I have been writing a book this summer, in the usual mad tearing hurry. (Much as I admire those who take four or five years to write one, I have to ask, how do you eat? This isn’t by any means a sensible way of making a living.)
Intense workload, though, means music, and lots of it. Many writers simply cannot work with tunes blaring out of nearby speakers; I cannot work without them. Music masks my tinnitus and distracts the part of my brain that would otherwise be trying to distract me from my work. You know, the Facebook part. The videos-of-cats part. The Marks & Spencers chocolate-covered shortbread part.
Normally, when not writing a book, I would play quite loud, beat-heavy music while working: ‘the rhythm of rhyming guitars’, in Bryan Ferry’s deathless phrase. But as stress levels rise, so the need for calmer music becomes more acute.
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