INSPIRATION comes from funny places. As does context.
I have a friend who gets ideas from opening the dictionary, and pointing to a word at random.
Another, has gone on Ebay and bought old phone books, like, from the forties, for major North American cities. He says the ads help him think.
I've been known to mouse through my copy of the Complete New Yorker to try and get something going. But I've also written before about the inspiration-generating power of music.
A writer friend of mine hits random on his Ipod, and goes with the first song he gets. Something in the lyric, something in the tone just sets him off. I've used his method myself and it rocks.
When it comes to music, there's melody people and there's lyric people. (or at least there used to be; with the latest evolutions of the music biz I'm not so sure now) Lyric people will forever be surprised by that wedding they went to where the couple's song was "Every Breath You Take." Music people just shrug.
I'm guessing you'll agree without too much trouble that most writers probably tend to be lyric people.
So it was that I found myself at Vancouver's Orpheum last night.
The Orpheum is a beautiful Vaudeville-era house, opened originally in 1927. Since 1977, it's been government owned and is the home of the Vancouver Symphony. Not as much history as Massey Hall in Toronto, maybe, but just as much personality. If you've ever been in the Wintergarden Theatre in Toronto, you get an idea of the ornate interior. It's just a beautiful place to see a concert. And the acoustics are amazing.
Last night was the final night of the North American tour for English trio Keane. Keane had a rough year last year. Then, most of their North American tour was canceled so that lead singer Tom Chaplin could get rid of his demons in rehab. I'm sure all the snickering about the band being "for people who thought Coldplay was too hardcore" didn't help.
But Tom Chaplin was in fine voice last night, and the Vancouver crowd was raucous, appreciative and incredibly vocal. (Seriously, I'm used to going to concerts in Toronto, whose crowds are notoriously deadly)
I got into Keane when I was in South Africa in 2004. Cape Town hews way more to the British cultural orbit than the American, so I was hearing Hopes and Fears and its signature tune, "Everybody's Changing," all through the summer of 2004. Then I came home and got to hear it hit radio in Canada six months later. No Matter.
"Everybody's Changing" is a soaring song of despair. It's about dislocation, and longing, and not knowing where you fit, and seeing everyone else around you moving forward while you can't figure out where you are, or where you belong. It's exactly the kind of catchy melody + lyrics that connected with a guy tooling around in the worst car known to man, working crazy hours in a strange city as far from home as he'd ever been. Pile on the fact that the guy was seriously questioning aspects of his relationships and friendships, suffering from a bit of heartbreak and moral tiredness, and you've got a glorious soundtrack of despair. With keyboards!
(Guess I never got over that Howard Jones phase. Not really.)
Keane's Hopes and Fears is so much a part of my South Africa experience, from paying an insane amount of Rand for it at the Waterfront CD Wherehouse, to playing it all through my post-work week driving through Stellenbosch and the Western Cape of Africa, that I can't seem to separate it out from my memory. "This Is The Last Time" calls up memories of winding my way through Camps Bay or trying to dodge the taxis as they barrelled down the road in Seapoint. "Bedshaped" is the song I'd listen to as I watched the Atlantic crash from my window, wondering, "how is it that I came to be here, at this moment, on the Southern Tip of Africa?"
Flash ahead Two and a half years - and I'm in another rented house. This one's even bigger than the flat that I had in South Africa, which was easily twice the size of my condo at home. I'm also alone in another city, working on a totally different show. So...everybody's changing, do I still feel the same?
Well. Yes and no. WC Dixon wrote an affecting piece a while back about the dislocation involved with working in this industry in Canada. I hadn't really thought about it before then, but he's right. I think it's hard for writers working and planted in L.A. to understand just how fluid you have to be if you work in Canada. The vagaries of tax credits and production mean you're always going somewhere. The Corner Gas writers traipse out to Saskatchewan for several months every year. I'm in B.C. Someone else will be off to Winnipeg for something or other.
When I was in South Africa, much as it was an adventure, I found myself wondering if I was putting off life by doing these sorts of things. Then I came back, and did grinding development work for more than a year, where I didn't go anywhere or do much of anything exciting. So you can't win.
But standing in the Orpheum last night, tapping my feet, while the good-looking and waaaaayyy younger than me crowd sang along, I realized that this time, I didn't feel the same dislocation. I've made peace with the bouncing around and the moving, because that's my life. And that's my adventure. So be it.
And then they played "Everybody's Changing" -- 2nd song in.
It was great, but...second song?
Guess I have to work on the timing of my little life moments, is all.
7 comments:
Hey Denis,
I'm posting anonymously to save time because I lost my password again, but it's me, the ipod guy.
As you may or may not know, I've actually taken the practise even further on the show I am currently developing. Because the main characters in the show are named after members of the rat pack, I decided to start naming the episodes after old pop songs and standards, especially those linked with Sinatra.
The beauty of this is that it works both ways. On the one hand, it's fun to start with a story and find a song title that matches it well. You may remember that we recently broke a story about the lead character quitting smoking, which became "You're Getting To Be a Habit With Me."
But it also opens up the possibiltity of looking through song titles and actually deriving story ideas from the song itself.
I'd recommend the ol' Ipod/iTunes story-generation-machine to just about anyone -- it's surprisingly effective, even if the song only gives you a jumping off point at best, which is generally the case. Anyway, it's a good way to fight the early stages of writer's block. As for the later stages, when the actual story problems start to pile up, well, you're on your own.
Oh, and don't take my Sinatra thing. That one's mine.
I was never more happy than when I was sent to Toronto for development. And I was never more happy than when I was sent to Winnipeg for production. And I am never more happy than when I get to stay in Vancouver for both. The dislocation exists, sure, but it all goes into the scripts and then gets mostly nullified by meeting new people. Those ruts from spinning wheels in the February mud out here are the same as the ones that show up in my brain if I'm in any one place for too long. As Canadian TV writers, we are fortunate for the shake-up. And the air miles. And the new people.
Underwire, I like what you've said about the dislocation showing up in the scripts. It makes me think of an essay that Edward Said wrote, a reference to how Palestinian and Middle Eastern literature reflects the dislocation and displacement that they face.
Interesting, though, how, in Canada, the meeting the new people nullifies the dislocation. Does that enter the script, too?
Tough for people with kids though. I know a guy from Toronto with small kids who works half the year on the east coast and half the year in the prairies.
Which, aside from the benefits you point out, sucks, I think, but I don't think there's much anybody can do about it.
Ah, Howard Jones. I had a massive crush on Howard Jones. He just played Oakville recently. I found out the day after. Bummer. I did see Level 42 in Dublin a few years back in a little club that held about 400 people and that was pretty amazing ... I relate the two, not sure why.
Glad you're having fun and making peace with yourself out there on the road.
I came across your site while searching for Keane's Bedshaped inspiration. I had always wondered what that song was supposd to mean, because I liked it so much and I could tell it was bitter and meloncholy, but the writer's meaning never came through. I just wanted to mention that I had similiar experiences with that very album, Hopes and Fears with my first year in college. Listening to "Everybody's Changing" reminds me of walking on the sidewalk to the Union with my hands in my pockets and thinking about what I was going to do with the rest of my life. "Untitled 1" was playing when I was found I was going to Iraq and "Bedshaped" was pretty much my anthem for the unrequited love of my life. I guess I was just impressed that it affected someone else the same way during roughly the same time period. (2004-2005) So cheers, take care and keep writing, your blog is outstanding!
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