Novelists don't necessarily make the best lyricists

When I was ready to post Remember Newvember on Authonomy I realized the book was riddled with copyright issues. “Borrowing” someone else’s work for inspiration is one thing, but blatantly stealing it is something else altogether. I spent several days researching the ins and outs of copyright, trying to figure out a way to maintain the integrity of the story while holding on tight to all those song lyrics. Everything pointed to the same thing; I needed to obtain permission from whoever held the copyrights.

Have you ever tried to track down copyrights to a song? The lyrics rights are usually held by one person, the guitar line by another and the drums by yet another. Every musician in any given band owns a piece of each song he worked on. I only wanted the lyrics, but even then it got tricky because sometimes the artist himself didn’t actually own the rights to his own work. The more I researched, the more I discovered I just didn’t have the education, the resources or the contacts to be able to legally use someone else’s work.

Although I knew the likelihood of an artist tracking me down to sue me for promoting their work was pretty slim, I decided I wasn’t about to take the chance of having to deal with an expensive law suit. The simplest solution was to try my own hand at writing lyrics. I learned something very important. I am not a lyricist. In fact, I can barely throw together a four line stanza and call it poetry.

For example:

Jennifer Gimme, gimme, gimme Mine, mine mine, The world should kneel before my feet If you aren’t me you must be swine

VS

Social Distortion – “I Want What I Want” Because I want what I want And I want it now You mean this great big world Doesn't revolve around me?

Or:

Jennifer Sex for pleasure, Sex for fun, Sex lost the war and VD won.

VS

Circle Jerks – “15 Minutes” 15 minutes of fun, pleasure Now you're gonna go insane And a trip, trip Down to the free clinic

I would like to think that I improved with practice:

 Jennifer

"Fragments of my life,

Scattered all around.

Shards of broken glass

Are all that can be found.

You can’t help repair it,

It lays shattered on the ground."

Images are reflected,

Disjointed in the glass.

Reflective of my broken life,

Haunted by my past.

You can’t fix this mirror,

Or this soul of shattered glass.

 VS

Billy Talent – “Rusted From the Rain”

"I stumble through the wreckage
Rusted from the rain
There's nothing left to salvage
No one left to blame
Among the broken mirrors
I don't look the same
I'm rusted from the rain

Go on crush me like a flower, rusted from the rain
Come on, strip me of my power, beat me with your chains
And if I'm the king of cowards, you're the queen of pain
I'm rusted from the rain, I'm rusted from the rain"

The question that remains is whether or not I achieved the desired effect of bringing the emotional feel of the music into the story. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to convince an unsuspecting musician to set my “lyrics” to music. Until then, you’ll just have to make up the tune all on your own.

Music, Budgies & Emotions

Music plays a vital role throughout Remember Newvember. I couldn’t write without having the radio on, or a playlist piping out through the inadequate speakers of my laptop. Much to my surprise, the music of choice did not come through the essence of the main character; rather it was channelled through the bird she reluctantly adopts. The bird has a penchant for spouting out hardcore punk music lyrics at the most inopportune moments. 



Budgie-Boo - the bird that led me to music

The inspiration for the bird came from a girlfriend who found her own budgie on her front lawn. The evolution of music came from my very distant childhood. Somewhere, locked deep inside, was the memory of listening to very raunchy, inappropriate music I could only savour when my parents weren’t home (sorry mom & dad). Band names such as “Day Glo Abortions”, “Circle Jerks”, “7 Seconds”, “My Dog Popper” and “Mr. Nobody” swept into my mind the moment the bird made his own dramatic appearance. Some of these bands are known throughout North America and Europe and are still playing while others I only remember from various “all ages’ shows” or performances in small bars.

The music brought me back to a time in my life when I was more receptive to new experiences; obviously this was before marriage and children which seems to have a grounding effect on most people.  The remembered feelings the music evoked put me in the right frame of mind to continuously search out new adventures for Willow to try in her daily life.

Without an auditory stimulant, I tend to be easily distracted. Music filters into my mind, sifts through my imagination and helps to pull out the bits that need to be released into the story. It induces feelings that lie dormant, waiting for liberation through words and world-building.

Writing without music is tantamount to swimming without goggles. Goggles aren’t essential to the skill of swimming, they don’t make you go faster or improve your technique. In fact, they are rather goofy-looking, however they do offer a sense of comfort and gives the swimmer the ability to see just a bit more clearly. Music does the same for writers. It does not improve technique or imagination, but it does allow the writer to dig deep to find suppressed emotions that might not otherwise make it into the page. Music makes my vision much more perspicuous; it's a powerful tool.

Lucky for me, I married a musician – so it’s never in short supply.