Music, of course, overlaps heavily with prose writing, and part of this series has been illuminating the importance, I feel, of drawing inspiration from everywhere and anywhere. Each of my main characters has a theme song, the super important ones have whole playlists, and even certain moments and sequences have musical accompaniments that, if I am stuck for inspiration, I listen to, to help regain it.
But if I would have to point to a single song that has had a great influence over how I write, it would be Chris de Burgh’s “The Storyman.” The song itself is an ode to the kind of writing, especially in fiction and fantasy, that I aspire to. The lyrics are full of allusions of de Burgh’s other work both in the album and elsewhere, and speak to the stories he has crafted through his lyrics over the years. But it is the chorus where I draw the most inspiration and that makes me so take to heart the beauty that is great writing.
“Take me back to the places I’ve never been,
“Take my back to another time.
“Take me back to world I have never seen,
“Only in my mind, only in my mind.”
Conceptually, that’s the ideal of writing, and it’s a sense of familiarity easily conveyed by the books that at the very least I enjoy.
Consider for a moment Harry Potter, A Song of Ice and Fire, Anna Karenina, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, etc. I’ve never been to Hogwarts (sad), or Westeros (could probably do without actually going there), Imperial Russia (the revolution was a bit ways off so I think that’d be fine, or space (much like dear Arthur Dent if I do go I probably won’t have a lot of choice in the matter). But all that doesn’t matter because when I pick up those books, even on rereads.
I think that’s a power not unique to writing but to anything artistic, the nature of its ability to transport and relate experiences that not everyone has had or will have. It’s found in the beauty of a painting that for a moment makes you stop and think about the kind of thing like when it was painted or what was the artist thinking while painting.
I’ve recently taken up photography as a hobby, and in doing so, you get that same sense as in writing. Capturing moments and sharing them. Even if two people are standing next to each other and take a photo of ostensibly the same thing- they’re going to be different photos for a myriad of reasons. Your photo, and here by extension, your view on literally anything, your imagination… that’s unique, and the arts are a way to communicate it.
When done effectively, in writing, there’s that moment referenced in the chorus above, that moment of transportation and nigh enlightenment. In that moment of writing, of art, of communication, you get the opportunity to take someone to places they’ve never been, other times, to worlds they’ve never seen but feel a part of.
Arriving at Platform 9 ¾.
Watching your allies and enemies take their rightful, or otherwise, seat on the Iron Throne.
Harvesting grass beside Russian peasants.
Falling beside a very unfortunate whale some miles above the surface of an alien planet.
The covers of books are portals to other worlds, and being imagined doesn’t make them any less real than if they’re nonfiction. It’s a power that everyone, in some way has, and should be encouraging for anyone conducting creative activities. It’s yours, and no one else’s, but you’ll be able to bring them there, if only in their minds.