Writer Unboxed

This is a strange time for me, writing-wise, because I’m not plotting fresh text or even editing old stuff. I’m thick in the marketing stage of this game. Add to that, my Odyssey of the Mind team competes in FOUR days, so my time is limited. Yes, I’m courting some new story ideas, but it can get a little depressing not to be creating anything but a haiku every now and then.

But yesterday, the mailman left something that made my writerly self cheer: a music CD.

I discovered Roberto Cacciapaglia while researching my story, trying to learn what it would be like to stand in a particular rail station in Rome. On a chat board, someone mentioned the haunting music that played at one station. Someone else named the artist–Cacciapaglia. I found his work online and fell in fast-and-furious love with his music. Every note could’ve been the soundtrack to my story. I had to have the CD. Problem was, Cacciapaglia’s Italian work was impossible for me to locate in this country; it was out of stock everywhere. Still, I bookmarked his website, and visited the music links whenever I needed a boost in those last few weeks of writing. I hadn’t listened to his work for a while when, a few days ago, Amazon sent a notice to say Quarto Tempo was available with a limited number of copies, did I still want it? I ordered it right away.

So now, as I type this, I’m listening to Atlantico, a song that instantly transports me into my story and reconnects me with the characters. I hear meloncholia in this music, a woman’s regret. I hear the sea. I hear the dance of the twin girls who make up the heart of the tale, dancing over a cold beach with bare feet. I hear a touch of magic. This music reminds me of the writing struggle but more than that, it reminds me why I took this journey: because I love my characters and their story. It reminds me that the work meant something–even if it is never published.

That’s a tough truth and worth repeating: The work–the months and years I poured into it–meant something, even if the story is never published.

I’ve grown as a writer throughout this process. I have a finished product where once a solitary idea sat shy and meek in my mind. Mine is the pride anyone who’s finished a manuscript must feel for reaching The End. But being an Odyssey of the Mind coach has taught me something, too: As much as it would be great to come in First Place, or get that publishing contract, to know that your product is worth recognition and is highly valued, the process is just as–if not more–important.

But, damn, I’d still love a contract. Would love to see my team with a trophy, too.

Have you ever experienced a fated moment like the one I had discovering Cacciapaglia’s work? What inspires you when you need to reconnect with your writerly self? And if your book were a song, what would it be?

Below, I’ve pasted a YouTube of Roberto Cacciapaglia’s evocative Atlantico, if anyone’s interested in a little virtual translocation. Or, click HERE to listen to Atlantico on Cacciapaglia’s website. (I prefer the 2nd version with the singer.) Write on, all!

Roberto Cacciapaglia – Atlantico

Therese Walsh co-founded Writer Unboxed in 2006. Her debut novel, The Last Will of Moira Leahy, sold to Random House in a two-book deal in 2008, was named one of January Magazine’s Best Books of 2009, and was a Target Breakout Book in 2010. She's never been published with a lit magazine, but LOST's Carlton Cuse liked her haiku best on Twitter, and that made her pretty happy.

Therese Walsh

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