Writing: Taking a bird’s eye view of my new plot yesterday was a good idea. I see the major holes now and know where to focus.
Nature: Bones found some extremely interesting scent trail in the leaf-strewn yard today. It was more than mere squirrels, though I know not what.
Personal: Taking our son to see WWE tonight. We’re real excited.
Yesterday I received a pristine vinyl copy of Georg Muffat’s Sonata No. 5, performed by the London Baroque. The “Passacaglia” movement is one of my favorite classical recordings ever. I played my MP3 version hundreds of times as a mental-centering piece in the years I was writing BELL WEATHER. I consider it the official theme of the novel’s main character, Molly Bell.
Scoring a vinyl copy is a real treat. Most classical labels abandoned vinyl once CDs gained traction in the marketplace, and although vinyl has been making a comeback in rock, pop, electronica, and hip hop, the format is prohibitively expensive for most classical labels, who simply don’t shift enough copies of anything. Because of this, it’s hard finding the classical vinyl I want, especially since I’m finicky. Performances vary hugely, so I might find a copy of another favorite composition, such as Corelli’s Opus 6 Concertos, and reject it because it’s dull, or slow, or played as a Romantic-era piece instead of with the crisper, bouncier spirit of real Baroque.
My point being: I tracked down a vinyl copy of my favorite recording of Muffat’s Sonata No. 5 and I’m super happy. The record sounds superb. (P.S. You can buy the MP3 version of the entire London Baroque album for $5.99 on iTunes.)
I can’t find my preferred version on YouTube, but here’s a pretty good alternative:
Famous album covers begin to sing in this amazing video, which has a sad ending for people who like vinyl.
The first of my IRON MAIDEN black vinyl reissues arrived today. Amazon screwed the pooch on my order, sadly, with one part unexplainably shipping late and another part, the “Killers” LP, arriving melted. It looks like someone left it on a hot plate. I suppose it might have been hell fire. A prompt replacement has been requested.
“The Number of the Beast” LP made it safely, thank God.
The Mavericks’ Tex-Mex cover of Motley Crue’s “Dr. Feelgood” is fantastic. It’s like the ultimate Walter White theme song that Breaking Bad never got to use.
For the truly compulsive hobbyist, there comes a time when a collection gathers weight — metaphysical, existential weight. It becomes as much a source of anxiety as of joy.