How Narrative Fiction can Enhance Music, and Vice Versa.

jeremyteg

When I was younger, my parents tried their best to help me develop a musical life. I remember my first piano lesson with my father–around five or six years old, I would guess–and both the excitement preceding it, the first few enthusiastic practice sessions, and the eventual frustration with my parent’s well-meaning encouragement to practice every day, and for longer than five minutes. I was in music lessons–first piano, then violin, then acoustic guitar–until middle school, at which point I took up the bass guitar of my own volition in order to secure a coveted position in the middle school youth group band. In college, I was part of a short-lived “tiny guitar band” with a hall mate, him on the ukulele and me on the mandolin. But after freshman year I had more or less given up on music as a form of expression, shifting my attention instead to…

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