I listen to music when I write—quiet, steady songs that help me find the emotional center of a scene. These are the tracks I return to again and again while writing the Radiant novels. They’ve shaped the mood of the mountains, the ache of grief, the flicker of hope, and the quiet moments between my characters.
These are the songs that live inside these stories.
For the Quiet, Heart-Heavy Chapters
For the chapters about belonging and loss, and the people who make a place feel like a life.
A reminder that even the heaviest seasons have an ending, and beginnings tucked inside them.
A sparse, Appalachian ache. Sounds like the drive along the back roads into Radiant.
A hymn for complicated families, the kind held together by grief, grit, and whatever love is left.
For Scenes About Healing
(Or trying to.)
For the soft, wordless moments — a hand on a shoulder, a breath shared in the dark — that do more healing than any apology could.
For the moments when emotion rises right to the surface — when you’re standing at the edge of the water, unsure whether you’ll sink, swim, or be washed clean.
For the moments when the people of Radiant lean toward one another — hesitant, hurting, but still trying. A song that sounds like shared grief turning, slowly, into shared hope.
For the wounds Radiant keeps hidden — the ones time alone can’t touch. A song for slow mending, quiet courage, and the kind of healing that begins long before anyone notices.
A hymn for Radiant’s storms — literal and emotional. The Civil Wars capture that heavy-hearted longing, the quiet plea for mercy when everything feels on the verge of breaking.
A song about pushing away the person who sees you most clearly. Ezra hears this one even if he’d never say so — because letting Jojo in was always harder than pretending he didn’t need him.
A storm-heavy song about the moment before everything shatters. This belongs to Ruby, standing on her porch with the weight of two lifetimes of grief… and to Andy, trying to hold the world together for everyone but himself.
Instrumentals that Carry the Mountains
A slow thaw after a long freeze. The way joy tiptoes back into a life that hasn’t felt soft in a while.
A hymn for all the things we carry: sorrow, remembrance, and the quiet ache of choosing love anyway.
A prayer without words. It reminds me of every moment in Radiant when someone tries—imperfectly, bravely—to choose peace over punishment.
If You Want to Listen Along…
You can find all of these on whatever streaming service you use. I don’t write the same scenes every day, but I return to these songs over and over—they help me find my way back into Radiant when the world feels noisy.
If you enjoy the Radiant stories, maybe these will help you feel a little closer to them, too.
The Radiant Novels
Leave a Reply