This scene takes places somewhere in the middle of Street Glass, so the year would be '89 or '90. As currently written, this scene is not intended to be included in the novel. Its purpose is to practice writing, explore the earliest beginnings of Sandy and Sophie’s relationship, explore a bit of her relationship with Adam, and have some fun that wouldn’t be appropriate for the novel. As everything is in this novel, the scene is in close third POV.
The term “track” is sometimes used here as a synonym for the verb “record.” The term “cans” is used as a synonym for “headset.” Lennie is producer as well as engineer for Sandy’s song, with only Neal assisting him; that’s why I don’t mention anyone else. The term “studio” can be a bit confusing. Used here, it refers to the specific room that the artist stands in to sing or play, not a building. If anything else confuses you, drop me a comment.
______________________
She matched his tempo perfectly. It was like they’d rehearsed this lots of times. Sandy had no idea how she could anticipate him that closely, but somehow it didn’t seem odd. In his cans, the bass line thrummed a muted heartbeat.
You took my broken soul
You picked up my shattered heart
You showed me how to fly
Giving in was never hard
Yeah it was more than healing
Well in your eyes I can see
The light of the universe
Your love has set me free
In between cascades of pealing Rickenbacker notes, Sophie slipped in an occasional "ooo" as gentle as a dove. Sandy didn't have an urge to add anything of his own; her small improv enhanced the song's energy all by itself.
You came straight as an arrow
I never had a chance to hide
I didn’t know which way to turn
But I never even tried to fight
Because you’re a part of me
I have never burned so bright
You're a warm soft shower
Coming down on a summernight
Instead of running from my pain
You wrapped me all in white
In your arms I'd gladly die
And I'll never even try to fight
Because you’re a part of me
I have never burned so bright
You're a warm soft shower
Coming down on a summer night
Coming down on a summernight . . .
Again, as the music wound down, her eyes kept the connection strong. He couldn’t even blink. When the last notes faded she lowered her head, and Sandy almost felt something physical snap apart. Realizing he’d been holding his breath, he released it and tore off his headset. He should thank her but nothing came out of his mouth.
[to be continued]
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Saturday, December 24, 2011
"writing what you know" the painless way
We’ve all heard the admonishment “write what you know”. That’s how the best stuff gets written, even in fiction, right? Never mind that inexperienced writers of sci fi and fantasy don’t get much help with applying that decree. My novel is about a guy who starts out in a street gang in Los Angeles then becomes involved with a rock band. I didn’t know facts about those things; I wasn’t even sure I knew much about guys, though that can be a problem no matter how much experience is involved.
I was a little worried about it, but the story was intended to focus on character interaction. The music part was supposed to be in the background. Ha!
A curious thing happened, gradually. I did believe that the better you know your characters, the better your story will be. When you know what really makes them tick, they come alive not just for you but for readers. Writing a convincing gangbanger meant trying to find out what that life was like—in reality, not assumptions.
No, I didn’t prowl the streets. I read. Mind you, I needed info about the lifestyle in a very particular place and time, and I discovered that in fact, not everything is on the internet. A freaking lot of stuff is, but not everything. And people can be willing to tell you that what you’ve written is “off” but not offer to help with facts. So that part is the weaker area of my research. But I haven’t given up.
Sandy is a musician in a major rock band. Okay, specifics on how high-profile, high-income folks live is also a bit of a weak spot, but I was able to find info on the music business. Music has always been the soundtrack to my life and what keeps my heart beating. So I’ve paid attention over the years to interviews. Back when roadies still set up the stage when the audience took their seats, I’d always bring binoculars and study what was happening onstage. During a show, I’d watch performers when the spotlight moved *off* them.
Everyplace I thought I might read, hear or see something interesting, I paid attention, and often picked up a tidbit or two.
Then I realized that I couldn’t keep *everything* about the music business in the background. Neal roadies for Sylvyr Star and that couldn’t be glossed over. People have written books for public consumption about how to be a roadie! I couldn’t function without the internet. Found a documentary that follows Rush’s road crew on tour.
And that’s how writing what I love turned into writing what I know. Find the thing that you can honestly say is your reason for living, and no matter what you have to do to turn it into a book, it won’t be work. Love your subject and you’ll love research. I can prove it J
I was a little worried about it, but the story was intended to focus on character interaction. The music part was supposed to be in the background. Ha!
A curious thing happened, gradually. I did believe that the better you know your characters, the better your story will be. When you know what really makes them tick, they come alive not just for you but for readers. Writing a convincing gangbanger meant trying to find out what that life was like—in reality, not assumptions.
No, I didn’t prowl the streets. I read. Mind you, I needed info about the lifestyle in a very particular place and time, and I discovered that in fact, not everything is on the internet. A freaking lot of stuff is, but not everything. And people can be willing to tell you that what you’ve written is “off” but not offer to help with facts. So that part is the weaker area of my research. But I haven’t given up.
Sandy is a musician in a major rock band. Okay, specifics on how high-profile, high-income folks live is also a bit of a weak spot, but I was able to find info on the music business. Music has always been the soundtrack to my life and what keeps my heart beating. So I’ve paid attention over the years to interviews. Back when roadies still set up the stage when the audience took their seats, I’d always bring binoculars and study what was happening onstage. During a show, I’d watch performers when the spotlight moved *off* them.
Everyplace I thought I might read, hear or see something interesting, I paid attention, and often picked up a tidbit or two.
Then I realized that I couldn’t keep *everything* about the music business in the background. Neal roadies for Sylvyr Star and that couldn’t be glossed over. People have written books for public consumption about how to be a roadie! I couldn’t function without the internet. Found a documentary that follows Rush’s road crew on tour.
And that’s how writing what I love turned into writing what I know. Find the thing that you can honestly say is your reason for living, and no matter what you have to do to turn it into a book, it won’t be work. Love your subject and you’ll love research. I can prove it J
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Scene, Sandy and Sophie recording, pt 4
This scene takes places somewhere in the middle of Street Glass, so the year would be '89 or '90. As currently written, this scene is not intended to be included in the novel. Its purpose is to practice writing, explore the earliest beginnings of Sandy and Sophie’s relationship, explore a bit of her relationship with Adam, and have some fun that wouldn’t be appropriate for the novel. As everything is in this novel, the scene is in close third POV.
The term “track” is sometimes used here as a synonym for the verb “record.” The term “cans” is used as a synonym for “headset.” Lennie is producer as well as engineer for Sandy’s song, with only Neal assisting him; that’s why I don’t mention anyone else. The term “studio” can be a bit confusing. Used here, it refers to the specific room that the artist stands in to sing or play, not a building. If anything else confuses you, drop me a comment.
______________________
Movement through the control room window caught Sandy‘s eye. Lennie and Neal glanced at each other with the wide-eyed look that said We’ve got magic here. Sandy read Adam’s lips: She could make the devil sing like an angel.
They would’ve recorded that first effort, but the technical aspects were settled now. This take would be for real.
Sophie waited several seconds past the last audible notes before speaking in a very low voice. “Good, honey. Now do it again, but better. Let everything out. You’ve got a miracle waiting inside you. Sing as if you can save the world with your voice.”
He nodded, not willing to break the spell by speaking. The music started again. She began to sway a little. Her eyes flicked down to the lead sheets then back up. Her voice came in at the exact instant his did.
I cried in my misery
It was more than I could bear
Ripped apart and bleeding out
Into the darkness I would stare
She reached one hand toward him. With the slightest effort he touched her fingertips. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks. Filling his head, guitar and piano danced and swirled around each other. Little pings off the cymbal bell perfectly complimented the ringing guitar. Synthesizer crept in like an uncertain mist then swelled to wash over everything, carrying him with it. When the synthesizer eased back, lilting piano held him up. His voice grew stronger with the next verse.
And then I saw it from afar
I didn’t know just what it was
I was afraid of how it glowed
I’d never seen the face of love
Something about the way her deep voice backed him up—supported him—made it easy to lose the last of his inhibitions. He knew she’d be careful to keep her voice just below his. This was the way singing was meant to be.
You came straight as an arrow
I never had a chance to hide
I didn’t know which way to turn
But I never even tried to fight
You came out of nowhere
Like a comet burning bright
In all the colors of a rainbow
Coming down on a summernight
[to be continued]
The term “track” is sometimes used here as a synonym for the verb “record.” The term “cans” is used as a synonym for “headset.” Lennie is producer as well as engineer for Sandy’s song, with only Neal assisting him; that’s why I don’t mention anyone else. The term “studio” can be a bit confusing. Used here, it refers to the specific room that the artist stands in to sing or play, not a building. If anything else confuses you, drop me a comment.
______________________
Movement through the control room window caught Sandy‘s eye. Lennie and Neal glanced at each other with the wide-eyed look that said We’ve got magic here. Sandy read Adam’s lips: She could make the devil sing like an angel.
They would’ve recorded that first effort, but the technical aspects were settled now. This take would be for real.
Sophie waited several seconds past the last audible notes before speaking in a very low voice. “Good, honey. Now do it again, but better. Let everything out. You’ve got a miracle waiting inside you. Sing as if you can save the world with your voice.”
He nodded, not willing to break the spell by speaking. The music started again. She began to sway a little. Her eyes flicked down to the lead sheets then back up. Her voice came in at the exact instant his did.
I cried in my misery
It was more than I could bear
Ripped apart and bleeding out
Into the darkness I would stare
She reached one hand toward him. With the slightest effort he touched her fingertips. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks. Filling his head, guitar and piano danced and swirled around each other. Little pings off the cymbal bell perfectly complimented the ringing guitar. Synthesizer crept in like an uncertain mist then swelled to wash over everything, carrying him with it. When the synthesizer eased back, lilting piano held him up. His voice grew stronger with the next verse.
And then I saw it from afar
I didn’t know just what it was
I was afraid of how it glowed
I’d never seen the face of love
Something about the way her deep voice backed him up—supported him—made it easy to lose the last of his inhibitions. He knew she’d be careful to keep her voice just below his. This was the way singing was meant to be.
You came straight as an arrow
I never had a chance to hide
I didn’t know which way to turn
But I never even tried to fight
You came out of nowhere
Like a comet burning bright
In all the colors of a rainbow
Coming down on a summernight
[to be continued]
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Scene, Sandy and Sophie recording, pt 3
This scene takes places somewhere in the middle of Street Glass, so the year would be '89 or '90. As currently written, this scene is not intended to be included in the novel. Its purpose is to practice writing, explore the earliest beginnings of Sandy and Sophie’s relationship, explore a bit of her relationship with Adam, and have some fun that wouldn’t be appropriate for the novel. As everything is in this novel, the scene is in close third POV.
The term “track” is sometimes used here as a synonym for the verb “record.” The term “cans” is used as a synonym for “headset.” Lennie is producer as well as engineer for Sandy’s song, with only Neal assisting him; that’s why I don’t mention anyone else. The term “studio” can be a bit confusing. Used here, it refers to the specific room that the artist stands in to sing or play, not a building. If anything else confuses you, drop me a comment.
______________________
Sandy held the studio door open for Sophie. “I don’t need the lead sheets if you want to keep them with you.”
“Good. And if at any time you want to do something different, you just interrupt me.”
Neal followed close behind with another mic and headset. “This is the type of mic you prefer, yeah?”
She glanced at it then took a second look. “Yes, hon. That’s thoughtful of you.” She smiled before moving away.
He shot a grin at her though she didn’t see.
Sandy gestured for him to set the equipment up. It’s not thoughtful, Adam would’ve told him.
She told Sandy to stand at his mic then seemed to be gauging distance to some nearby spot. “Reach your hand out and touch my fingertips.” With her warm fingers just touching his, she backed up until their arms were completely outstretched. “This is where my mic has to go.”
“That seems pretty close,” Neal said.
“Don’t question the judgment of a seasoned artist,” Sandy said.
Neal scowled at him.
Sophie looked around the studio. “You haven’t got any ambiance here. That might have something to do with the problem. I always have candlelight and a bunch of beautiful things around the room, but we can at least cut the lighting here.”
“You have lit candles in the studio?” Sandy asked, picking up his headset.
“Sure. Full candelabras, four feet tall, each holding a dozen tapers. Usually I have incense too. Me and the girls dress up—well never mind. I’m sorry, you’re Neal? I need the lights lowered by half.”
“Yes ma’am. By half? Isn’t—never mind.”
He continued setting up her mic as she read over the lead sheets. At times she sang in a whisper. She took the headset from Neal without raising her gaze. He shifted his weight and looked over the new setup.
“Done?” Sandy said. “Or are you gonna do this too?”
Neal shrugged and went out. Sophie tried the lyrics as she read, her voice barely audible. She had the melody, all right. She pressed the button on the mic. “Thanks for dimming the lights. Can I have the music while I read this? Send it to Sandy too. I want him to get into the right headspace. I know you want to get levels on me, so let me hear this first and then I’ll run through it with Sandy.” She listened and read, continuing to sing to herself.
Sandy listened to the music in one ear so he could also hear Sophie. Maybe the song had been waiting for a woman’s touch. And maybe dimming the lights was a good idea. He’d been awfully nervous when she came into the studio with him, but now he breathed easier.
“Okay,” she said at the end. “Let’s do this. It’s not just for getting levels on my mic, it’s also so we can get a feel for how our voices blend. I’m going to stick to doing harmony. You look right at me while you sing, got it? You reach as far as you can for what you want, and then you reach further. You’ll see what I mean.”
The music started again and Sandy did as she told him. Her eyes held him. She didn’t look down at the words often but didn’t make any mistakes. A subtle electricity built up as the song carried on; even with her mysterious brown eyes fixed on him, the words and emotion flowed out of him easily. During the last half minute, while the chiming Rickenbacker faded into delicate piano, he couldn’t look away from her gaze. A sense of anticipation came over him.
[to be continued]
The term “track” is sometimes used here as a synonym for the verb “record.” The term “cans” is used as a synonym for “headset.” Lennie is producer as well as engineer for Sandy’s song, with only Neal assisting him; that’s why I don’t mention anyone else. The term “studio” can be a bit confusing. Used here, it refers to the specific room that the artist stands in to sing or play, not a building. If anything else confuses you, drop me a comment.
______________________
Sandy held the studio door open for Sophie. “I don’t need the lead sheets if you want to keep them with you.”
“Good. And if at any time you want to do something different, you just interrupt me.”
Neal followed close behind with another mic and headset. “This is the type of mic you prefer, yeah?”
She glanced at it then took a second look. “Yes, hon. That’s thoughtful of you.” She smiled before moving away.
He shot a grin at her though she didn’t see.
Sandy gestured for him to set the equipment up. It’s not thoughtful, Adam would’ve told him.
She told Sandy to stand at his mic then seemed to be gauging distance to some nearby spot. “Reach your hand out and touch my fingertips.” With her warm fingers just touching his, she backed up until their arms were completely outstretched. “This is where my mic has to go.”
“That seems pretty close,” Neal said.
“Don’t question the judgment of a seasoned artist,” Sandy said.
Neal scowled at him.
Sophie looked around the studio. “You haven’t got any ambiance here. That might have something to do with the problem. I always have candlelight and a bunch of beautiful things around the room, but we can at least cut the lighting here.”
“You have lit candles in the studio?” Sandy asked, picking up his headset.
“Sure. Full candelabras, four feet tall, each holding a dozen tapers. Usually I have incense too. Me and the girls dress up—well never mind. I’m sorry, you’re Neal? I need the lights lowered by half.”
“Yes ma’am. By half? Isn’t—never mind.”
He continued setting up her mic as she read over the lead sheets. At times she sang in a whisper. She took the headset from Neal without raising her gaze. He shifted his weight and looked over the new setup.
“Done?” Sandy said. “Or are you gonna do this too?”
Neal shrugged and went out. Sophie tried the lyrics as she read, her voice barely audible. She had the melody, all right. She pressed the button on the mic. “Thanks for dimming the lights. Can I have the music while I read this? Send it to Sandy too. I want him to get into the right headspace. I know you want to get levels on me, so let me hear this first and then I’ll run through it with Sandy.” She listened and read, continuing to sing to herself.
Sandy listened to the music in one ear so he could also hear Sophie. Maybe the song had been waiting for a woman’s touch. And maybe dimming the lights was a good idea. He’d been awfully nervous when she came into the studio with him, but now he breathed easier.
“Okay,” she said at the end. “Let’s do this. It’s not just for getting levels on my mic, it’s also so we can get a feel for how our voices blend. I’m going to stick to doing harmony. You look right at me while you sing, got it? You reach as far as you can for what you want, and then you reach further. You’ll see what I mean.”
The music started again and Sandy did as she told him. Her eyes held him. She didn’t look down at the words often but didn’t make any mistakes. A subtle electricity built up as the song carried on; even with her mysterious brown eyes fixed on him, the words and emotion flowed out of him easily. During the last half minute, while the chiming Rickenbacker faded into delicate piano, he couldn’t look away from her gaze. A sense of anticipation came over him.
[to be continued]
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Scene, Sandy and Sophie recording, pt 2
This scene takes places somewhere in the middle of Street Glass, so the year would be '89 or '90. As currently written, this scene is not intended to be included in the novel. Its purpose is to practice writing, explore the earliest beginnings of Sandy and Sophie’s relationship, explore a bit of her relationship with Adam, and have some fun that wouldn’t be appropriate for the novel. As everything is in this novel, the scene is in close third POV.
Background: Adam and Sophie are members of the rock/pop band Xenith. Sophie has also started the band Obsession to showcase her solo work; she’s active in both bands. She and Adam went through a very public and acrimonious breakup of their romantic relationship a few years prior, though they’ve continued to play in Xenith.
The term “track” is sometimes used here as a synonym for the verb “record.” The term “cans” is used as a synonym for “headset.” Lennie is producer as well as engineer for Sandy’s song, with only Neal assisting him; that’s why I don’t mention anyone else. The term “studio” can be a bit confusing. Used here, it refers to the specific room that the artist stands in to sing or play, not a building. If anything else confuses you, drop me a comment.
_______________________
Sandy leaned against the wall. Maybe he shouldn’t get mixed up in whatever weird thing they had going on, even from the sidelines. Still, she had a reputation for getting what she wanted out of studio sessions. He, on the other hand, had spent a ridiculous amount of time on one track.
Lennie and Neal both leaned toward her with barely concealed desperation on their faces.
Sophie looked a little uncomfortable. “I feel like this is infringing on your work, but would you like some help from Adam or me?”
“Oh, God! I’m not stupid, I’d love some help.”
“Let’s hear what you’ve got so far,” Adam said.
Sandy grinned. “Damn! Thanks, I really appreciate you guys listening to this. Lennie, turn it up just a bit in my cans.”
Lennie and Neal both scrambled to offer Sophie their seats. Adam retreated to the rear of the room. How he managed to work with her years after they broke up was a mystery.
Back in the studio, the piano intro eased into Sandy’s headset. He didn’t need the lead sheets for the lyrics and being able to see Sophie just made him nervous, so he turned away from the window. Technically, he sounded fine, but still couldn’t find the soul the piece needed. If anybody would have ideas on how to fix it, Sophie or Adam would. Sandy wouldn’t turn down an offer of some magic Adam Emerson guitar, either.
He gave it everything he had. Maybe some of it sounded better, but by then, he just didn’t know. When he faced the window again, Adam had joined Sophie at the board. Nobody moved as the final notes played. Sophie’s eyes had become unfocused and her expression was so far away, Sandy half expected her to physically disappear.
She blinked several times. “Hon, I have an idea, if you don’t mind me singing with you.”
“Mind? I’d love to get this thing finished before I die.” Besides, I was hoping you’d say that.
“All right. Give me a few minutes to warm up.”
Everybody in the control room started talking then Lennie went out with Sophie and Adam. Neal was still looking after them when Sandy came into the room. “Forget it dude, that ivory tower is too high for almost everybody.”
“Don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Neal pushed some of the sliders on the board.
“Go ahead, play dumb. I’m getting some hot tea while Sophie’s busy. We might need to track it several times so be sure you record all of it.”
(to be continued)
Background: Adam and Sophie are members of the rock/pop band Xenith. Sophie has also started the band Obsession to showcase her solo work; she’s active in both bands. She and Adam went through a very public and acrimonious breakup of their romantic relationship a few years prior, though they’ve continued to play in Xenith.
The term “track” is sometimes used here as a synonym for the verb “record.” The term “cans” is used as a synonym for “headset.” Lennie is producer as well as engineer for Sandy’s song, with only Neal assisting him; that’s why I don’t mention anyone else. The term “studio” can be a bit confusing. Used here, it refers to the specific room that the artist stands in to sing or play, not a building. If anything else confuses you, drop me a comment.
_______________________
Sandy leaned against the wall. Maybe he shouldn’t get mixed up in whatever weird thing they had going on, even from the sidelines. Still, she had a reputation for getting what she wanted out of studio sessions. He, on the other hand, had spent a ridiculous amount of time on one track.
Lennie and Neal both leaned toward her with barely concealed desperation on their faces.
Sophie looked a little uncomfortable. “I feel like this is infringing on your work, but would you like some help from Adam or me?”
“Oh, God! I’m not stupid, I’d love some help.”
“Let’s hear what you’ve got so far,” Adam said.
Sandy grinned. “Damn! Thanks, I really appreciate you guys listening to this. Lennie, turn it up just a bit in my cans.”
Lennie and Neal both scrambled to offer Sophie their seats. Adam retreated to the rear of the room. How he managed to work with her years after they broke up was a mystery.
Back in the studio, the piano intro eased into Sandy’s headset. He didn’t need the lead sheets for the lyrics and being able to see Sophie just made him nervous, so he turned away from the window. Technically, he sounded fine, but still couldn’t find the soul the piece needed. If anybody would have ideas on how to fix it, Sophie or Adam would. Sandy wouldn’t turn down an offer of some magic Adam Emerson guitar, either.
He gave it everything he had. Maybe some of it sounded better, but by then, he just didn’t know. When he faced the window again, Adam had joined Sophie at the board. Nobody moved as the final notes played. Sophie’s eyes had become unfocused and her expression was so far away, Sandy half expected her to physically disappear.
She blinked several times. “Hon, I have an idea, if you don’t mind me singing with you.”
“Mind? I’d love to get this thing finished before I die.” Besides, I was hoping you’d say that.
“All right. Give me a few minutes to warm up.”
Everybody in the control room started talking then Lennie went out with Sophie and Adam. Neal was still looking after them when Sandy came into the room. “Forget it dude, that ivory tower is too high for almost everybody.”
“Don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Neal pushed some of the sliders on the board.
“Go ahead, play dumb. I’m getting some hot tea while Sophie’s busy. We might need to track it several times so be sure you record all of it.”
(to be continued)
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