Travis Thrasher's Blog, page 12

Writing On The Wall

 

Curiosity. This gift from God that seemed to get us into so much trouble.

I’m full of it. Closed eyes, picturing her, picturing the lines, picturing the smile. It’s a kerosene heater in a cabin in the middle of a winter full of broken power lines. I want to know more, want to find out something, want to fill my wonder with answers to these weird little questions.

But I can’t find or see her.

Silence, this strange solace you want in the noise and hate in the echoes. The steps on the sidewalks you notice. The slide of the door to open up to strangers that don’t see you in the first place. The wind blowing and making you cold even though you shouldn’t feel the chill anymore right?

I look and wait. Watch and stay. I glance and gaze and keep the stare scanning this place I never noticed.

We watch when there’s something we want don’t we?

Stuck, staring out, these still lifes begging to be bought and set free.

Wanted and wishing to be found, arrived at, door opened and hugged with love. The always coming into your afternoon. With that smile. That smile that reflects the sky and tells you it won’t ever leave.

I wonder if she was some kind of dream. A grim afterlife fantasy. Was it all imagined? Or simply too good to be true.

The streets and the stone and the sidewalks and the hanging lights surrounding us all hang like a painting on a wall staring you down day after day. Keeping you prisoner. Telling you—daring you to make that U-turn. But you just keep going keep walking keep breathing until the moment you turn and see a vague figure that might be and could be and possibly should be—

Her.

Stepping through. Opening then closing. And you stand and you stare and you wonder and then you go.

You go because there’s nothing really you can do anymore.

There are no rules here and this is something you can and will and should do.

So you do.

What came of the things we once believed?

Drift dear one

Toward the doldrums

Toward the decibels you can’t hear

Toward ceiling cycles you can’t follow

Blades of waves circle you around and tell the truth

These things are not your own

And at the epicenter you stand and stare out

These beliefs do not make you alone

And forest fires in the barren of the fields

You fall down on knees and wonder where

And the how and the now and the glorious doubt you succumb to

Ripples of unrest of this glorious love you want to try to best

Breathe in and be seasick

Wade in and waver out

Centerstone this great big monotone

And look up and look out and wonder

Staring and centered

It’s here

And

It’s so near

And

We’re almost in the clear

And

I can almost hear the praise amidst the cheer

And

I pull and puncture this balloon and tear it back toward the only me I can cheer

To hover and love

To sidestep and escape somewhere above

Through skittish sidewalls of demise

Love me however you might love

I need a drop to stop the procession

I need a little breath of a wake

I need this little bit of every kind of rhyming rhetoric

Fortune cookies from the sky

To tell me where and what and why

And breathe and believe

Smiling and trying and seeing the bird hovering waving goodbye

God seems so much bigger in this kind of life

So I close my eyes

And I close my eyes

And I keep on trying

Top Ten Soundtracks by Thomas Newman

After watching The Help the other night, I found myself wanting to make a top ten list of my favorite Thomas Newman soundtracks. I probably own at least forty scores by him, and there are lots more out there. I think he’s not only an incredible talent but a musical genius. I love how he excels in a variety of genres. Just look at the upcoming films he is scoring: Spectre, The Good Dinosaur and Bridge of Spies

So here’s my top ten, at least for today . . .

#10. Finding Nemo (2003)—Such a perfect score for a perfect movie. The opening few minutes where we see the happy family, then the barracuda attack, then the father left with one remaining egg he names Nemo and vows to never let anything happen to him . . . This all serves as an introduction right before the score opens up and the title credits come on screen. There is no way to imagine all of this without Newman’s beautiful music.

Highlighted Track: “Nemo Egg (Main Title)”—I made a compilation disc to listen to when we drove our firstborn home from the hospital. This song will forever remind me of Kylie. Our daughter and this song are both beautiful gifts.

#9. The Help (2011)—Another winning score that I can’t imagine the film being without. For some reason Newman just seems to nail historical dramas (Shawshank Redemption, Green Mile, etc.). The combination of whimsy and heartache bounce back and forth with each other like the volleys in a great tennis match. This was a tearjerker of a film when we saw it in the theaters and I cried even more when I just watched it again. Newman will hold back on the emotion until the right moment, then it’s like a sucker punch on your soul when he goes full-throttle with feeling. Amazing.

Highlighted Track: “Constantine”—The kind of piece Newman seems to be known for. A simple, sad melody that often seems to float like some kind of child’s lost balloon that produces tears as it drifts away.

#8. Less Than Zero (1987)—An unreleased early gem from Thomas Newman. I loved this movie and still do—so dark and eerily foreshadowing the troubles that would follow Robert Downey Jr. for a while in his career. Newman had done a lot of quirky comedies in the 80’s (“Desperately Seeking Susan” and “The Man With One Red Shoe” for instance) and his music reflected them. This showed another side of him. The main theme is spooky, like a fog hovering over a bay. I’m glad I found tracks online to be able to write to it.

Highlighted Track: Well, any of them really since you’ll have to YouTube them. But “Early Morning Phone Call” showcases the main haunting theme.

#7. Angels in America (2003)—I never watched this HBO mini-series but remember the morning I bought this cd. I was already starting to work on my novel called Sky Blue and upon hearing the main title, I realized right away it would also become the main title for my work-in-progress. A magical, mysterious and ghostly soundtrack.

Highlighted Track: “Mauve Antartica”—Dreamlike, floating, the track I pictured as Colin and Jen made love on New Year’s Eve.

#6. Road To Perdition (2002)—I still remember going to see this film opening day. I had just arrived for a trade show and slipped away for the afternoon to see it. Within seconds of the opening credits I was absolutely enthralled. I went to see the film specifically because Thomas Newman was the composer. By the time an unspeakable act of violence occurs and the father & son head to Chicago, I realized that I needed to write my novel Gun Lake. Again, Newman was in his element with a historical drama about troubled men. There were the dark themes (“Road to Chicago”), the quirky ones (“Meet Maguire”), and the outright graceful ones (“The Farm”). All brilliantly showing the vast talent of Newman.

Highlighted Track: “Ghosts.” This is a perfect example of the impact Thomas Newman can have on a film. Instead of a loud action sequence full of gunfire and screams and male testosterone, we have this subtle and brooding piano piece with falling pieces of dread in the background. Then we have the soaring motion as the “son” does what’s necessary to his “father”.

 #5. American Beauty (2000)—This is the moment where Thomas Newman seemed to reinvent himself. Perhaps because it was the turn of the century or perhaps because he was coming off grand symphonic scores. But this contemporary drama about a dysfunctional family was treated with a strange and brilliant soundtrack. For one thing, lots of percussion and unusual instruments were used. It was still Newman at the core when the moving moments were necessary. These were accentuated by the simple, minimalistic and somber piano pieces.

Highlighted Track: “Walk Home”—One minutes and twenty seconds of pure perfection.

#4. The Green Mile (1999)—Newman’s second soundtrack for a Stephen King story directed by Frank Darabont. Somehow, the two scores Newman did for these King works fit perfectly. There is a melancholy dread filling these tunes. But, like Shawshank, there is also an underlying sense of hope and redemption. Both of these stories are contrasts of dread and hope. I’ve listened to the last five tracks on the album many, many times when writing about desperate souls finally reaching their ends and giving up.

Highlighted Track: “Coffey On The Mile”—There are so many great tracks, but this one is the climax of the film. Sad, soaring, unforgettable.

#3. Meet Joe Black (1998)—While the film itself isn’t the best (though it’s not as bad as some of the critics claimed), the soundtrack is magnificent. It’s a love story of sorts, but it’s also about a man realizing he’s going to die and leave all those he loves behind. Once again, we have many wistful moments as well as the classic Newman melancholy. “Whisper of a Thrill” is a love-making scene where the music truly seems to be evocative of the experience on the screen. It’s not erotic but more transcendent. Lovely is an overused word, but it fits for this soundtrack.

Highlighted Track: “That Next Place.” Probably the longest Newman track ever put on a soundtrack at over ten minutes, it’s perfect in how it builds and builds. It seems to be a perfect fit for the line Anthony Hopkins shares during a toast: “65 years. Don’t they go by in a blink?”

#2. The Horse Whisperer (1998)–Robert Redford first hired the famous film composer John Barry for this film. Barry was famous for his work on James Bond films but also for soaring scores like Out of Africa. The soundtrack he ended up producing didn’t work for Redford (with pieces rumored to be released later on his album “The Beyondness of Things”). Thomas Newman came in and delivered one of his defining scores.

The opening track with the guitar and violin signaled the setting of the film in Montana. But the soundtrack follows the journey of broken souls who are slowly restored and redeemed. “There Was Snow”, for instance, is eerie and builds like so many beloved Newman tracks. There’s the daughter’s journey told in the score along with a forbidden love story told in another set of pieces. I adore this soundtrack. A family drama I wrote years ago called Bull Road has this as its soundtrack. I hope to rewrite it using the same music one day.

Highlighted Track: For the love story, it’s “The Rhythm of the Horse.” And for the journey of hope for the young girl, it’s “Grace.” The latter is one of the most moving pieces Thomas Newman has written in his career.

#1. Shawshank Redemption (1994)—I believe this is Thomas Newman’s defining work. From the aptly titled “Stoic Theme” that starts the film, it signals you that this will be a serious and moving story. There are two main themes—the haunting piano piece of desperation in “Brooks Was Here” and the yearning complimentary piece that wavers between struggle and hope in “Zihuatanejo .” The twist of the story is paired with a brooding, building score of the brilliant escape (“The Shawshank Redemption”). Once again, when Newman wants to unleash goosebumps, he doesn’t hold back.

This has always been my go-to soundtrack, and I’ve never grown tired of it. Having written so many characters down-on-their-luck seeking hope and redemption, this score always serves me well to capture the hope and the spirit of Andy Dufresne & Red. “Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”

Highlighted Track: I’ve already written about “Compass and Guns” before, the most moving track on the album. So instead I’ll pick another simple and short one. “Suds on the Roof.” A brilliant scene that shows the beauty of hope and compassion. It’s one of the first times we hear a bit of the glory of the end title.

There are many more incredible soundtracks by Thomas Newman, so this is only skimming the surface. Check out his work. I can’t wait for his two upcoming scores for Spectre and The Good Dinosaur.

Summer Buy One Get One Free Sale!

From today until next Thursday (July 30), I’m going to do my BUY ONE GET ONE FREE sale! Order a book from me and I’ll send you another title of mine free (while quantities last). I’ll autograph both titles and will include some fun things like bookmarks & postcards with the order.

A few things related to the sale. This applies for US orders only. (Shipping for anything outside of the US including Canada ends up being too costly.) For the free book, you can only pick a softcover title. You can either put the free book you want in the comments box at the end of the order, or email me and let me know.

Happy reading!

Click here to order!

 

Oceans

(A poem by Marvella Garcia from AWE)

I want to dive in deep and swim to the endless bottom

To not think of the light I need to see since it’ll be there. To not think of the breath I need to breathe since I’ll be breathless.

I want to float standing still in a sea I can fully see.

To no longer be colorblind but to see new colors never created until now.

To hear the silence stream by like a firework.

To forge fragments of memory into amazing and unseen forms.

To listen to the lyrics on the skin and to find their meanings in the scars.

To drift like a bird unburdened in places it’s never been.

To oceans deep inside of me, where regrets swim away so freely.

To places where we stay awake. Awaiting nothing. Finally all right.

My Song Is Love Known

It’s a song that will never be sung again in the same way. A melody that nobody can capture. With lyrics nobody will ever write down.

Yet the song is heard.

In the tremble of the storm, the melody is recognized.

In the sanctuary of the echo-filled pavillion, the lyrics are recorded.

Behind a sky full of fears and exhaustion and searching and insecurities and deeply-buried hurts lies the sun and moon and stars.

Beyond that, their maker listens.

The song starts with the motion of footsteps. They shuffle in a circle.

Then one voice begins to sing. Low, sparse, barely heard. Yet moments later, another voice joins in. This one is lighter, higher, more articulate.

They sing different lyrics.

Another voice joins in. Then another. Then another.

And the symphony begins to play together. So many singers, so many tones and styles. All sharing something different. Yet together, it’s this beautiful river song that glides along and offers a cool respite from a hot and humid day.

These voices, their words, and the hearts behind them are all known.

Young hearts speaking out for old souls. Coming together under one roof for one reason. This reason. This purpose.

The talk of craft and the camaraderie suddenly feel insignificant.

These young lives take a moment to sing out a jubilant song before God. One of praise. One of petition. Thanking God. Asking God for blessings.

The song is for you and for the other adults in the center. The ones with the closed eyes and the wet cheeks. The ones finding it hard to breathe because they feel so blessed.

This is love song. It’s a known song. It’s beautiful. It’s for the broken sung by the broken.

On a stormy Friday night in a camp tucked away in the Kentucky hills, the students loved and prayed over suddenly turn the tables and do the same to you.

You suddenly feel in the middle of a tornado full of hope.

It’s an amazing moment—this beautiful song—this chance to be poured into—these voices all singing in a unified spirit.

Some songs are love unknown. Messy melodies created then discarded for something better. But tonight, the song is very much known.

The maker of music smiles and knows and loves.

You’ve spent the week trying to tell and show others something. But now they’ve turned the tables and done the same thing to you.

This song being sung. It forces you to accept something. To finally believe it.

You are a true masterpiece. And you are very much loved.

Grateful and humbled and breathless, you open your eyes at the end of the melody to see a snapshot of yourself as a teenager.

No storm nor cloud nor season will ever prevent your Father from hearing songs like this.

It’s taken you so many years to continue to know and believe this. Yet the beautiful thing is that some of these young faces in front you have already learned this.

You will never forget this song sung on a stormy night.

God won’t either.

The Still In The Storm

Tree tops sweep the sky

As a storm of regret brushes through

A cloudy paragraph spills out

Finding solace on dry ground

Carved-out cuts spell what calligraphy can’t

Love shatters stone

Love stitches wounds

Love also fortifies the walls once again

Waving strands make the hillside shiver

A held breath, a brief respite

A floating cloverleaf landing on a palm

A reminder of being known in the still and the storm

The Big Endless Blue

Gather your stories together

We’re all under weather

We’re all ready to listen

To this glorious, sun-baked sweetsong

Shared with this wonderful grace glistening like dew

Something so new

Something so unexpected

Something I’ve never quite seen

But discoveries bring expectations

And new lands bring new conquests

And these ideas bring lots more

And every single major chord brings a minor hurricane

The seas roar out loud

With the unease of a sailor set adrift after a mutiny

Doused and reaping the failures of yesterday

Swimming with desperation toward tomorrow

Where sand and sun and safety await

Like the end of a story you just wrote

Like some kind of song you wrote for someone else

Like the slide of some kind of glorious photo you just took

Like the something you thought you’d always be seeking for

But no more

Cause the glory is tainted and sunburnt

And you’ve ditched the playlists and stopped looking

Stopped listening

Stopped paying attention

Only to find things better

Far better and brighter

Far beyond all of those stormy days

Finally figuring out the big endless blue surrounding you

Near Light

           Take me into the still. Where I can wait and watch. Where the wind can make figure eights around me.             Let me pause and exhale and stare up and see.             Let the wonder still startle me like it used to.             Bring me to a hill I can coast down while the tank hovers on empty.              Bring me to the center of the unknown to a sweet spot of rest.             Set the sun for the night so I can light up the sparklers in the backseat.             Set the moon and the stars in motion so they can perform pirouettes above me.             Fill the places for the moment.             Fill them so they overflow. So there’s a little left once the daylight scratches back out.             Take this and take that and take all. In hands that can hold everything without worry.             So near the light in this black that fingertips can almost touch it.
            Almost.

Pillars of Stories

I have daily ideas. It’s just part of being me and having this profession. A person I meet, I song I hear, a new story I watch, a place I read about—all of these might potentially stir my creative mind.
There are some story ideas that never leave, however. They’re like lost dogs hanging around my front door, sometimes scratching to get in.
I think it might be a good thing to keep them outside for a while. Since I’m in a boat of collaborating on a variety of projects these days, I’m able to hone my craft and also meet interesting people I might have never gotten to know. My mind is always broadened to the big world out there. I’m also able to continue making a living as a writer, which is a blessed thing.
That said, here are some of the mutts that occasionally bark in the middle of the night or that look malnourished and needing to be fed. The stories I still long to write and finish and share with the world.
Stories Already In Progress
The Hinterland Saga--#1: The Howling Wind; #2: Into the Half Light; #3; The Dark Before The Dawn. I’ve already shared some on that story which I’m starting to blog this year.
Midnight—My soul sister to Sky Blue and 40. Perhaps rounding out a trilogy of sorts. A story about a ghost falling in love with another ghost. Very poetic and perhaps my best pure Travis Thrasher voice to date. I have about 30,000 words written on that. 
Story Ideas
Fight Club Idea—I’ve had this idea for years now. I’m wanting to write my version of Fight Club, except making the Tyler Durden character a devout Christian instead of an anarchist.
Heart of Darkness/Apocalypse Now Idea—I’m not sure how much I’ve mentioned about the novel I wrote and finished in 2009 called Persona. I set out to write the most terrifying novel I could for the general market. My agent read it twice and ended up saying this to start with in her review: “I think you lost yourself a bit in this process.” She was right. I ditched that manuscript because it didn’t work, but I’ve always wanted to take the germ of the idea. I have it and have figured out the structure and story. Now to one day have a chance to write it.
Children’s Four-Color Book—This is one I’ve been writing and working on with an illustrator. There’s a recurring thing that’s happened to us as parents with our girls, so I had the idea for a cute book showcasing this. I could see it turning into a series. But children’s books are a tough, crowded market. So it’s one of those “let’s just dream and have fun” sort of ideas.
Pop Culture/Bad Movies/80’s Era Idea—I spent some time years ago working on a “Bad Movies” book idea with a couple of colleagues. That didn’t turn out to be anything, but I still would love to try to do something with it. I have a movie reviewer friend who I’ve been bouncing ideas off. Again, it’s fun to just think and brainstorm. Something could always come out of this.
Future Solitary Tales Books: I want to do more series (yes, series, not books) involving the world I’ve set in motion in The Solitary Tales and The Books of Marvella. But first . . .
Stories Still Needing To Be Published
Awe & Glory, Books #3 & #4 in The Books of Marvella: Still trying to figure out how to publish these. Kickstarter maybe?
My mind is a crowded place. I know that all of these won’t see light of day because more pillars will arrive in place. My goal is to keep walking and figuring out which ones will be built and see the light of day.

One day, my friends. One day God willing.