Megan Howell’s story collection Softie introduces a brilliant new literary voice.
Publishers Weekly wrote of the book:
“..a beautiful and striking collection about friendship, secrets, and unspeakable desires.”
In her own words, here is Megan Howell’s Book Notes music playlist for her story collection Softie:
I’m not the type of writer who can have music blaring while finishing a first draft or editing. I need silence. But that doesn’t mean music impedes the creative process for me. The opposite is true; my writing requires it. When I listen to a good song, I treat it like one of my stories and give it my full attention. I often pace around my room with my earphones on, letting my latest playlists stimulate my imagination. Growing up, I used to feel guilty for doing this and nothing else for so many hours. I thought I was wasting time. I didn’t realize that my private ritual was what made the world seem magical and mysterious and worth living in. Now it’s also a major source of inspiration.
Though I wasn’t explicitly thinking about these songs when I first began my collection, their influence is obvious. I can see my characters tapping their feet to their chosen song or going through their day while “Organon” or “All Alone” plays as incidental music. Even the songs I found specifically for this article feel familiar. Maybe those artists and I happened to have the same muse.
“Plage isolée (Soleil levant)” by Polo & Pan: Carla from “Lobes”
“Lobes” takes place in Corsica, France, which is why I chose to pair it with a French song that has beachy imagery. Initially, I went back and forth on this grouping. I thought that it might seem superficial. But setting is much more than just a place. Like my short story, the lyrics of “Plage isolée”—“isolated island” in English—are about feeling lonely in an Edenic paradise. When Carla has to withdraw from her wealthy boarding school and return home to the island, all she can think about is how lost she feels. Without the hope of upward mobility, the beauty of her surroundings serves as just another reminder of all that she’s lost. She might live in a popular vacation spot, but without money or friends, there’s nothing she can do but wish for more.
“Wasted Days and Wasted Nights” by Freddy Fender: Cherish from “The Upstairs People”
Another setting-influenced pairing. Fender was an American Tejano country singer born and raised in Texas. Cherish and her sister are from South Texas and their estranged father Mexico. Both girls have terrible relationships with men, so of course their song is about broken hearts. When I heard “Wasted Days” for the first time on some Spotify playlist—I don’t listen to much country music but knew that if “The Upstairs People” was a movie, the soundtrack would be country as hell—I could feel the anguish in Fender’s voice.
“Organon” by Men I Trust: Cheyenne from “Vacuum Cleaner”
The music video for “Organon” influenced me more than the song, which is still impactful on its own. In it, the band’s singer plays a reinterpretation of the possessed girl from The Exorcist. She’s portrayed as ethereal rather than demonic, floating above her bed, her makeup and hair done. When I first wrote the scene where Cheyenne witnesses Daniel’s transformations, describing the rippling of flesh and the creaking of distended bone, it was pure, ugly body horror. But in my mind, it evolved into something that’s still kind of horrifying but less grotesque. As humans, we all want to go back in time, be reborn, etc. Cheyenne’s terrified when she sees Daniel fulfilling that universal want even though she wants it too subconsciously. To realize something so fantastical, he has to destroy reality itself.
“All Alone” by Mal Waldron: Cherry from “Cherry Banana”
Again, setting was an important factor in my decision: 1950s, big city, midwestern winters, seedy hotel rooms. I knew that the song had to be jazz. I wanted something that was the opposite of “Rhapsody in Blue,” subtle and pensive instead of grandiose. When I was listening to “All Alone,” I could see Cherry staring out the window of a Greyhound bus—the old-fashioned kind with the chrome siding.
“Love is Alive” by Louis the Child, Elohim: Unnamed from “Turtle Soup”
I really struggled searching for a good “Turtle Soup” song. I didn’t want to choose from the handful of generic songs about bullying because the story isn’t didactic, it just revolves around a series of abusive relationships.
I’m not a musicologist, but I’m pretty confident that a good portion of the world’s songs are about love and whether or not it sucks. Usually, they mean romantic love, though sometimes the exact type is left ambiguous. The sad lyrics of “Love is Alive” can apply to any type of attachment, I think: romantic, filial, or platonic. The unnamed protagonist in my story struggles with the last two. Instead of love, she has an abusive “best friend” and a broken home. Like the song, the title of which sounds a lot like “love is a lie,” she expresses the need for a relationship that’s based in care—not necessity and definitely not cruelty. Her lack of success threatens to make her bitter like her mother.
“Human” by Sevdaliza: Tabitha from “Kitty and Tabby”
Another case of me being inspired by a music video, though again, the song is great too. Sevdaliza plays a centaur-woman. She walks out into a ring where a group of well-dressed men, presumably wealthy and powerful, watch her dance provocatively from a lofty balcony. Despite being otherworldly, both the centaur-woman and Kitty heavily rely on men just like a lot of human women (e.g. Tabby and her cousin) do. Though Kitty’s transformation—there’re a lot of weird, magical transformations in my collection—allows her to transcend almost all power structures and even human biology, her gender constrains her. Writing this, I’m starting to wonder if Kitty’s the true protagonist.
- “Set Piece” by Vansire (feat. Sophie Meiers, Ivy Sole): Unnamed from “Bluebeard’s First Wife”
Josh Augustin’s and Sole’s voices are exactly what I imagined the two main characters of “Bluebeard” would sound like. Lachlan would totally be the one to attempt to mend a dying relationship by getting lunch. He’s cordial to the point of being distant and willfully ignorant. His friend, the story’s protagonist, is more candid and emotional. More and more, they talk past each other just like the singers of “Set Piece.”
“I’ll Try Anything Once” by The Strokes: Anne from “Devil’s Juice”
I envision the titular band as being like The Strokes but more punk. The guitarist and love interest looks like a generic pretty boy. Anne, however, still doesn’t have a physical form in my head. I can’t quite pin her down, probably because she’s such a ubiquitous subgenre of woman: average looking, lonely, alternatively victimized and self-victimizing. She could be anyone. When I imagine her listening to a song like “I’ll Try Anything Once” alone in her childhood bedroom, I see her in pieces. Socked feet, a tartan flash of her school uniform. Always a messy bun, her hair sometimes kinky, other times bone-straight and blonde.
“Happy World” by Debbii Dawson: Celeste from “Apples and Dresses”
I’ve been listening to this song on repeat for a while now. It’s super catchy even though the lyrics are sad. I think I’m attracted to depressing songs with upbeat instrumentals. The contrast feels poetic. It elicits that feeling you get when celebrating a major achievement only for your brain to randomly remind you that you’re going to die one day. I wanted “Apples and Dresses” to reflect life’s contrasts. In a way, Celeste gets to live out her dream of being an actress but at the cost of what she holds most dearly.
“The Lady With the Braid” by Dorothy Previn: Melissa from “Melissa, Melissa, Melissa”
I discovered this song randomly a million years ago and have been constantly revisiting it ever since. I was in high school, I think, when I heard it in a fan-made music video for Mad Men that’s still online. Previn addresses an unnamed man who might be her unfaithful ex-husband, inviting him to stay in her home. Her tone is polite but radiates this desperate, clawing need for companionship. It makes me think of Melissa wishing she could bring her family back together under one roof.
“Put Me In a Movie” by Lana del Rey: Meredith from “Anita Garcia-Barnes”
It made sense for me to pair this story with Lana del Rey’s most controversial song. Some fans interpret the speaker of “Put Me In a Movie” as being a child victim of CSAM. I imagine her as a cynical, wizened adult woman who continues to suffer from the consequences of child exploitation. Meredith puts on a similar act for an on-again, off-again boyfriend because of what she faced growing up. She’s mocking him, but also herself.
“Cry of the Unheard” by REPULSIVE: Cleo from “Softie”
Cleo was the hardest character to find a song for. She’s still a heavily abused child by the end of her story, so “Put Me In a Movie” doesn’t work. The extent of her repressed pain is so vast that not even she, the narrator, can fully conceptualize it. It has no language. It sounds like “Cry of the Unheard.” There are no words, no real structure, just cries that die down after a few minutes.
“Mother Big River” by Jessica Pratt: Alda from “Age-Defying Bubble Bath with Tri-Shield Technology”
It’s surprisingly hard to find songs about moms and daughters, probably because the subject’s less glamorous than romance. I think “Mother Big River” works so well for Alda because it captures the messiness of her relationships with her mom as well as her uncertain future. The speaker talks about two mysterious figures, one male and the other female, following them on a journey. These people might be the speaker’s parents. The lyrics’ ambiguity lets my imagination loose. I hear them and think of Alda floating aimlessly through life. She’s searching for a personal journey that will make her forget the fact that her mom is dead.
Megan Howell is a DC-based writer. She earned her MFA in fiction from the University of Maryland in College Park, winning both the Jack Salamanca Thesis Award and the Kwiatek Fellowship. Her work has appeared in McSweeney’s, The Nashville Review and The Establishment among other publications. “Softie: Stories” is her first full-length collection.