What is your musical obsession for today?

Have you ever had a song stuck in your head that you kept playing on repeat—or one you can listen to endlessly without getting bored? Maybe you’re reading this with lo-fi beats in the background. Maybe silence is your tune.

But think about it—music has this strange power: it can turn even the most ordinary moment into part of a story.

For me, music is essential when I write. I spend hours digging through songs and bands until I find something that just clicks. And once it does, I loop it over and over. As I listen, the story starts unfolding in my mind: a scene sharpens, characters move, the screen lights up, and suddenly the tale burns bright.

The oldest song that sparks stories

Long before streaming platforms, vinyl records, or even bards with lutes, music was already shaping human stories. One of the oldest surviving songs we know of is the Hurrian Hymn No. 6, dating back more than 3,000 years (around 1400 BCE).

It was discovered on a clay tablet in the ancient city of Ugarit, written in cuneiform. The hymn is dedicated to the goddess Nikkal, protector of orchards and fertility. What’s fascinating is that even after millennia, when modern musicians play it, it feels strangely familiar—recognizable as music, alive with rhythm and melody.

Think about that for a second: a song written thousands of years ago can still move us today. Its story isn’t told in words we all understand, but in feeling—a universal language that stretches across time.

How music tells stories without words

Music doesn’t need dialogue to tell a story. A rising melody builds anticipation. A sudden silence leaves us hanging in suspense. A steady rhythm grounds us, while a soaring note lifts us into triumph.

The Hurrian Hymn might once have been a prayer, a ritual, or simply a shared moment of beauty—but like every piece of music since, it carried meaning beyond words. That’s why a single piece of music can feel deeply personal while also being completely universal.

From cave chants to symphonies, from film scores to the playlists we build today, music shapes the story of our experiences.

Practice it with ink

One of my favorite practices is keeping a small “music journal.” Whenever I’m listening to music and a scene or idea sparks, I jot it down. It doesn’t have to be fantasy or fiction—it could be a game mechanic for a TTRPG, a concept for an article, or even a vivid snapshot of an everyday moment.

If a particular song really resonates with me, I take it further:

• I note the track and the mood it creates.
• I play with it—imagining it slowed down, sped up, or layered.
• I treat it as a melodic palette, a tonal guide that sets the atmosphere for a story.

Even if you never directly use music in your writing, letting it shape your imagination can breathe life into your work. Some of my most refreshing story ideas have grown from those quick notes inspired by a single song.

Music doesn’t just accompany our lives—it reframes them, giving even ordinary moments the weight of a story.

Takeaway

Stories don’t always need words. Music tells stories through rhythm, sound, and silence—turning everyday life into a soundtrack worth remembering. From the Hurrian Hymn to your headphones today, it’s the same timeless truth: we live through stories of sound.