I love a band that can inspire me no matter what genre I’m writing. Presently, I’ve found my mind leaping across three different writing projects in the last few weeks, trying to get work done on all of them and not go crazy at the same time. Between doing that, working full-time, and writing weekly blog posts…well…let’s just say I like to stay busy. alt-J has provided numerous opportunities to immerse myself in the story, no matter what the genre, and to get right down to business. This has been the case with a certain travel comedy sequel I’ve been planning (you’ll know the one), a short story directly linked to my latest book “Memento Mori” and my coup-de-grace of projects, my untitled apocalyptic novel. There is something undefined about alt-J’s style. Certainly one could imagine blazing across the country in a car, the wind in your hair from the open window as “Left Hand Free” blasts, or trekking along a deserted road in the wake of a catastrophe to “Hunger of the Pine”. That’s how amazing and diverse their music is and why I’ve been listening to them so much. Today, I’m going to share with you a few of their songs and describe what I see when I listen to them. Enjoy!
Hunger of the Pine: She lays face up on the bed, eyes wide open and arms stretched out, staring at the ceiling. She can smell the coffee brewing downstairs, hear the school bus outside picking up the local neighborhood kids. All she can do is stare. The blankness of the ceiling reflects how blank she feels that morning. Did all of those things yesterday actually happen? Was it all just a dream? She forces herself to stand up, to go to the window and stare at the world moving around her. How easy and cowardly it would be to remain in the house and act as if time wasn’t passing. She wasn’t a coward and she didn’t like easy.
Tesselate: The clock struck and she moved. Traffic raced by and she ignored the sound, keeping the repetitive rhythm of the clock chiming in her head as her feet slapped the sidewalks. The rain rippled down over her hot skin and her muscles burned with the pleasurable exercise. If only everyone understood. If only everyone saw how great this was, how fantastic this felt. Still three miles to go. Hills that slipped up and down and forests that followed them, like colorful images in a pop-up book. This was heaven. This was hell. And at the end of it, she would be transformed.
Something Good: The ashes lifted and twirled into the air. The warm ocean wind carried them high up over her head, a deadly firefly caressing the navy sky and racing far, far away from its genesis. There was a movement behind the thunderheads, as if a giant were stalking prey behind them, an animal lying in wait deciding whether or not to strike. This night was unlike any other she’d seen and she knew she’d never see another like it. What was about to happen would change it all.
Every Other Freckle: Holding the leaf against the wind, she felt the car accelerate under her. The pressure forced against her hand out the window. The leaf fluttered violently, snapping and weaving in the intense wind. She smiled and looked over at him as he drove. This was what she’d waited for. Hard to believe years of dreaming, waiting had all culminated in this moment. The leaf slipped from between her fingers and was lost in the current behind them.
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Stay tuned for the next Inspiration Through Music!