Songwriting Without Boundaries (37 page)
Read Songwriting Without Boundaries Online
Authors: Pat Pattison
STAN SWINIARSKI
Cheating lover →
Dangerous situation
→
Target idea:
Kids playing with a loaded gun
Kids playing with a loaded gun are like cheating lovers.
It’s the thing Dad said you should never touch, which makes it all the more desirable. The hunt for the key. unlocking the case. The ecstasy of feeling the cool black metal in your hand for the first time—the power contained in the single action which can end with a deafening crack, the acrid odor and lingering evidence on your fingers. The secret sharing with a fellow disobeyer, both relishing the excitement of risking getting caught, not considering the damage to be done. Taking turns playacting like some reckless John Wayne from an old movie. Aiming the gun. One false move, and somebody gets it. The thrill of being so close to doing it.
Lovely, the seductive power of what is forbidden, through the sponsorship of
dangerous situation.
Words like
desirable, ecstasy, secret sharing, relishing the excitement,
and
thrill
bring the family members together and, at least for me, create the excitement I felt as a kid looking at that locked closet.
Lovers cheating are kids playing with a loaded gun.
You thought I wouldn’t notice the key on the dresser, the empty box in the nightstand. You and he playing Russian roulette, taking aim at my chest with each whisper, each smile, and touch. My heart beating like a drumroll, building to the point where it might explode with a single shot, spraying any warmth I might have had left all over the both of you. Anger and confusion are fighting for attention as I watch the excitement in your eyes while you play with forbidden toys, feeling satisfied that I could never figure it out, while my eyes fix on you like a laser scope aimed at a deserving target.
Nice use here of the gun family: “Russian roulette,” “taking aim at my chest,” “explode with a single shot,” “forbidden toys,” “laser scope aimed at a deserving target.”
The linking quality takes Stan on a productive trip in both directions.
Cheating lover →
dangerous situation
→ Target idea:
Smoking crack
Smoking crack is like having a cheating lover.
One time, what could it hurt? A smoky room, it would soften the moment, the haze would rush around me like warm bath water. I never thought it would be a good thing, I was just curious. Right now, I’m free, living in the thought of it, the thought of it is just a dream, a dream that I can blink away, shake off like rain on my coat. But seeing it, seeing it is a pair of handcuffs, knowledge with no key, a thought tattoo. I open my eyes and breath, I am lost in the flush, I can’t believe the rush of what I’m seeing. The smoky grip, the electric hand, squeezing my throat, rushing through my veins like a man punching his fist down each artery. I am breathless and numb as I now know what this is like. It’s been here for years waiting, the potential of knowing, then the knowing, like running through fire, the blaze looked so interesting, then the sizzle of skin, the thing I can now not know, the little rocks as they burned and crackled, weaving heat together with no thought of who would see them. They danced, heated and merged and they will leave you like a cl …
Hot spots: “seeing it is a pair of handcuffs,” “knowledge with no key,” “a thought tattoo,” “the blaze looked so interesting, then the sizzle of skin.”
Having a cheating lover is like smoking crack.
It’s something you say you’ll only do once: the rush of driving past his house to see the silhouettes twisting like curling smoke. It’s a lighting and adrenaline surging through you when you see it, a set of footprints that turns into a worn path, OCD of the heart, checking the locks, the stove, hiding in bushes, ducking behind trees, checking e-mail, it’s a thought that thinks you, the dripping faucet that won’t let you sleep, again and again and again, you don’t want to see them, but you can’t stay away, it’s the accident on the freeway, your eyes burn but still, you look, the horror movie, you want to look away but you are rendered motionless, you are no longer yourself, your sanity is a stringed puppet. They are the smoke in your lungs, they are now needles in your heart, there is a thrill in watching them, there is a death that you die every time and yet you can’t stop because if you do, it will be done, the smoke will rise and vanish, you will take what you can, touching the bottom of cloud fingers, reaching up to the hem of the ghost of what is still recognizable. It leaves you …
Watch Scarlet stack metaphor on metaphor. Underline them. A compelling picture of the power of suspicion and jealousy.
Your turn. Using
dangerous situation
as your linking quality, find your target idea and take ten minutes to explore it through the lens of
cheating lover.
Now reverse it and explore
cheating lover
through the lens of your target idea for ten minutes.
DAY #8
FINDING LINKING QUALITIES: WORKING ONE DIRECTION
Prompt: Magnifying Glass
Today you’re on your own to find your own linking qualities before you find your target ideas. Today, you’ll only move in one direction, exploring your target idea through the lens of
magnifying glass.
After a few days, you’ll reverse directions, too.
Now, try this. First, find three interesting qualities (linking qualities) for
magnifying glass.
Magnifying glass → Linking quality 1:___________
Magnifying glass → Linking quality 2:___________
Magnifying glass → Linking quality 3:___________
Now supply the target idea for each of them.
Magnifying glass → Linking quality 1:________ →
Target idea 1: _________
Magnifying glass → Linking quality 2:_______ →
Target idea 2: __________
Magnifying glass → Linking quality 3:________ →
Target idea 3: _________
Okay, use your first linking quality to find a target idea. Then take ten minutes to explore your target idea through the lens of
magnifying glass.
Magnifying glass → Linking quality:
Starting a fire by focusing sunlight
→ Target idea:
Bully
A bully is a magnifying glass.
From a distance with the daylight shining on you, you’re just like any other dorky kid around here. But I’ve got a way with light. I can shine it on you, find the one thing about you that you hate so much, that makes you different than the other dweebs. I can focus it with pinpoint accuracy on that singular place on you until I see the smoke, feel the heat rising and watch you squirm, all but bursting into flames with embarrassment. Your tears will be like gasoline, they won’t put out the flames. And all the other kids will look on with morbid fascination, because what kid doesn’t enjoy a good fire? And maybe a few will even join in on the laughter, proving that I am cooler, more popular, and powerful.
Starting a fire by focusing sunlight
is something most people associate with a magnifying glass—an essential quality. It leads Stan to
bully,
and he takes an interesting look at it from the bully’s point of view. As usual, a fine group of
magnifying glass
’s family shows up for the fun. The poor kid doesn’t have a chance with all that heat.
Now use your own first linking quality to locate a target idea and take ten minutes exploring your target idea through the lens of
magnifying glass.
Magnifying glass → Linking quality 1:_______ → Target idea 1: _______
Magnifying glass →
gets you up close and personal with the object of your desire
→ Target idea:
strip club
A strip club is a magnifying glass.
The customers hold mugs of beer and lean crooked in their seats at the edge of the small stage, they’re glaring at Destiny, the dancer on the 3 a.m. shift. The club, once glittering and clean, is now scuffed at the seams and dingy, the fake black-brown leather of the overstuffed bench seats tearing at their overworn corners. Too many fat middle-aged asses sitting here and ogling, peering at the dancers with drooling eyes, hungry hearts, desperate bodies. No matter the layered cake of makeup, no matter the sparkle of that sequined bikini, the flash of hundred dollar bills, the clitter clatter of somebody’s last quarters thrown onto the floor like a hopeful toss of the dice, no matter the fake names and pocketed wedding rings, the deep truth of it all shows through. The lights flash, the disco ball blushes, nobody can hide here because there’s no pretending you’re here for something else, nobody goes into a strip club by accident, nobody ends up dancing on a stage in a thong bikini as a mistake—the brutal reality of the moment is all right here, inside the thump thump of raunchy music, in every swirl of hip and shake of tit, in every lean forward and stuff a dollar bill in a bra strap, in every backroom champagne party there is the fact of humanity looming large.