By Annalisa Parent www.annalisaparent.com
A picture I drew as a child of my French boyfriend fantasy; you can see why writing was a better artistic pursuit for me than sketch artist.
In one of the chapters of my life, I lived in Paris. My French boyfriend, like most twenty-year-old men, was an aspiring rock musician.
I recall one day working with him on song writing; I was encouraging him to write the music to sound like the feeling of the lyrics he’d written. He nodded, and then played some Metallica or Nirvana riffs.
Well, we were a failure at writing songs together and much better at kissing in the rain—but my ideas on the musicality of prose haven’t changed.