For those of you who are unaware, I am writing a new novel. It's for NANO. Those of you who are privy to my NANOing struggles will be happy to know I am about eight thousand words behind with high hopes of catching up and 'winning'.
This new novel is sort of based off of time travel. Kind of, but not really. No one actually goes to a different time or place, but there are ripples into the future. I'd explain it all to you, but you should just wait until it's published. (wink-wink)
Anyhow, part of the novel, the good part, takes place in the nineties. (The bad part takes place in 2013) The main character has an affection for music and I've been drawing inspiration from the hits of my youth. Just between us, I totally remember the lyrics to all the songs I loved as a kid. My tastes were fairly broad, my main character's isn't. He seems to have a problem with R&B. What I have been partaking in is a lot of grunge and punk stuff, and I must say, this stuff is awesome. The Pixies, Nirvana, Rancid, Green Day, Hole, The Cranberries, Flaming Lips ... hell, I've been singing Better Man by Pearl Jam in my head all morning and don't even mind. (Peal Jam being a band I've never really liked. At all.)
The truth is, I love all kinds of music, but there is something about the nineties that makes me incredibly happy. Nostalgia is a funny thing. But as I am sitting there, hammering out a chapter from my novel, I am singing along to all these songs I kind of forgot about. Not truly, I mean, obviously they've just been on the back burner simmering away because I remember every single word, but I think I overlook how awesome the nineties were.
You'd think because I grew up in that era I'd be able to paint a vivid picture of it, except I've had to do a fair bit of research. From computers to clothing and right on to world events, I have a hundred tabs open at once. (A bit of a hyperbole). But each detail I manage to filter in makes me giddy. I've dressed my characters in Doc Martens and made them drive a Volkswagen Cabrio, they've gone to the Kennel Club and smoked indoors, their computers strain the eyes and use dial up to connect to the internet, and so much cocaine has been snorted that even my nose feels raw.
Conclusion? This is fun. I think the last time I've had this much fun writing a book was when Billie was delivering revenge on the open sea.
Honestly, you wouldn't believe what pops into my head, from shows to clothes and bands I have no idea whatever happened to them. (Like how the Sneaker Pimps' song 6 Underground just randomly came to mind) It's weird what snaps back to you when you start thinking about it. Tomorrow I will be wearing a baby doll dress, Sketchers, way too much black eye makeup, outlining my lips with brown eye pencil, using concealer as lipstick, and wearing a floppy hat with a huge flower on it. Don't worry, I won't go so far as to bantu knots. Never.
And I hop you will be pleased to know one of my characters does in fact have angel wings tattooed on her back. For authenticity, of course.