.  About a year ago, I started to track my playlist when I’m writing.  My playlist for this morning: Pearl Jam (The Essential – Rearview mirror) and Phish (Hoist)

Here’s an excerpt:

From here, the view is amazing.  The city buildings look so small and smoke is billowing from the stacks of the factories on the far end near the lake.  Every city street looks like its glazed with ice.  There more likely covered in salt and sand.  Winter makes the city look like a fantasy world.

I walk along the fence and head towards the reservoir road that leads to the bottom.  Unfortunately, the road isn’t covered by the hill, so the headwind leaves me with a chill that takes my breath away, and my sweat starts to feel sticky and cold.

A car is approaching on the emergency road.  It slows and pulls up next to me.

“Hey, Griff.  I thought that I’d find you here.  You’re just like your brother.  A creature of habit.” Coach has a big smile on his face and stops beside me.  “How many miles this morning?”

“Hi, Coach, I ran four and then did reservoir runs.”

“How many?”

“Thirty.”

The back window rolls down and Maggie, coach’s three year old daughter, says, “Hi, Griffon,” in her sing songy voice.  She sticks her little fist out the window for a fist bump.

“Griff, you do realize that most fifteen-year-olds are still sleeping.  You can take a day off.”

“You know that I love my Sunday morning workouts.  What d’ya need, Coach?”

“You know that I love my Sunday morning workouts.  What d’ya need, Coach?”

“Coach, just sit me and let Bradley play.  He and his dad won’t stop until you start him.”

“No way am I doing that to you.  Remember, I begged you to play this season.  I owe you, and I told you that I’m not caving.  They can fire me.”

“If you don’t play him, they might.”

“Get in the car and come to eat breakfast with us.  Mags would love it.  Then I’ll give you a lift home.”

I walk around the front of the car, get in the front seat, and throw my bag into the backseat next to Maggie.

“I’m getting scrambled eggs and a headlight donut. Coach Dad’ll let you get a donut if you’re good.” Maggie holds up the picture that she’s drawing.  “Look, it’s a picture of you playing hockey.”

She talks my ear off all the way to the diner.  Coach says nothing, but is smiling the whole way.

*I would love to know if others write with music.  If so, do you track your writing playlists?