Did music write the novel? What soundtrack was there when you wrote?

In the last post were two links to music that inspired the 9-yr debut novel

How To Kill Your Dad: 

Basinski – disintegration loop1

Basinski – Cascade

I don’t think I’ve written much without music playing. youtube has given me more gifts than I can count; I crave new music, unearthing at least one or two pieces a week by composers or songwriters I’ve never heard of, and they really have made all the difference. The characters absorb the energy of the music, weave through traffic to violin picks, take drugs to acid house, torture themselves or others coolly to minimalism’s coolness, or the rain pours down to eno’s electronic heartbeats. It’s a constant co-writer of books, blogs, emails and journals.

What about you? Who are the composers, the singers, the song-writers, the players, that bring you to your optimal feeling and imagining moments as your pen bridges the gap between one real mind and a million invented unreal realities? Come on, you don’t do it on your own do you?

What about reading? Do you take books with silence or sound?

Could one piece of music move someone the same way? At primary school, they do Big Writes, when children together in one class write individual stories while listening to the same piece of music. Sometimes music moves us the same, but the words we respond with are rarely the same.

Here are 3 more pieces I used and used and used. Some of the tempo and flavour of h8r, Joy and Chib all come from two underworld albums: second toughest in the infants

I owned this on cassette when i was in a band going crazy around Hamburg. i remember talking to a loaf of bread while listening to this on a walkman. Years later, it’s energy and poise have infected each main character’s character.

Album number 2 : barking

Later edits, and the very strange, terse love or feeling between two of the characters – you’ll guess which ones as you read – were inspired by the happiness and bubbling just out of control that I feel when listening to this album. Will it do the same for your writing?

Piece 3: teenage scum by the goldsharks

 

This track was on when Chib was going mental about the Kilmarnock Knife. (Please, you have to read the book to understand it.) The sheer mentalness of it all is in this track. The band went through three names, goldsharks, videofan, carbon plan and agent x.

i see bars big fat judges born to be delinquent it seems

drugs and stealing cars and girls what a way to wake up to the world

Next post, I’ll share the painful aching tracks that underpin the horror and tragedy of a couple of key tragic, heart-breaking moments in How To Kill Your Dad

Please tweet @leegoldground and share what you got from this post, or to share your own influences.

 

 

 

all your reading has been training you for this

The book you drown in, the book you are wrapped in right now. How you lose track of the world, lose track of all the other books, lose track of tomorrow, lose track of yourself, and yet find yourself on every page. In the astonishing book,  A Beautiful Question (the book I am totally submerged in right now, when before that I was totally hypnotised by Patrick Ness’  Chaos Walking trilogy), Frank Wilczek asks:  is God an artist? Was the starting principle an artist who wanted to make something beautiful? The appearance of number everywhere supports him.

Is there another theory? That the starting principle of the universe was a writer? Think not only of all the words in the world, but all the worlds in the words.

Anywhere. Anytime. Anything. With words.

If not, then perhaps it started when someone opened a pretty big, new book, and became immersed. Maybe the book is still being read. Maybe we are the book, we are the story. The universe, God, the big bang, whatever, is a reader.

How else do we explain the effect of not just one book, but every book, on our lives or just our moments, our feelings and imagination, our involvement with the world, our living?

Think about it. We don’t just get tricked once, we get tricked every time, every book. Every book is where we are, when where we were was the last book. Utterly inexplicable. Although there’s probably a book about it.

All your reading has been training you for this, the book you’re reading now, the words you’re reading now.

For your next profound, hypnotising, sick-grinning, value-shredding hundred mile-an-hour experience, may I at least offer you this 2016 ultra-tragedy as your next book?

How To Kill Your Dad – lee goldground

this is not a blog part 2

This is not a blog.

I’m trying to figure out the way, the straightest path, to help Maxi h8r Muir drag his wounded, grinning ultra-tragedy through your door-step and into your life.

So this is not a blog.

This is a partly  violent, partly melting, sobbing knock on your wood-work. The anti-hero of the 21st century needs you to make sense of a sick quest to achieve the worst number one goal in the world. A broken Scottish village life has pushed him out to the edges of the universe. Why?

So no blog. This is a story trying to find a way to tell itself –

in the UK: ‘How To Kill Your Dad’ on kindle

and in America and the world: ‘How To Kill Your Dad’ on kindle