Score Your Characters: Use Music to Develop Arcs

Back in November while drafting Askers Well during NaNoWriMo, I sat at the writer’s desk with Pandora set to the Bon Iver station, searching for the best way to write a new scene with my main character Brenn Bailey.

But the words weren’t coming the way I had hoped or planned.

I sat back and let the music play on–a thumbs up here, a thumbs down there. Writing to music was nothing new. I had done it before with some success, so why not now?

The answer came with the next song Lovely by Sara Haze. This sounds like Brenn.

I facepalmed. Of course! The problem was trying to write while listening to music that would motivate me, the author. I should have been writing to music that would motivate my characters.

Creating Brenn’s Playlist
I immediately switched to the Michelle Branch station and found gold–A Fine Frenzy, Skylar Grey, Evanescence, T-Swift. Brenn’s voice was coming through loud and clear through the artists that inspired her.

I found myself going back to certain songs as they fit better with specific experiences Brenn was facing. As the playlist began to take on an order and a rhythm, so did Brenn’s character arc. There was a song for every emotion and situation–the soundtrack to Brenn’s life.

What About Other Characters?
While Askers Well is all about Brenn’s journey, I began to wonder about the main male character, Rey Mazzo, and what artists would be on his playlist–Maroon 5, Linkin Park, The Fray, Imagine Dragons.

As with Brenn, Rey’s voice was rising from the lyrics and sound of the music. Wonderful moments were written and the novel progressed, but another step was needed to create powerful prose: melding the two playlists together.

Composing Scenes That Sing
I’m still working on finalizing playlists for Brenn and Rey, but here is an example of how overlaying a song from both lists created voice and built tension in a scene.

<Brenn is back home after three years of behavior rehab and meets up with Rey, her best friend since childhood, for the first time since being released. Brenn is trying to start fresh and put the past behind her; Rey wants everything to go back to the way it was before.>

Brenn’s song: Gravity by Sara Barellies

Rey’s song: Here Without You by 3 Doors Down

***

“So they really let you out?” the familiar, confident voice asked. “I figured it would take much longer than this for you to finish rehab.”

Brenn turned to face Rey for the first time since her arrest. “Seriously?!” she shouted. “You haven’t seen your best friend in three years and that’s the first thing you say to me! –‘They really let you out?’” Brenn advanced on Rey as she threw his words back at him.

“Easy, easy,” Rey said, putting both palms up. “I just meant…I mean, you did sort of cause all kinds of trouble in that little gang of yours,” Rey said. “And don’t hit me with that ‘best friend’ stuff. Best friends don’t leave each other for another group. You never would have gotten into trouble if you had stayed with me.” Rey glared down at Brenn’s soft, but tired, face. “Speaking of which, where are your lady friends? Still rehabbing?”

Brenn locked his stare and clenched her teeth for several seconds before turning away—tears welling in her eyes. This was not the welcome home exchange she had expected. Why was he being so mean? Rey had always been blunt with his statements, but he had never been this direct with her before. Had he changed that much in her time away?

Since her return home, stares and whispers between members of her own family were commonplace. But those harsh words and judgments coming from Rey hurt worse than she ever could have imagined. Brenn twisted the end of her hair between her fingers.

“If you’re just going to insult me, please leave,” Brenn said softly as she faced the Monsoon Seabird for strength. She didn’t know why, but something about the decaying wooden shipwreck had always brought her a sense of peace and strength—grounding her thoughts and emotions like an old friend with a warm smile.

“How long have you been here staring at me anyway?” she asked, walking over to take a seat on a section of the broken mast pole.

“Come on, Brenny,” Rey said with a laugh, “I beat you here ages ago. Don’t pretend like I don’t know the exact route you take to get to the Seabird—this is me we’re talking about.”

She knew Rey meant this to be testament to their friendship and his reassuring, protective nature. But the shades of arrogance in his voice always bothered Brenn and kept her from ever seriously pursuing more out of their relationship than friendship.

Rey walked over to the old shipwreck, jumped up on the main deck and leaned his forearms on the ornately carved steering wheel. This was the first time Brenn began to appreciate how much Rey had changed in three years. His boyish, flushed face had given way to a more rugged—but still carefree—countenance and his close-cropped sandy blonde hair had grown so long that now it curled playfully near his ears.

“What did they do to you there?” Rey asked, looking at Brenn’s frail frame and a mysterious black mark on her right wrist.

“Rey, it’s only been two weeks. Please don’t make me travel back to that place already,” Brenn pleaded. But her mind had already retreated back in time and her thoughts were flooded with flashes of the Brodsky Behavioral Enhancement Center—the doctors’ faces, her sterile room with angry fluorescent lights, and the other girls at the BBEC—the ‘Misguided.’

Brenn gave her head a quick twitch. She caught Rey staring, as if inspecting her for signs of instability, before he gave the old steering wheel a lazy spin and jumped down to the sandy bottom of the lakebed.

“Well, it’s been boring here without you around, at least for me. But I understand. You need some time to recover and all of that, so when you feel better, stop by and see me.” Before he turned to leave, Rey smiled and said, “I really am glad you’re home.”

Brenn sat silently among the debris of the Monsoon Seabird as Rey disappeared over the dune. She knew her journey to regain acceptance at home had just begun.

***

Once you’ve built a playlist for your main characters, consider how these songs work with the sound of your story. Writer Sam Eaton has great advice on how you can build a playlist for your entire novel.

What songs or artists are on your MC’s playlist? How do you use music to craft a story?

Thanks for spending another wonderful day here at Blunderstone Rookery–the doors to imagination are always open.

Cheers and happy writing!

A Look Back: Johnny Tremain

 

 

Feeling nostalgic today, so I ventured up to the library and found, for me, the book that started it all. Join me as we take a look back at Johnny Tremain.

The History
As you can tell by the condition of the cover, Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes has been with me for many years–like a toddler’s ragged security blanket. I was a pudgy, nerdy 5th grader when I first discovered Johnny. My teacher, Mrs. Reynolds, appreciated my love of history so much that she recommended the book. Reading, at that point, was enjoyable but not something I approached with excitement. To top it off, this book was 256 pages! I’d never be able to finish a story that long.

I stared at the cover and there was Johnny–standing brave and tall in his colonial attire with a smoking musket in his hands and a British ship looming in the distance.

Something about this book was different.

I flipped to page one and read:

“On rocky islands gulls woke. Time to be about their business. Silently they floated in on the town, but when their icy eyes sighted the first dead fish, first bits of garbage about the ships and wharves, they began to scream and quarrel.

The cocks in Boston back yards had long before cried the coming of day. Now the hens were also awake, scratching, clucking, laying eggs. Cats in malt houses, granaries, ship holds, mansions and hovels caught a last mouse, settled down to wash their fur and sleep. Cats did not work by day.

In stables horses shook their halters and whinnied. In barns cows lowed to be milked.

Boston slowly opened its eyes, stretched, and woke.”

Looking back, I now understand what was different about this book–like the citizens of Boston, my imagination, for the first time, stretched and woke.

The Hero–Johnny Tremain
I struggled with whether I should call Johnny a hero. Sure, he’s the main character, but a hero? He’s what many critics would label a passive hero on a good day. He’s surrounded by the likes of Paul Reverie, John and Sam Adams, Dr. Joseph Warren, James Otis, and other members of the Sons of Liberty–not to mention fictional characters like his best friend Rab Silsbee.

The personal stakes aren’t high for Johnny. After crippling his right hand while working as a silversmith apprentice, he could easily have become a clockmaker’s apprentice and lived his life watching the birth of America from the sidelines. Yet that life is not what would have made him happy–so he uses a new opportunity working at Rab’s uncle’s newspaper, the Observer, to start over and grow as one of the Sons of Liberty.

On several occasions, Rab refers to Johnny as a “bold fellow.” Bold–a crippled silversmith turned newspaper messenger boy? Well, if you think about it, yes. We root for Johnny and become invested in his journey because of his bold choices and decisions, not because of daring or heroic actions. He chooses not to let his deformed hand dictate his future; he decides that aiding the cause of the Sons of Liberty is best instead of becoming a Loyalist. In many ways, he is the spirit of Revolutionary Boston personified–unwilling to settle for what is expected, with a belief that certain rights are worth fighting for.

The American Revolution did not hinge on the actions of a 14-year-old boy. More notable characters threaten to outshine Johnny at any moment. So why do I, and many others, connect with such a passive main character? A poor man’s hero? The real answer comes at the end.

The Message–A Man Can Stand Up

No spoiler alert needed, as I won’t give away the details of the ending–merely summarize the message. Johnny learns throughout his journey that “A Man Can Stand Up.” In the final chapter, Johnny watches what’s left of a company of soldiers marching back from Charleston. Esther Forbes describes the scene brilliantly:

“Some were bloodstained. No uniforms. A curious arsenal of weapons. The long horizontal light of the sinking sun struck into their faces and made them seem much alike. Thin-faced in the manner of Yankee men. High check-boned. Unalterably determined. The tired men marched unevenly, but Johnny noticed the swing of the lithe independent bodies.

Please God, out of this New England soil such men would forever rise up ready to fight when the need came. The one generation after the other.”

This scene defines the primary message in the story. At 14, after serving the Sons of Liberty and seeing the results of the early battles in the Revolution, Johnny recognizes that he and his peers will become the next generation to “rise up read to fight.”

As that pudgy, nerdy 5th grade boy closed the book on Johnny’s story, I was left with a sense of hope for the future and the desire to stand up for my beliefs “when the need came.” Johnny Tremain a hero? For me, yes and always.

The Author–Esther Forbes
By all accounts, Esther Forbes was as much a revolutionary figure as the characters in her story. As a writer, she was a YA pioneer (Historical YA at that!) and told stories that woke the imaginations of children long before I sounded out my first vowel. In Johnny Tremain, her retelling of the events leading up to the start of the American Revolution “through the eyes of a boy, not a leader of the Revolution” earned Forbes the 1944 Newberry Award. “Esther Forbes’s power to create, and to recreate, a face, a voice, a scene takes us as living spectators to the Boston Tea Party, to the Battle of Lexington and of North Creek.”(The Saturday Review, 1943).

Forbes’s talent as an author also earned her a Pulitzer Prize in 1943 for the biography Paul Revere and the World He Lived In–the second woman ever to win a Pulitzer Prize for history (behind Margaret Leech in 1942).

In 1960, she became the first woman elected to membership in the American Antiquarian Society.

Forbes died in 1967 at the age of 76, but her words and books live on for thousands of fans, and for us here at Blunderstone Rookery.
What do you think?
Friends, I invite you to take a look back. What books played a role in developing your early imagination? Comment below and join the conversation.

An Open Invitation

Creative writing. It challenges writers and readers to live their imaginations.

This blog accepts that challenge.

Welcome, friends, to Blunderstone Rookery–
a manor for all manner of writerly thoughts, expressions, and ideas.

Allow me to give you a brief tour of my favorite locations at the estate.

The Parlor
Inside the main parlor, you will always be greeted by a warm fire and even warmer conversations. Pull up a chair, grab a pint of port, and brighten our discussion with your ponderings.

The Library
Up the spiral staircase, and into the rotunda, is the library–complete with a curious collection of classic and contemporary literature spanning floor to ceiling. Here, you are welcome to rediscover favorite tales or explore new adventures.

The Writing Desk
If the Muse beckons, simply make your way to the center of the library and craft your words at the writing desk. Create, revise, and scheme to your heart’s content. You may even share with the rest of us if you like.

Blunderstone Rookery is a fascinating place, indeed. But there is one last location I invite you to see.

The Veranda
Wrapping around the entire dome of the library is the veranda. Out here, relax on a sofa, close your eyes, and allow your imagination to hitch a ride on a whispering breeze.

Topics covered at Blunderstone Rookery will initially originate from these locations: the parlor (general discussion), the library (book reviews and recommendations), the writing desk (writing tips), and the veranda (brainstorm central).

Please, visit often, participate freely, and stay as long as you wish. There is only one house rule, and it is Golden.

Hope to see you around.

Cheers,

Matt