Over on Jen's blog http://www.spiralskies.com/ she pinched from A. Writer the for the soundtrack of your life meme. I approached this with hesitation as my ipod holds all the family's music - 2 teen boys, 1 eight year old girl and of course dh (here read Shania Twain). I wouldn't know if I would even know the music that could be thrown up..........something by Linkin Park or White Stripes. We play a game in the car on long drives........throw the ipod on shuffle and everyone getss three rejects and three defends............it makes for an interesting journey. How do you like your Disney? With Emimen? With Russian Monks?
However the process hit a cord with me as two writers I know seriously work with music when they are writing - Julia Williamsand Elizabeth Chadwick.
So without further ado..........
If Your Life Were a Movie…What Would the Soundtrack Be??
So, here’s how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that’s playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool…because you’re not!
7. Stick the soundtrack on your mp3 player and listen away during the day.
Here goes:
Opening Credits: I'm Gonna Laugh You Right Out of My Life - Natalie Cole
Waking Up: You're Beautiful – James Blunt (this made me laugh)
First Day at School: di Capua: i'Turin Vurrua Vara- Andrea Bocelli (Haven't a clue but it sounds beautiful)
Falling in Love: Sisters are Doing for Themselves - Eurythmics & Aretha Franklin (????)
Fight Song: Macarena - Los del Rio (now this is getting really bizarre)
Breaking Up: Missionary Man - Eurythmics (itunes was clearly having an Eurythmics fit)
Prom/Dance/Ball: De Curtio - No Ti Scorda Di Me - Three Tenors (?)
Life’s OK: Massenet - Three Tenors (must say it doesn't shuffle very well!)
Mental Breakdown: When Tomorrow Comes - Eurythmics again
Flashback: Buck's Nouvelle Jole blond - Buckwheat Zydeco (from sound track to the Big Easy in case you were wondering!)
Getting Back Together: Your Love is King - Will Young
Birth of Child: My Heart Will Go On - Celine Dion
Wedding: O Come All Ye Faithful - Josh Grosban (now this is getting weird)
Final Battle: White Christmas - Frank Sinatra (clearly this film has its high points at Christmas!)
Funeral Song: CHeeseburger in Paradise - Jimmy Buffet (no comment)
End Credits: Seven Year - Norah Jones
Showing posts with label Jen at Spiral Skies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jen at Spiral Skies. Show all posts
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Novel Racer - Jen at Spiral Skies
I think Novel Racer Jen, http://www.spiralskies.com/, opens her profile the way we all feel when asked to write about ourselves!
"Oh dear… what to write?
Oddly enough, I never doubted that I’d be a writer. From a young age, ‘I love to write’ was a standard response when asked about my pastimes. All well and good but, well, I never actually did any writing. I bought heaps of books about writing and sometimes even read them but that was as far as it went. Hopeless.
Why didn’t I write? Now there’s a question. I suppose I thought that I could write and, if I did, I’d be good at it. But there again, if I actually wrote something, I might turn out to be rubbish. As someone surprisingly lacking in confidence, I took the easy way out. I didn’t write a word. Ever.
During a funny turn one morning, however, I signed up for a short poetry-writing course with the OU. I did ok. I then did their fiction-writing shortie: if I got a decent mark, I would take the plunge and sign up for the scary ‘big one’ in Creative Writing. If I did well in that, I would write the novel I had started as an assignment. I got a distinction. Yay! Maybe I wasn’t rubbish after all.
So, biting my nails and wondering how on earth I was going to manage this novel-writing lark, I happened upon the Novel Racers. And I’m doing it: I’m really writing. ‘Look at me, I’m writing a novel’, I think as I tap away in the dark at the crack of dawn.
I feel proud to be part of the Novel Race – not just the published among us (which are increasing rapidly, how fab!) but the others like me, pottering along and trying to type with our fingers crossed. The Novel Racers support is great; I doubt I’d have got this far without it.
So, while others have finished their first drafts or submitted to publishers, I’m bumbling along and have reached the 25% mark. I shall continue my daily torture in Retail Hell, continue my neglect of the housework and keep at it. Tap tap tap. A hundred words here, a hundred words there. Watch this space!"
First to say that strangely the revision went well and was actually fun yesterday. I do have that feeling that it is totally crap but then again that is what all writers seem to think all the time. However this truly could be so I will look on the bright side - I went from nought to 12% in the day!
Now as promised a little history of August Rock. The idea began when we were in our boat (a 15 ft dory) just in Falmouth Bay just out of the Helford River. I was looking at the charts and asked my husband what was this thing August Rock? He pointed to a buoy and I said yes so what? He replied that August Rock could only be seen during the very low tides in August. I thought cool sounds like a tittle for a book. August Rock was born.
That was at the end of August and the combination of many things churned about in my head until driving in the rain on the way back to London for the start of school that the whole story began in my head. American Judith Chambers flees her own wedding and escapes to the wilds of Cornwall to help Tristan Trevenen to catalogue the papers of his recently deceased father Petroc Trevenen, garden historian of note. He needs this done so that he can complete probate and sell this glorious historic estate on the Helford River.
I wrote 15,000 words before Christmas. Researched historic Cornish Gardens (none of which ever made it into the book!) and wrote the remaining 85,000 from January to the end of March. Now here comes the part where I cringe. I was at the March meeting of Romantic Novelist Association where a panel had spoken about the state of the current market. The panel consisted of and agent from Darley Anderson, a best selling novelist and an editor from Orion. When the talk had finished everyone swamp the agent from Darley but the lovely editor from Orion was left standing on her own. Now those of you that know me, I am too well brought up to leave someone alone so I went to chat - not to sell. However she pulled out of me what I was writing and she liked the sound of it. Asked if I had an agent...no. Well, send a few chapters anyway....I said I would. She said don't rush but to finish it etc.
Needless to say I went home and worked like a demon. Polished as I knew how to then (utter crap) and had a few friends check the first three chapters (only 19 pages) for typos and so on. Then I held my breath and sent it. A few months later her reply came back.....and it was very polite no thanks and hopes that I found and agent soon. Exact words .... "It's an atmospheric read, and the character of Judith is strong but at present we have such a full schedule we really have to pick and choose."
Now you are wondering why this is cringe making.....well I'll tell you about the agent tomorrow and all will become clear but let' just say that my naivety knew no bounds.
"Oh dear… what to write?
Oddly enough, I never doubted that I’d be a writer. From a young age, ‘I love to write’ was a standard response when asked about my pastimes. All well and good but, well, I never actually did any writing. I bought heaps of books about writing and sometimes even read them but that was as far as it went. Hopeless.
Why didn’t I write? Now there’s a question. I suppose I thought that I could write and, if I did, I’d be good at it. But there again, if I actually wrote something, I might turn out to be rubbish. As someone surprisingly lacking in confidence, I took the easy way out. I didn’t write a word. Ever.
During a funny turn one morning, however, I signed up for a short poetry-writing course with the OU. I did ok. I then did their fiction-writing shortie: if I got a decent mark, I would take the plunge and sign up for the scary ‘big one’ in Creative Writing. If I did well in that, I would write the novel I had started as an assignment. I got a distinction. Yay! Maybe I wasn’t rubbish after all.
So, biting my nails and wondering how on earth I was going to manage this novel-writing lark, I happened upon the Novel Racers. And I’m doing it: I’m really writing. ‘Look at me, I’m writing a novel’, I think as I tap away in the dark at the crack of dawn.
I feel proud to be part of the Novel Race – not just the published among us (which are increasing rapidly, how fab!) but the others like me, pottering along and trying to type with our fingers crossed. The Novel Racers support is great; I doubt I’d have got this far without it.
So, while others have finished their first drafts or submitted to publishers, I’m bumbling along and have reached the 25% mark. I shall continue my daily torture in Retail Hell, continue my neglect of the housework and keep at it. Tap tap tap. A hundred words here, a hundred words there. Watch this space!"
First to say that strangely the revision went well and was actually fun yesterday. I do have that feeling that it is totally crap but then again that is what all writers seem to think all the time. However this truly could be so I will look on the bright side - I went from nought to 12% in the day!
Now as promised a little history of August Rock. The idea began when we were in our boat (a 15 ft dory) just in Falmouth Bay just out of the Helford River. I was looking at the charts and asked my husband what was this thing August Rock? He pointed to a buoy and I said yes so what? He replied that August Rock could only be seen during the very low tides in August. I thought cool sounds like a tittle for a book. August Rock was born.
That was at the end of August and the combination of many things churned about in my head until driving in the rain on the way back to London for the start of school that the whole story began in my head. American Judith Chambers flees her own wedding and escapes to the wilds of Cornwall to help Tristan Trevenen to catalogue the papers of his recently deceased father Petroc Trevenen, garden historian of note. He needs this done so that he can complete probate and sell this glorious historic estate on the Helford River.
I wrote 15,000 words before Christmas. Researched historic Cornish Gardens (none of which ever made it into the book!) and wrote the remaining 85,000 from January to the end of March. Now here comes the part where I cringe. I was at the March meeting of Romantic Novelist Association where a panel had spoken about the state of the current market. The panel consisted of and agent from Darley Anderson, a best selling novelist and an editor from Orion. When the talk had finished everyone swamp the agent from Darley but the lovely editor from Orion was left standing on her own. Now those of you that know me, I am too well brought up to leave someone alone so I went to chat - not to sell. However she pulled out of me what I was writing and she liked the sound of it. Asked if I had an agent...no. Well, send a few chapters anyway....I said I would. She said don't rush but to finish it etc.
Needless to say I went home and worked like a demon. Polished as I knew how to then (utter crap) and had a few friends check the first three chapters (only 19 pages) for typos and so on. Then I held my breath and sent it. A few months later her reply came back.....and it was very polite no thanks and hopes that I found and agent soon. Exact words .... "It's an atmospheric read, and the character of Judith is strong but at present we have such a full schedule we really have to pick and choose."
Now you are wondering why this is cringe making.....well I'll tell you about the agent tomorrow and all will become clear but let' just say that my naivety knew no bounds.
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