I had a blast this past Saturday night and you’ll never guess where. Neither you nor I could have expected me to say I went to an AC/DC tribute band concert, but that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t go as a closet AC/DC fan. I didn’t just happen to drop in. I didn’t do it on a dare. I went as a mom. My oldest son is a drummer, and Fuse Box is his latest band.
It’s always exciting to hear, and watch, him play, but he’s always been in bar bands that covered 80s-90s rock songs. And though his personal tastes were often harder than the music those bands played, I don’t remember him talking about AC/DC. Nor did I ever expect to see him play in front of such a large crowd in a concert venue.
Besides being a proud mom, I enjoyed the show. I was familiar with more tunes than I knew, they sounded great, despite the singer not having a voice all week because of a cold, and once again, I wondered why music is not as big a part of my life as it used to be.
I guess the answer to that wondering is that I write now. The only music I can listen to while I write is classical. Anything with a lyric distracts me. Anything with a beat has me chair dancing. I used to listen to music in the car, but I don’t drive much nowadays and when I do, I usually prefer silence because I’m thinking about what I’m writing.
Besides not having enough music in my life, I really need to get out more—I’m sure I’ve said that before on this blog. Not that I plan on writing about musicians, or concert, club, or bar goers, but you never know when you might see a person who sparks a fascinating character or overhear a conversation that your writer’s mind transforms into a terrific story.
I’m not saying we should cruise high-crime areas or engage in any other dangerous activity, but it never hurts to stretch a little, to toss your net into new waters to see what you catch. That advice is for myself as much as anyone. Fiction writers need imagination, but if we expect others to relate, we need to base that fiction on real life.
Okay, as you probably expected, I’m going to share a short video clip with you—short because I had no idea how long I could record on my phone. Next time, I’ll record at least one whole song. And, of course, they sound better than my phone picks up. Rock on.