But I just listened to the half of the fake score I just cobbled together by Frankensteining a bunch of soundtracks into one coherent orchestral piece that follows my WIP's story. Alex and I went for a drive, pumped the music through the awesome Prius speakers, and at the point at the end, when the moment happens, I looked over at him, and his eyes were closed. He missed our turn when the lights changed.
"You're getting it," he said. "It actually is working. You're revising using music."
I knew this about myself, that I could combat my anxiety by working in another medium and then translating it over with more confidence and direction. I knew this about me when I was nineteen. And I am not going to not listen to myself again.
Through motifs and variations in soundtracks, I can build and work on thread placement in my story. Through pacing of the ups and downs of the piece, I can study and control my pacing in the writing.
I hope the magic continues to work.
In other news, my piano comes in tomorrow, and that picture was taken this morning when we went out to the car.