Frankie Barnet’s novel Mood Swings is the most propulsive novel I have read all year, a wholly original debut that dazzles from its first page to the last.
The New York Times wrote of the book:
“Mood Swings is a master class in maximalism . . . The magic here is in the prose. Though the story itself is sprawling, Barnet’s writing is restrained and intentional. Moments that could turn saccharine are made meaningful by astute, almost insulting observations.”
In her own words, here is Frankie Barnet’s Book Notes music playlist for her debut novel Mood Swings:
Music is by no means my favorite topic of conversation. If I’m at a friend’s house and someone asks me to put on the next song on their iPhone, I’ll probably make an excuse to use the bathroom. But there’s a line in my book Mood Swings (please let this be the first and only time I ever quote myself) that goes, “[Jenlena] thought that the worst part about being dead was that you would never again be three drinks deep listening to a song you really liked. Apart from that, it did not seem unreasonable.’’ The book is not an autobiography but I meant that from the heart.
I like to work in a trance. Anything good that happens in my writing is purely accidental and the harder I try to be smart, funny, or even just coherent, the more of a mess it all becomes. It’s like that old metaphor I first heard on Dr. Phil about how you’re not supposed to clasp too tightly onto a wet bar of soap. In that case I think he was talking about a marriage but maybe writing a novel isn’t so different. There are plenty of ups and downs, saying what you don’t exactly mean, and on the worst days all you can do is push through because to jump ship is out of the question.
Here are some of the songs that helped me slip out of my obtuse consciousness while I worked on Mood Swings:
Lofi hip hop radio- beats to relax/study to
Is this too embarrassing? Putting on this Youtube stream turns me into Pavlov’s dog. I skip the ad, put my head down, and get to work.
“When it’s Cold Outside I’d Like to Die,” Moby
I have never fully understood who or what Moby is but I love this song. There was a long stretch of working on Mood Swings where I listened to it on repeat, hoping that the eerie, mysterious qualities of the song would seep into my writing. It formed a sort of cocoon that I could crawl inside of to visit my characters. They told me their ideas (silly, radical, cynical, and earnest) about the world and I wrote it all down.
“Drinkin’ Problem,” Midland
People say I’ve got a drinkin’ problem/ but I ain’t got no problem drinkin’ at all. This was me before I got pregnant and had a baby. I think that it’s always good to have something fun on rotation to remind yourself not to take things so seriously. Plus, I’ll never forget the first time I ever heard this song when my friend Caroline and her fiance Connor performed an impromptu karaoke duet. The whole room was mesmerized by their raw charisma, something we’d all be lucky to capture in our art.
“Voila,” Francoise Hardy
I wrote a lot of Mood Swings while I was taking full-time French classes here in Montreal. Though I retained very little, I treasure these memories. There was something so wonderful about a bunch of adults from all over the world sitting at desks and conversing with the vocabulary of toddlers. The more we learned, the more I felt as if we were approaching the language from the outside in, something I’ll never get the chance to do with English. I thought about the structure of the language like a real, physical thing. Words were like building blocks, and no one word could exist on its own. Something clicked in me that I’m still struggling to articulate–I understood on a new level why all I’d ever wanted to do was read and write books. Anyways, “Voila” was one of the songs I used to listen to on the way to school.
“O Holy Night,”Etta James
Who knew Christmas could be so sad? Well, probably a lot of us. I first heard this song during one of two pandemic christmases my husband and I spent alone in Montreal, celebrations not unlike the holiday my main characters share in Mood Swings. There is something so tender about Christmas. At best it is a soft day meant for doing quiet things.
“Blue Bannisters,” Lana Del Rey
I’ll always remember where I was when I first heard this song: hungover, the morning after a fight with my husband during which I stormed out of our friend’s apartment to break the government mandated pandemic-era curfew and risk a $1000 fine. This rebellious act imbued me with the recklessness and luxurious ache of a Lana heroine. Like every one of her songs I’ve come to adore, I wasn’t quite sure what she was getting at first. “Paint my bannisters?” What is she talking about? It takes a listen or two for the song to really sink its teeth into you but once it does, you’re hooked. I’ll never forget reading through the comments on the Youtube video and seeing people in real time from all over the world experiencing the songs just as I was, a sort of sacred communion. At 33 years old and in this economy I know I should know better than to adore a celebrity, but perhaps some things can’t be helped. She is the Bob Dylan of our time.
Frankie Barnet is the author of a story collection, An Indoor Kind of Girl, and the forthcoming graphic literary novel Kim: A Novel Idea, both from Metatron Press in Canada. Her fiction has been published in places such as Joyland, Event Magazine, PRISM International, Washington Square Review, and the Best Canadian Stories anthology of both 2016 and 2019. She has an MFA from Syracuse University and lives in Montréal.