Note for Note: Music and Lit
I Will, In Point of Fact, Play That Funky Music.
I’ve spoken before on how the broad principles of music can help one become a better writer, but just like plucking at the strings without rhythm or intonation, writing purely by formula is just as bound to disappoint.
To that end I’d like to discuss what I consider three critical points of “musical theory lite” that can greatly improve your writing.
For your consideration:
Structure.
A starting point if ever there was one. The universal constant of any composition, there is a beginning, middle, and end. Attempting to deviate from this basic truth and your “tune” becomes aimless, wandering and, most importantly, unfulfilling.
Music, like stories, require direction. Without it, one is left making noise for one’s own sake which, while fine for mindless personal consumption is not what you want to break out when asked to play on the mainstage of literary Woodstock.
Melody.
The spine upon which the aforementioned structure rests. This is the throughline which carries your audience from one part of your composition to the next.
Think of melody as your main narrative in relation to side stories/extraneous plot threads. Just like your main storyline, the melody is what you can come back to in order to keep to the established rhythm while keeping momentum to swing into your next flashy bit.
Notes at the end of a verse will resolve back into the start of the melody just as notes at the end of the melody will resolve into the start of the next verse. Use this idea to feather in your chapters and side stories to help integrate them seamlessly into your core narrative.
A song without melody is spineless. A story without a spine is a collection of ramblings.
Melodic Variation.
Ah, but what is melody but an invitation to innovate?
As I said at the very beginning music cannot exist as a paint by numbers formula and neither can one’s own writing.
Melodic variation, while an intimidating phrase, is (simply put) putting a spin on things. Think of it as keeping the same beat with the same rhythm while throwing in a slight variance to replace part of your “standard” melody to keep things feeling fresh.
Playing the same notes over and over again becomes repetiteve and stale so why not throw in a bluesy note or two to mix things up? The same principle applies to your writing.
Stories need structure, yes, and familiarity (and rhythm), but they also need to be fun. And that’s what this one is about, dear reader.: fun.
Throw out some wild chapter openings. Toss in that dramatic ending that leaves your readers clamoring for more. By the time you reach this third point you’ve already established your building blocks, now it’s time to see what you can make with them.
So there you have it: three brief takeaways on how musical theory can improve your own artistic endeavors. Was I right? Was I wrong? Perhaps, but either way it’ll give you something to consider the next time you open Spotify or iTunes!