In the Book Notes series, authors create and discuss a music playlist that relates in some way to their recently published book.
Previous contributors include Jesmyn Ward, Lauren Groff, Bret Easton Ellis, Celeste Ng, T.C. Boyle, Dana Spiotta, Hanif Abdurraqib, Andrew Sean Greer, Roxane Gay, and many others.
Will Maclean’s Solace House melds a gothic novel with dark academia brilliantly.
Kirkus wrote of the book:
“Maclean proves to be a master at pacing, creating suspense with ease; nothing is predictable in this novel, least of all the shocking conclusion. His characters are beautifully drawn . . . While the mood is both psychedelic and gothic, with unmistakable Lovecraft-ian overtones, it’s very much anchored in the early 1990s, an era Maclean brings to life flawlessly. Brilliantly written and scary as hell, this is a masterwork of horror fiction. Original, mind-bending, terrifying fun.”
In his own words, here is Will Maclean’s Book Notes music playlist for his novel Solace House:
Music is always a huge part of writing for me, and I mostly write with my headphones firmly on. Also, if I’m writing about a particular era, as I have done for both of my books so far, music is vital to accurately capturing the mood of that particular time. I always strive to listen to the music that people were actually listening to then, rather than the music popular memory insists we were all listening to. They’re usually two very different things.
And so, the music I listened to as I wrote my novel Solace House falls into two distinct camps: Music from 1993 and thereabouts, which sums up that time, and music that isn’t from 1993, but I love, and listen to as I write, or as part of my whole being-at-my-desk ritual. I’ve presented that mix of music here.
Solace House is narrated by Alex Lane, a first-year student who can’t go home for various reasons, and so finds himself spending his summer with a bunch of other students as they clear out some properties bought by the university, with the intention of turning them into halls of residence, which is where they discover Solace House and its many secrets.
Solace House is probably best described as a horror story, but if it is, I like to think of it as the kind of horror story that doesn’t stay on the tracks, veering off into other areas – mystery, nostalgia, the esoteric, the deep past, the far future, neolithic monuments, um, the band Queen – all with a side order of magic mushrooms. You’ll see what I mean when you read it.
Jennie – “Like Jennie” (2025)
To start writing, I listen to something that’s current, exciting and as NOW as you can get, as it jolts me awake and makes me feel connected to the rest of the world. Currently, it’s this. In a month’s time it’ll be something else. I unashamedly love unserious, energetic pop music, and I always have. Don’t bore us, take us to the chorus. Haha! Magic.
The Orb – “Backside Of The Moon (Under Water Deep Space)” (1991)
As Solace House is set in a very specific time period, I needed music from the time that would transport me – and the reader – right back there. The sound of The Orb saturates the first third of Solace House, very much as it saturated that time – If you went out at all during the first few years of the 90s in the UK, you would hear The Orb – in clubs, at parties in people’s houses, at festivals. Clive, the post-grad stoner in Solace House, listens to The Orb constantly. Perhaps uniquely for this kind of thing, The Orb’s music isn’t turgid or boring – their stuff was always strange and playful and incredibly enjoyable. The album this track originates from – Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld – has that fusion of space travel, Englishness, and otherworldly vibes which perfectly encapsulates that era. It was perfect for that time, and perfect for Solace House.
The KLF – “Wichita Lineman Was a Song I Once Heard” (1990)
Another absolutely foundational record from the early 1990s is Chill Out by The KLF. As The KLF often made tongue-in-cheek music, I don’t think people quite appreciated the level of thought and heart and soul they put into things until they were no longer a going concern. Emblematic of all that effort is Chill Out, an album designed for ravers to listen to as they found themselves marooned in rural England after an illegal rave, coming down from whatever drugs they’d taken the night before, surrounded by sheep. It was released in 1990, but I remember that by summer 1993 it seemed everyone had a copy. It’s synonymous with that time in my head.
Ultramarine – “Weird Gear” (1992)
Ultramarine’s first album – Every Man and Woman is a Star – is also synonymous with summer 1993 for me, as my friends played this endlessly. I could have chosen just about any track on this album, but this one is particularly lovely – a spare, naked, beautiful little tune, sung by a man, too, which was a very early 90s thing – men making themselves vulnerable and opening up a bit, exploring their sensitive side. Sadly, that was not to last. All of the above three tracks appear on a fictional mixtape I made for Clive, one of the main characters in the book. I like to do that sort of thing for characters, if it’s important to them – it helps to colour their inner lives. This is especially important in stories which deal with dark subjects, I feel – if something bad happens to the characters the reader has to feel that bad thing too, as much as possible, so I really like to make the characters as vivid and rich as possible. That way you miss them when they aren’t there anymore.
Woob – “Later” (1995)
This is a fantastic ambient track that I use when I’m either stuck or I really need to concentrate. It’s a great, great piece of music, and like all the best music, it’s a different mood every time you hear it. Sometimes it sounds desperate and painfully sad, other times it sounds purposeful and driven and determined, like an unsettled spirit. It’s timeless. Paul Frankland, AKA Woob, is one of my favourite artists of all time, I think, and nowhere near as widely known as he should be.
Pye Corner Audio – “Stars Shine Like Eyes” (2016)
This track squarely hits a mood I often find myself looking for – the sound of something from a half-remembered past that’s still vital and unresolved. It sounds like something from the soundtrack to a mid-1970s BBC drama about the paranormal – clearly what they were going for, let’s be honest – and there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s a propulsive sense of drama to it, like something significant is unfolding. I listen to this sparingly as I don’t want to diminish its charge. This is on the Ghost Box label, who specialize in this kind of hauntological eeriness.
C-Land – “Gone with the Wind” (2021)
This whole album is just great, but this track is my favourite. I love that people are still making fascinating, atmospheric music which takes you to a place you didn’t know you wanted to go, despite people telling us over and over that this doesn’t happen anymore. I’d argue that it happens now more than it ever used to. Contactee’s Journal is SUCH a great album title, too – a short story in two words. Despite setting two novels (to date!) in the past, I find nostalgia quite suffocating, weirdly, so I’m constantly looking for current, contemporary music I can write to. I love this.
Burial – “Beachfires” (2017)
This is a track like nothing else on earth – a wholly negative space of grey ash, jet-black shadow and absolute absence. A friend of mine said it’s like listening to the end of the world and I can’t really argue with that. I listened to this a lot as I put together the second half of the book, as it has such a disturbing tone, such a sense of tangible threat, but it’s simultaneously so abstract. It sounds like the ultimate state of something.
Queen – “The Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke” (1974)
Here we have a track that’s integral to the book, one which the characters discuss and refer to. I was delighted, halfway through writing Solace House, to remember that Queen had done this track, as it was exactly what I was looking for, just absolutely perfect for my purposes within the text. Most of the lyrics are cribbed from the very long poem called “Elimination of a Picture” which Dadd wrote to accompany his painting – the same poem that was a distinct influence on Edwin Flayne’s poetry within the book – and it’s clearly a poem Freddy loved. I also love how absolutely bonkers this track is, how unashamedly artsy and absurd. Freddy Mercury was one of those people who just seemed to enjoy everything life had to offer, and here he is, enjoying Richard Dadd.
Charli XCX – “365” (2024)
This is just a proper banger, especially about one and half minutes in when it Just Absolutely Fucking Goes Off In Your Face. I loved brat, and I find Charli XCX really interesting as an artist. I liked that the whole brat project preserved that spirit of rave and dance which was so key to my formative years. Writing-wise, this – and tracks like it – are a handy defibrillator for when I find myself in a slump. You are overthinking things. Get out of your own way.
Half Man Half Biscuit – “Horror Clowns are Dickheads” (2025)
HMHB are a British institution, and they’re from the Wirral, where I’m from, so I first became aware of them at school, as they were (and still are) local heroes. They’ve morphed over time into a unique sort of 21st century folk outfit, and their songs are usually a whimsical scourge against pretension, badly-thought-out art, and life’s many timewasters. Their targets are wide-ranging and deserved, and here they have a pop at contrived Scary Clowns, in their trademark way, which marries highbrow and lowbrow commentary, and is always hilarious. I love them and I always have. Tracks like this are a huge palate cleanser at the end of a working day, when you start to take yourself too seriously.
Lady Gaga – “Government Hooker” (2011)
Another palate cleanser for the end of a day. For me, there have only ever been two top-tier pop stars – Marc Bolan and Lady Gaga – and I love Gaga so much. She’s the antidote to unexceptional pop music, and she dresses like a pansexual cyborg chandelier from another dimension, which is precisely what I want from a pop star. And the music’s great too.
Will Maclean is a screenwriter whose first novel, The Apparition Phase, was shortlisted for The McKitterick Prize. Solace House is his American debut. He lives in London with his wife and daughter.