Do you write to music?
Many of my author friends do. Katalina Leon, a writer with Ellora’s Cave, mentioned in her blog over at Seven Sexy Scribes that she likes to put on a song and loop it so that it plays over and over again. I’ll do that on occasion, but only when I’m alone in the car and I can sing at the top of my lungs. And only with certain songs. I pity the poor fool driving behind me on the freeway watching me dance in my seat at 75 mph!
I found myself wondering just the other day, the Allman Brothers blasting on my car stereo, why do we sing? Birds sing. Some insects sing…sort of. What evolutionary advantage does singing confer? I came to the conclusion that it provides none - I guess I think of singing and music as a gift - oh…I don’t know…as in a gift from the gods? I suppose one could surmise that a person who could sing the best got the pick of the litter, attracted more mates, because most of us do love to listen to a beautiful voice, but somehow that doesn’t seem right. Men and women are attracted to each other for more reasons than I can count, the ability to make music is merely one.
I think we sing for the sheer joy of it. Or maybe out of sorrow - poetry and weeping put to music. Yes, to sing is to be one with the heavens. Music is sublime…well, aside from maybe William Hung.
So. My favorites? Too many to mention but I am partial to rock and roll and Motown. In my contemporary romance, Beauty and the Feast, coming out in March - Resplendence Publishing - my heroine, Eva Raines, likes Bonnie Raitt and Lowell George of Little Feat. Grace Raphael, in My Everything, coming with Cobblestone Press, is a big Barry White fan. Both women love to sing. Me too!
The Allman Brothers, Whippin’ Post
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