In Quest of the Perfect Song

There were times during the 1980s when I would drive home from Mansfield University straight to the Little League field. I’d meet my wife and we’d have a sub for supper while watching our son, Nathan, play ball.

Occasionally we’d go straight from a game to a concert in which Kim was performing. We’d get home around 9:30. With a few beers by my side I worked on The Perfect Song until 11 or 11:30 p.m.

My wife and I still had the band, still did rehearsals at least once a week and played on the weekends, sometimes both Friday and Saturday nights. By now we had evolved into a 50’s60s group doing Creedence Clearwater Revival, Everly Brothers, Beach Boys, Jim Croce, and dozens of others.

They were good times. I’ve never been involved in anything as satisfying as live music. There is a bond between the musicians and audience. There’s a mutual love of music. It creates an energy that’s immediate, nearly electric and is the reason some musicians want their last act in this world to be on stage.

Let me drop dead there. Carry me out and I’ll see about an encore in another world. Don’t be in a rush. I’ll be there waiting.

Life was full — a family, a job I loved, music and The Perfect Song. If I got discouraged about not making more progress on the book, I don’t remember it. The characters –Mendel, Poul, J.W. Beasely and Mara–were fully evolved and taking their own directions. I was happy to record and follow.

People have always asked me about the process of writing fiction. Where do the characters come from? Do I direct them? Where does the dialogue come from?

Honestly, I don’t know. There is a curious, almost divine melding of spirit and craft. James Lee Burke, one of my favorite writers and a master stylist, says he has blackouts when he writes.

I don’t have blackouts but I do sit back, relax and let higher powers guide me. When you’re really into writing, as with anything else, time doesn’t crawl or rush by.

It stops.

There is no past or future. There are no dimensions or worlds except the one you’re creating.

Whatever the energy is that visits you, accept it. Run with it. Type with a mad mindfulness.

You and the energy. It’s a partnership. A blessed one.