This is the final part of my 5-part beginner’s guide to musical writing. How can we use sound and rhythm to create beautiful writing? So far I’ve explored the use of stress and sound to create patterns and rhythm, both in individual phrases and then how to draw it together to produce cadence in a scene. In this final part I’m going to bite the bullet and try to give an example of how to take a bare bones scene and make it musical. I’m not promising great writing (would that I could). But you should be able to see the musical process in action, and then steal it and do something better. Good luck!
This was one blog post that grew out of control and had to be split into five parts to save lives and the author’s sanity.
Part 1: “A How To Guide for Beginners.” Introduces the concept of music in writing and shows how we create rhythmic structure through stressed syllables.
Part 2: “Repetition, Alliteration and Assonance.” Explores creating patterns of sound using repetition, alliteration and assonance, and how these drive rhythm, tempo and pace.
Part 3: “An introduction to Cadence.” Introduces the idea of cadence, and describes ways we can use structure to bring all the sounds of a scene together.
Part 4: “Cliché and Rhetorical Figures.” Looks at the use of rhetorical figures to help us create cadence without re-inventing the rhythmic wheel.
Part 5: A Worked Example.” Gives a worked example that takes a script outline with dead dialogue and converts it, using all the techniques described, into “musical” dialogue. Or as close as I can manage.
Example and Exercise
We now have a list of techniques that we can use to make our text more musical. In this section I’m going to throw together a simple scene, then forcibly apply this list of techniques to different parts of the text:
- Simple Repetition
- Alliteration and Assonance (Repeating consonant or vowel sounds)
- A metre (probably an iambic something or other – Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM)
- A shift of pace from short to long sentences, in either or both directions.
- Antithesis (comparing opposites)
- A climax (building from small to big via repititions)
- Anaphora (starting a series of phrases with the same words)
- Cadence (gulp – the hardest one to achieve – establish a pattern and then draw it together at the end of the scene)
The point of a checklist exercise like this is not to build a beautiful scene. Seeking out specific techniques at the expense of choosing what best fits the content is a great way to make a really crappy, artificial scene. So why bother with an exercise like this?
First, forcing yourself to use techniques like this is a way to internalise them. Once you have had a practice at using rhetorical figures then they will start to feel natural. You will get a sense for how to improvise with them and use them in proper writing. But the only way you’re going to get that sense is if you force yourself to use them first. Essentially, this is to writing as playing scales is to music.
Second, I hope that the second version of the scene will sound prettier than the first. If there are one or two nice sounding bits of dialogue in the scene that show how using these techniques make things better, then the exercise will be a victory. I strongly recommend having a go yourself!
The Scene
To get going I need a scene to musicalize. What can I write in half an hour in a pub? First, let’s take a random conflict: A wants money, B doesn’t want to give it to them. Let’s add a third character who is putting pressure on A to succeed. I’m going to borrow a technique I learned from a William Hague book and in the first pass write it as if the characters are just saying exactly what they want, without giving them any proper dialogue or using any of our musical techniques. This should give a framework to start from. All we want to see is an intention, it’s obstacle, and some action. Any resemblance to political satire should be ignored.
Just in case you missed it: This is not the proper scene, this is a framework from which we will work. If you catch yourself thinking “wow, the dialogue here is really bad, what the hell is he doing?” then give yourself a slap because you’ve missed the point! Yes, I am pre-empting comments. Yes, I know it won’t work! Here goes…
INT: BANK DAY
WARREN points a gun across the counter. SANDERS, sat behind the counter, is presses the alarm button beneath the till. In the far corner, CLINTON points a gun at three customers, who have their hands on their heads and their faces to the wall.
WARREN: I want you to stay calm, take the money from the till, and put it in the bag.
SANDERS: I won’t do that. It isn’t my money and my job is to protect the bank.
WARREN. I don’t want to shoot you, but I want you to see that I have a gun and to give me the money.
SANDERS: I don’t believe you will shoot. If I wait long enough the police will arrive and I will be a hero.
WARREN: I want you to believe that I will shoot you if you don’t do what I want.
SANDERS: I am feeling confident because this is bullet proof glass. I think that even if you do shoot, you won’t hurt me or get the money before the police arrive.
CLINTON: Warren, I want you to hurry up. I am worried that if this guy keeps on talking the rest of the customers will get restless.
WARREN: Clinton, I don’t want you to start shooting people. Sanders, give me the money.
SANDERS: I’m a hero and everyone can see it. When the police get here everyone will know that I saved the bank.
WARREN: You are pissing me off. You are making things worse. If people get hurt it will be your fault.
SANDERS: I don’t care. I won’t be the one doing the shooting. I’ll still be a hero.
Warren shoots outs the glass, breaks through, and kicks Sanders head in.
CLINTON: I am surprised and impressed, but worried about the alarm.
Warren takes the money from the till.
WARREN: I am angry with myself and want to blame Clinton, but don’t want to get caught by the police.
So, we have a scene.
Repetition, Alliteration and Assonance (Repeating consonant or vowel sounds)
I sort of do this stuff automatically by now. Here’s a spread out example:
SANDERS: The alarms went off as soon as you came into the bank. The police will be here soon.
WARREN: Not soon enough.
The repetition of soon not only creates the worried “oo” sound but it emphasises the time limit “soon, soon, soon” – move – we’re running out of time. You can, and often should, use closer packed alliteration or assonance – a short sharp shock – but that sort of thing really stands out.
A metre (probably an iambic something or other – Da DUM Da DUM Da DUM)
We can split our metre across several lines, using it to build both rhythm and pace – Clinton’s intervention seems like a good place to do it. Let’s make it a pentameter in honour of the bard.
CLINTON: You good?
WARREN: I’m good.
CLINTON: You sure?
WARREN: I’m sure.
SANDERS: She’s sure.
See – it doesn’t have to be clever to have metre! Good? Good. Sure? Sure. Sure. That feels like it’s building up to something, so how about this following it up with this:
WARREN: Just don’t shoot anybody.
A shift of pace from short to long sentences, in either or both directions (and some repetition)
After we build up the pace with our sneaky little iambic pantemeter, it feels right to switch into a monologue – we’ve built up the tension so if someone makes a speech everyone will listen very, very carefully. But who should make the speech? It has to be Sanders, really.
SANDERS: You’re full of shit. You come in here waving your gun about and expecting me to be scared. But you’re the one whose scared. You’re so scared your guns shaking. Any minute now, the police are going to kick in the doors, you and your friend will go to prison, and I will be right here protecting these people’s money.
I’m sure you notice the repetitions and the climax, right there at a climax.
Antithesis (comparing opposites)
My first thought was…
WARREN: I’m taking the money. You can either come out of this alive, or get dragged out of here dead.
Which has a touch of alliteration at the end as well. But, is there something about bank heist scenes that lean towards cheese, or is it just me? How about:
WARREN: I’m taking the money. You either get out of this alive, or… the other thing.
This still works as an antithesis because the audience is thinking “or dead” when Warren says “or… the other thing.” It might even get a laugh. But it doesn’t quite have the strength of “dragged out of her dead.” I may just flip a coin.
A climax (building from small to big via repititions) and an Anaphora (starting a series of phrases with the same words)
SANDERS: I won’t do that. I won’t give you the money. And I won’t let you get away with this.
I kind of hate that pretty hard, but it works as an example of anaphore (I won’t, I wont’, I won’t) and as a weak climax. Why did I cheat and start the third sentence with “And”? Because it helps emphasise the third sentence as climax by creating a beat and adding length. It doesn’t totally break the Anaphora because the sounds will hold together.
Still, if this wasn’t an exercise I’d cut that line so fast it would be gone before it bled. The repetition of “I won’t” makes the underlying idea that he is living out a hero fantasy clear, but the lines, God, so… cheesy….
Cadence (Establish a pattern and then draw it together at the end of the scene)
Saying “and now I’m going to write a scene as an example of cadence” is a bit like saying “and now I’m going to play a perfect jazz solo.” A wee bit presumptuous regarding my skill as a writer. Still, the only way we’ll tell is if we take a look at the whole thing together. Hopefully you’ll see some patterns of sound emerging that hold the whole thing together.
Our new ‘musical’ scene
INT: BANK DAY
WARREN points a gun across the counter. SANDERS, sat behind the counter, presses the alarm button beneath the till. In the far corner, CLINTON points a gun at three customers, who have their hands on their heads and their faces to the wall.
WARREN: Just stay calm, and do as I tell you.
SANDERS: The alarms went off as soon as you came into the bank. The police will be here soon.
WARREN: Not soon enough. Open the till and put the money in the bag.
SANDERS: I won’t do that. I won’t give you the money. And I won’t let you get away with this.
WARREN: (Taps the gun against the glass window) I’m taking the money. You either get out of this alive, or… the other thing.
SANDERS: Can’t even say it, can you.
WARREN: It doesn’t matter if I can say it or not.
SANDERS: This is bullet proof glass.
CLINTON: Warren?
SANDERS: Maybe your shot goes through. Maybe it doesn’t. But there’s no way you get out before the police get here.
CLINTON: You good?
WARREN: I’m good.
CLINTON: You sure?
WARREN: I’m sure.
SANDERS: She’s sure.
WARREN: Just don’t shoot anybody.
SANDERS: You’re full of shit. You come in here waving your gun about and expecting me to be scared. But you’re the one whose scared. You’re so scared your guns shaking. Any minute now, the police are going to kick in the doors, you and your friend will go to prison, and I will be right here protecting these people’s money.
WARREN: You aren’t a hero. You’re just going to get someone killed.
SANDERS: I’m not the one with the gun.
WARREN: Fine.
Warren shoots the glass. It doesn’t break. She shoots again and again. The customers scream and cower. She breaks in the window with her first, grabs Sanders, and beats his head in. Blood everywhere. Sanders doesn’t make a sound.
WARREN: I’m not scared.
CLINTON: Nice work! Get the alarm!
Warren takes the money from the till. She ignores the alarm – she can’t shut it off anyway.
WARREN: Just stay calm, and do as I tell you.
Reflections and Conclusions.
Like a lot of writers, I find it hard to read anything I wrote without cringing and thinking about nearby sharp instruments. Hopefully this scene isn’t so bad that I’ve lost all credibility. But is it musical?
At the very least, you should be able to see how the introduction of patterns of sound transformed the piece from the original framework. It comes of the page reasonably well and it isn’t difficult to read. There’s tension, you can tell what’s happening, and the sounds reflect the emotional context. It may or may not be good, but it does show that you can make your writing better by consciously thinking about the sound.
Did I achieve cadence? I honestly have no idea. But you should be able to see how I’ve tried to structure it: the repeated repetitions, the echoing of the opening in the finale with the adoption of the counterpoint in the turn, and the steady shifts of pace that lead into the conclusion. Experiment with methods of this type and I’m sure you can do better than I have here. And the process of writing the exercise, along with writing these posts, has helped me understand the process a little better. I hope it helped!
In these five parts I’ve covered a lot of ground and shared a lot of ideas. One of the most important is that you can’t just say “right, I’ve used alliteration, assonance, repetition; I’ve built a pattern in the scene and I’ve highlighted important points with metre”, then magically get good writing. Forcing your writing to use these things when you don’t feel it, as we have in this exercise, is likely to do the exact opposite. But, if you practice, and learn how to do use musical techniques, then they will become tools to try when you want to lift your writing.
At the end of the day, it is your ear and your heart and your gut that will lead you to your best writing. And the prettiest writing in the world won’t help if you have no story. But trying out a little music theory will never hurt. Good luck!
