Tuesday, March 17, 2009

And the beat goes on

Whether it's the dance of a child twirling around the room with joy and agility, celebrating the letting out of school for that day, or the passionate dance of two lovers as they caress each other while sultry music plays in the background, music inspires us, moves us and for some of us, transports us to another place. I'm one of those people who would dance away hours if I could.

I remember when I was young and the school I attended would hold weekly dances in the gym. I was always the first one there and the last to leave. It didn't matter if I had a dance partner, for the most part anyway, I just danced. Every song created a different mood, a different style of dance, different steps and rhythms. To me, most had some sensuality, no matter how fast or slow the beat was.

It's funny, I can't write and listen to music. It's one or the other, although music can inspire stories and when I write, it can be very much like music to me. There's a certain pace and beat to writing when it flows well.

A fast paced action story leaves you breathless, just like a lively jitterbug might. The sexy, grinding scene between lovers has a more sultry tune that takes you to heights of pleasure where you can close your eyes and soar. Vampires need a dark smoky tune. Chick lit, well, a light fluffy piece that makes you antsy to move. Stories really have their own music and we, the authors, create it. If we're very good, we can make our readers hear it, or better yet, feel it.

Ever read a story and you can't sit still? You find yourself twisting and turning in your chair. Perhaps even getting up and walking for a few minutes to release a tension that's built in you. Was that the music of the story?


Here's a little something to look at, to add music too and a story. Lovers, kept apart by the circumstances of their lives. He works out of town, perhaps racing cars or buying stock for a company that doesn't care about HIM.

She works in a small shop, but dreams about when he's home. When he can take her out and they can dance. His firm hold on her, supporting her against him. His taut, well-muscled body controls hers. He can make her do anything when they dance, and she yearns for more.

Hear the music? It's soft and sultry. A sax groaning in the distance and holds them under its spell. He'll make love to her on that floor. Fully clothed and in public, they'll share moments more intimate than many married couples.

Sigh. Yes, music means a lot to me.
What about you?

11 comments:

  1. Hey Jude!

    I was thinking about what you said about music. It is evocative, and for some reason that seems to be oine of the music ancient roles in music. It brings out something in you. I don't listen to music when I write, because I'm trying to get in my head. But I listen to intense, strong music before I write because I'm trying to conjure the goddess. The one where the stories come from.

    Garce

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  2. I'm one of those people who listen to the lyrics before the music that accompanies them, but the more I think of it, the more I see what you mean about each story having it's own rythm, it's own heart beat.

    I loved the story you wove for the picture. The theme that ran in my head while you told their story was The last night of the world :)

    Kim Dare.

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  3. Hmm, I like music and do listen to it when I write. (Usually country, LOL)

    But the story weaving and all that jazz is beyond me.

    You go, girl!

    *G*

    Hugs,

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  4. I can only listen to certain music when I work or I get distracted. When I really want to buckle down and focus on what I'm writing, I put on a Pink Floyd CD. Strange, but it works!

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  5. Ah dancing. I have a love / hate feeling about it . Its one of those Jekyll and Hyde things that can drive me crazy, in both the good and bad ways.

    First the love; There’s nothing like a good old bop with my wife. She’s a dancer and always wants to get me up (on the floor I might add!) Conversations with her tend to go along the “Come on, gimme a dance” lines repeated incessantly until I finally weaken and do so. I tend to stagger round the floor with her, not even loosely in time, and not really enjoying myself, but sort of duty bound, you know?. I bet a lot of men will feel this too.

    Then I have a few drinks. I don’t need to be drunk, but maybe a little merry. The conversation flows along with the wine and then it happens. The trigger song comes on. You know the sort of thing, in my case it’s Motown type songs, maybe early Michael Jackson or my all time favourite “Love Train” by the Ojays. In an instant I’ve gone. I drag my wife (or any other handy woman) on to the floor and I’m bopping like some kind of demented throwback to the sixties. Arms and legs go in every direction and the area round me clears like magic as others watch an old fart make a fool of himself. My wife, bless her, changes her tune like magic and instead of saying “C’mon and give me a dance”, starts on the “Sit down you old fool – people are staring”, and I couldn’t care less.

    What’s the old saying? – “Dance like nobody’s watching”. Well, I do.

    Now the hate; When I was much younger I would be about 17, so it’s a long time ago now, mini skirts were just making their first appearance. I remember being at the Locarno Ballroom watching a lovely girl in a short skirt dancing. She twisted and turned and her skirt lifted as she did showing lots of leg. Ok, so I admit it. I fell in love – with her legs at least, and when she came over to me and said “Are you Dancing?” I could hardly believe my luck – I mean how could I say no? I stood and said “Yes, oh yes, YES” but she never fell into my arms. Instead she said “Oh good, you won’t be needing the seat then!

    Dancing – I could write a book…

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  6. Garce,

    I've got a folder with several songs stashed inside. Songs that speak to me and crave a story. I listen to them every so often and when I can, I write that story. Sometimes listening to the songs is just too powerful. I love them, but couldn't write while listening to them if you paid me.

    Hmm, well maybe if you paid me a lot. LOL

    Thanks so much for stopping by.

    Hugs

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  7. Kim, hugs. Thanks lady. I know there are times when I write that I'll just stop for a few minutes and sit with my eyes closed. It's like the music of that story is catching up or I am. Not sure which. I can't listen and write. I do listen before and after.

    Thanks for commenting.

    Hugs

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  8. Jamie, country! Oh my... is that where if you play the song backwards, the guy gets his house, wife and his horse back?

    Ducking!

    Thanks so much for dropping by. I really appreciate your input... but you knew that.

    Hugs

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  9. LuAnn!

    Pink Flloyd.. How on Earth do you write when that's playing? I'm not sure if I'm in awe or simply flabbergasted. LOL

    It's nice that we're all different. The world would be such a dull place if we weren't.

    Thanks so much for dropping in and leaving a comment.

    Hugs

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  10. Verb---Mog, you always know how to get me laughing. I can picture you bopping around the dance floor and your lovely wife standing there with steam coming out of her ears while trying to get you to STOP IT! LOL

    Uh, and the incident when you were young. Well, what can I say, boys are so damn gullible. Hehehehe!

    Thanks so much for the chuckle.

    Hugs

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  11. Fleetwood Mac runs a close second!

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