Barbara Linn Probst

Barbara Linn Probst: I’ve embraced many sides of life. I’ve been a teacher, therapist, qualitative researcher, educational advocate, "serious amateur" pianist, and full-time mom. I’ve run a not-for-profit organization, mentored PhD students, counseled families, done webinars and radio interviews on how to nurture out-of-the-box children, and much more!

I’ve had many homes. I’ve lived in a cabin in the California redwoods, a firehouse, a converted sauna in the heart of Greenwich Village—and lots of places in-between. I now live on a historic dirt road in New York’s Hudson Valley.

I’ve looked and listened. I’ve traveled from Iceland to Israel, Scotland to Spain. I’ve spent time in Italy, Egypt, Costa Rica, Turkey, France, and along the backpacking trails of the U.S. and Canada.

I’ve spoken up. I’ve given talks to dozens of parent groups, professional organizations, and academic conferences all over the country.

Through all of it, I’ve never stopped writing.

Instagram: @Barbara_Linn_Probst

What’s the difference between being a writer and an author? How do you shift gears between the two?

I love this question because it’s something I think about a lot! When I’m working on a novel—whether it’s that early enchanted stage when I’m discovering a story for the first time, or the later meticulous stage of editing a nearly-polished manuscript—I’m a writer. The story is my purpose, my guide. I’m there to serve it, and I’m completely immersed in the process of creation.

But when it comes time to promote a finished book, I shift from writer to author, someone who wants to make people aware of what she’s already created. The two experiences are entirely different—for me, anyway. They call on different parts of myself and feel as if they take place at different tempos, so I can’t do both at the same time.  For me, the “shifting of gears” takes place over a longer interval—a stretch of days or an entire week—and it can take a while to fully make that switch.

Do you have another artistic outlet in addition to your writing?

I do!  I’m what they call a “serious amateur pianist”—which means that I study piano seriously, with a teacher, but purely for the love (amour) of the experience. 

A deep study of music is tremendously worthwhile, just for its own sake, but it has an extra benefit for me as a writer because it allows me to dwell in a focused, creative space that’s not dependent on words.  That shift into another realm allows me to return to my writing with a renewed, cleansed, receptive attention that is so, so valuable. 

Is there a genre of music that influences your writing/thinking? Do you listen to music while you write?

This is a perfect question for me, because The Sound Between the Notes is framed around music and told through the unique perspective of a musician.  There’s a lot of music in the book, both country and classical. The most important piece is probably the Schubert piano sonata that bookends the story, from audition to concert—with twists, obstacles, and escalating stakes in-between. While the sonata as a whole is too hard for me, I set myself the goal of learning the transcendent, heartbreaking second movement. I felt as if I owed it to my protagonist!  And I did!

While I was writing The Sound Between the Notes, I listened to the sonata many, many times because I needed to know it well as I could. But not while I was writing, literally.  I need silence when I write. Silence, solitude, the pristine emptiness of my glass-topped desk.  No clutter, so I can let myself become wholly immersed in the story world.

Music was something I kept returning to, as I worked on the book—not only the classical pieces, but the country ones too, from Ring of Fire to Long, Long Time to You Were Always on My Mind. It was a way of getting close to the different characters.

Is there another profession you would like to try?

I’ll begin by saying that I’ve already had many other professions over the years!  I’ve taught elementary school and college; I’ve been a researcher, therapist, director of an urban nonprofit, and advocate for over-diagnosed kids; I’ve run parenting groups, published scholarly articles, and been a fulltime mom.  What have I not yet tried, but always longed to?  Apart from astronomer and ballerina (my childhood aspirations), one job I would still love to try—that seems reasonably possible—is travel writer. 

I love to travel; before the pandemic, that was one of my favorite things to do. I’ve been everywhere from Iceland to Israel, Scotland to Spain, Athens to Amsterdam. I’ve spent chunks of time in Italy, Egypt, Costa Rica, Turkey, France, the American southwest. And, of course, I love to write.  What a dream job that would be!  I envision a guidebook for the zany, aging-but-young-at heart traveler!

What piece of clothing tells the most interesting story about your life?

Well, there are many I could choose from, but here’s one … Those who know my New York wardrobe of black, grey, and an occasional navy blue are going to tell you this couldn’t possibly be true, but it is. 

In my closet there’s a gold lamé skirt, a pair of leopard-print tights, a big blonde wig, and lots of bling.  That was my outfit for the Pulpwood Queens “Girlfriends Weekend” in the winter of 2020, when I threw my intellectual self aside and jumped up to compete in the Dolly Parton look-alike contest. (In case you’re wondering, the missing part of the ensemble was provided by a friendly bystander with balloons.)

It was totally unlike anything I’d ever done, and totally liberating. I’ll remember that moment forever—when I abandoned who-I-thought-I-was, leapt way outside my comfort zone, and plunged into the moment. I feel pretty certain that I’ll never wear that outfit again, but it was a life-changing experience.