I love pop music, especially old pop music.  All of you folks who are into what's lofty and intellectual, hip and happenin', critically approved classic rock, avant garde or WHATEVER, get ready to roll your eyes and sneer.  "Heartbeat - It's a Lovebeat" by The DeFranco Family is playing on my Itunes as I write this.  Oh dear!  I'm sorry.  I should have warned you to sit down first, right?  Glass of water for the blog reader over here!

 

People have been jeering at my taste in music for as long as I can remember.  I've gotten used to it, and while it bothered me when I was younger, I find I don't really care anymore.  Here's a few words of comfort for the very young:  At some point you reach an age when you learn to embrace what you love and what satisfies your soul; happily, you no longer give a rat's ass what anyone has to say about it.  

 

As an avid reader and writer, I sometimes find my obsession with pop music a bit of a problem.  I simply can't imagine a story without a soundtrack.  To me, stories and pop music go hand in hand.  Considering I spent most of my adult life as a radio disc jockey who wanted to write stories, this makes sense.  I've encountered a few novelists over the years who seem to feel the same way:  Stephen King, Bobbie Ann Mason, and Joyce Maynard to name three.  In fact it was Stephen King who clued me in to Bobbie Ann Mason's definition of rock and roll:  happy music about sad stuff.  

 

Still, a reviewer of The Handyman's Dream commented that my constant musical references came close to interferring with the story, and he may have a point.  My wonderful line editor for The Handyman's Dream found herself constantly flipping from the editing window on her computer to Itunes so she could hear the songs I was writing about.  I was overjoyed when she told me that, but I can see where that could be a genuine hassle when a reader is relaxing on the sofa with a book.  I have to remember that the rest of the world doesn't have my 45 collection, or even an Itunes account. 

 

I've found that Lisa, my editor, is the exception to the rule, and for that I'm actually grateful.  I'd hate to think I was somehow distracting readers from Ed and Rick's story with the music.  For those, though, who savor 60's, 70's and 80's pop music as much as do, I've done my best to share the music with you via Itunes.  There are two --count 'em, two -- Imixes on Itunes for The Handyman's Dream.  I originally did a huge one featuring what I felt were the most important songs from the story (excluding the ones unavailable on Itunes), and then decided to add one featuring the Christmas songs from chapter thirteen.  Considering my enjoyment of silly love songs (thank you, Paul McCartney), it should come as no surprise that I'm a sentimental slob about Christmas as well. 

 

I achieved a goal in radio when I was promoted to Music Director of WAJI in Fort Wayne.  I loved scheduling music, and my only regret is that I didn't have much say-so in WHAT I was scheduling.  A red-headed twerp of a consultant from Cleveland (Daniel, I'm talking about you, you digit-obsessed, emotionless freak) made my life a living hell in that regard.  I was damn good at it though, even with the myriad restrictions.  I know because I was told so often enough to make me believe it. 

 

So even though I'm achieving my first dream of writing and publishing my own stories, I miss putting music together.  Although I love and will never part with my vinyl, I am very grateful for the technology that allows me to share my favorite songs via the Internet. While I continue to work on the next book --and the music selections for it - I've created two new Imixes on Itunes.  If you have Itunes on your computer, check 'em out:  "Nick Poff:  10 Beat-up 45's from the 60's," and "Nick Poff:  10 from the 70's."  You can access them at Itunes by clicking on Imix in the Music Store, then typing Nick Poff into the search box.  Or if you want to know about the songs from The Handyman's Dream, type the book's title into the search box to see those Imixes. 

 

Each and every song from all four of my posted Imixes are from the soundtrack of my life, and I hope I've stumbled onto a song (or songs) that means something to you as well. I hope you'll feel free to email me and tell me about your favorite pop songs as well.  Don't be afraid to admit you love a song the rest of the world supposedly hates.  Hell, I even love "MacArthur Park" by Richard Harris! 

 

One critically-approved artist I enjoy is Bruce Springsteen.  Seeing him do "Born To Run" in concert back in '92 is a moment I'll never forget.  I wish I had his talent for telling the whole story in a four minute song.  Until I figure out how to do that, I'll keep writing stories and adding other people's music to them.   

 

I know I've touched people with my stories, and I know I've touched them with my music mixes.  I can only hope the combination of the two has touched people as well. 

 

PS:  Probably the most obscure song I included in The Handyman's Dream was "Things I'd Like To Say" by New Colony Six.  It hit #16 on the Top 40 Chart in early 1969.  In 1988, when I was working for an Oldies radio station that played everything from the mid-fifties through the seventies, a listener called in and requested it.  I wasn't familiar with the song, but I found a 45 copy of it in our stacks and threw it on the air for him.  I'd like to belatedly thank that man for introducing me to one of the saddest, most hauntingly-beautiful pop songs I've ever heard.  I acquired a 45 of my own shortly after that, and have played it repeatedly over the years.  It's not on Itunes, and it was only after I included it in The Handyman's Dream that I finally managed to find it on CD.  I dumped it into my computer, and it's currently my second most-played song, right behind "Speed Of Sound" by Coldplay.  It's one of those songs I wanted to share with the rest of the world, and if you wanna hear it, let me know.  I'll send you an MP3!     

 

 

Here it is, the unofficial beginning of this year's long July 4th weekend.  Okay, Monday isn't a holiday, but I know plenty of folks who have it off or are taking it off to have four days of uninterrupted recreation.  Regular business activities seem to be pretty much on hold until Wednesday, July 5th.  When people have asked over the past week or so what I have planned for the 4th, I've replied, "working."

 

No, I'm not busy with a manuscript. I will be strapping on the headphones in the on-air studio.  I'm covering for several jocks on vacation through Tuesday.  It amazes me that people are still surprised by that, and that I still have to remind them that radio stations don't go off the air for the holidays.  In this 24/7 society we've created, lots and lots of folks will be working hard the next four days.    It's not that big a deal for me.  Our radio station has participated in the local July 4th fireworks celebration for many years, and frankly, I couldn't tell you the last time I didn't work on Independence Day. 

 

What bothers me is that supposedly I shouldn't admit it.  I've been told repeatedly in the last year that since I'm now a published novelist, I shouldn't admit to readers or the public in general that I still do some other kind of job to pick up some extra money.  Well, why the hell not?  Granted, it would be great if I was earning pin money doing a column for Entertainment Weekly as Stephen King does,or toiling on the lecture circuit like Barbara Ehrenreich.  If I had William Mann's patience and backround, I suppose I could facilitate writer's workshops.  (Hey, Bill, thanks again!  Probably wouldn't be writing this if it weren't for that weekend on Cape Cod.) 

 

Just about everyone I know, or know of, takes on additional work to supplement their income.  The fact that I'm working as a radio disc jockey, or occasionally writing commercial scripts from home, doesn't seem so shameful to me, and I don't see why it should take away from the whole "writer's mystique."  Elsewhere on this website I comment that it's a sad but true fact that most writers have to take on additional work to supplement their incomes, and even if I was moonlighting in cheap porn movies, I'd admit it.  Hell, that would probably just increase book sales! 

 

I was raised to accept responsibility, and respect the value of hard work and the dollars they bring.  21st century life is expensive, and you gotta do what you gotta do to cover the bills, right? 

 

So, if any potential reader of The Handyman's Dream is appalled to know its author will spend the holiday weekend repeatedly playing KT Tunstall, The Goo Goo Dolls, The Fray, etc. instead of relaxing waterside, thinking prose-y thoughts about lightning bugs and the mid-summer heat, or reflecting on America's Independence, my apologies.  

 

I've always been curious to know what my favorite writers do when they're not writing, so if anyone knows what Stephen McCauley, Anne Tyler, or Bill Bryson are up to this weekend, let me know.  Betcha none of them will be sitting in a comfortable radio studio, jamming out to "Kryptonite," and reporting on holiday traffic jams instead of experiencing them.  It's not a bad gig at all, and if I've failed the "writer's mystique" I still have the "radio rock god" one to fall back on.