Oh, Writing. How You Sing.

I studied piano, trombone and singing as a child. Mom insisted. Despite her encouragement, I became only a minimally competent amateur.

But oh, my did music sculpt my writing. Because practice opened me to “hearing” music in words, sentences, paragraphs and punctuation – the scaffolding of writing.

Like music, writing has rhythm. We feel it in the cadence of syllables as they form words and then sentences across finished text. We hear it in word choice and placement, in sentence and paragraph length, in repetition, pauses and stops.

Words themselves may lope or punch or whizz or swoosh. Hear them now: whisper, hiccup, gumption, caresses, bobblehead, serendipitous, tiramisu, smudge, plunk. So many words – and each, whatever its meaning, with unique rhythm and sound.

Sentences, too, can glide like hot caramel on ice cream or rasp like a dry cough, as our storytelling requires.

Writing even has pitches. Not absolute pitches as in music. Relative pitches, as heard in spoken language. Pitches inflect writing, too – if we listen.

Content counts, of course. But it’s best when served with music. Let writing sing.