Do certain sounds help you write better? Are you more creative when listening to music, nature sounds, background talking, or silence?
Science
A Substack article by author Ines Johnson sparked the idea for this blogpost. In that article, she mentioned scientific studies of the subject, and summarized them like this:
- If not too loud, ambient noise can help your creativity.
- To help you focus, choose instrumental music, not lyrical (singing) music.
- Couple your writing habit with a particular background sound.
- Consider binaural beats and subliminal sound. Binaural refers to playing one tone in your right ear and a different one in your left.
Posts by Anthony D. Fredericks at Psychology Today, Brain Health University George at Reality Pathing, Nested Magazine, and Dr. Tchiki Davis point to similar conclusions.
One Writer’s Preference
Author Ines Johnson prefers to write to the sound of other people talking in hushed tones—murmuring. Back when she was a single mom, it comforted her to hear her kids playing in an agreeable manner. Silence meant trouble. These days, Ms. Johnson sometimes uses an app that simulates the low-volume babble of a coffee shop, and other times uses subliminal audio tracks.
My Preference
I’d prefer not to have a preference at all. I wish to write wherever I am, wherever I find time, no matter the background noise. This includes writing in a doctor’s or dentist’s office, riding as a passenger in a car, etc. Sometimes I write outside with the background sounds of nature. Other times, I write inside, in silence or with the faint sounds of a TV in another room.
Experimentation
Ms. Johnson advises writers to experiment to find the background sound most conducive to their creativity. I understand the value of that approach and agree it would help the majority of writers.
Further, I think writers may find one type of background noise works best for the frantic, free-flow of first drafts, while another type works for the detailed, precise concentration of the editing phase.
Non-Experimentation
However, I don’t think that’s for me. Suppose, after completing the experiment, I discovered, say, jazz music worked best. I won’t always be in a place where I can listen to jazz. In a sub-optimal noise environment, I’d be worried my writing would suffer, that it would turn out worse than it could be.
After years of taking the noises life gives me, I think my brain prefers the chaos of variety, of random unpredictability.
Quiet noise, music, or silence—they’re all okay for—
Poseidon’s Scribe