In the movies, John Travolta got to strut to "Stayin' Alive." Harry finally won back Sally with a backdrop of "It Had to Be You." But what's the right music for me, making peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches for my kids?

With iPods selling at a rate of 100 a minute last quarter, and 35 million MP3 players already out on the market, people are now routinely creating their own private musical worlds. Instead of just listening to albums, they're mixing and matching individual songs- making it possible to walk around with the equivalent of their own personal soundtracks everywhere from the health club to the office.

It's something that Hollywood, of course, has always done. Staccato notes signal danger for our hero. Strains of Celine Dion evoke Leonardo DiCaprio succumbing to the icy North Atlantic. The right song at the right time holds a huge emotional power.

What's Your Soundtrack?

Do you have a soundtrack for your life? Share your choices with Jeffrey Zaslow at We'll select some of the best responses and publish them in the online Journal.

But trying this at home presents some challenges&mdash;for instance, the touchy matter of choosing a melody for time spent with my wife. She wouldn't expect me to play "Wind Beneath My Wings" every time she enters a room. But she also wouldn't want me to stick her with, say, the theme music from "Jaws."

So to create my own personal soundtrack, I traveled to Hollywood, seeking the help of some of its best talents. These included a Grammy-winning director; the creator of "The O.C.," a TV teen drama with an ever-changing and influential playlist; and a major studio executive. I brought along a book containing 14,000 songs, in search of about a dozen that would set the mood, and perhaps even uplift, my often-mundane life in suburban Detroit. Along the way, I hoped to learn how these music meisters go about deciding which songs are worthy of their soundtracks.

My three soundtrack mentors began by asking me questions. "What song gives you goose bumps when you play it nonstop in your car?" asked Zach Braff, the actor/director who put together the offbeat, Grammy-winning soundtrack for his 2004 movie, "Garden State."

The Zaslow Soundtrack

Hear excerpts from our reporter's personal playlist:

Bruce Springsteen, "Drive All Night"

Bobby Fuller Four, "I Fought the Law"


Dire Straits, "Why Worry"

The Temptations, "My Girl"

Orleans, "Still the One"

Gavin DeGraw, "Follow Through"

Mary Chapin Carpenter, "This Is Love"


Harry Nilsson, "Without You"

Roy Orbison, "In Dreams"

Johnny Mathis, "Wonderful! Wonderful!"

"What music were your parents listening to when you were in the womb?" wondered Kathy Nelson, president of Film Music for Universal Pictures, who in her long career has helped spawn such soundtracks as "Beverly Hills Cop," "8 Mile" and the new "King Kong." (She's also bandleader Ozzie Nelson's niece and pop star Ricky Nelson's cousin.)

"What song plays in your head when you're lying in bed, weeping into your pillow?" asked Josh Schwartz, creator of "The O.C."

Roy Orbison's "In Dreams" is one of my goose-bumps songs. "Wonderful! Wonderful!" by Johnny Mathis was a song I likely heard from the womb in 1958. And I'm not a big pillow-weeper, but I recall being a boy, lying in bed listening to Harry Nilsson's "Without You," and feeling overwhelmed by the misery of unrequited junior-high love.

Mr. Schwartz, 29 years old, says he is constantly soundtracking his life. "It goes with the territory of being nostalgic for my life as I'm living it," he explained in liner notes for an "O.C." CD. "You can't plan your life's soundtrack. It's just one of those accidental miracles that occurs&mdash;you're having a moment, and a perfect song accompanies it, and suddenly your brain is seared with the understanding that this is a time and a place and a song you'll never forget." (For a look at how director Cameron Crowe creates his soundtracks, see accompanying article.)

Here's how my soundtrack played out:

Time: 6:50 a.m.

Activity: Making lunches

Song: "Drive All Night"

My day begins when I make lunches for my three daughters to take to school, as NBC's "Today" show begins on the kitchen TV. But my soundtrack song shouldn't be about making lunch, advised Mr. Schwartz, nor should I commission "The Ballad of Katie Couric."

"You don't want a soundtrack song that literally defines the moment," he explained, also nixing "Manic Monday" by the Bangles. Instead, he suggested I find music that is "poetic and transportive." He asked: Is there a song that reminds me of a time when I had fewer responsibilities?

Yes, there is. I had my wife's wedding ring inscribed with the words "I'd drive all night," a reference to Bruce Springsteen's 1980 song about a man who'd drive all night just to buy shoes for the woman he loved. Now, 18 years into our marriage, my wife and I are so busy servicing our children that there isn't time to consider the romance promised in that inscription. OK, then. Katie Couric, lunchmeat, a vow to a young wife: "Drive All Night."

Music should focus on emotions, not the plotlines of your life, said Ms. Nelson. That's why she doesn't give composers the scripts when she hires them to score a movie. Instead, she merely describes the broad emotions a soundtrack should capture&mdash;anger, fear, exhilaration.

Time: 8:05 a.m.

Activity: The carpool line

Song: "I Fought the Law"

I drive my 10-year-old to school and wait in the carpool line. My soundtrack mentors said a good song for such a moment might trigger an early musical memory, or remind me of my own school days. So I think back: When I was 10, I got in trouble for socializing with other kids in class. We all had to write "I will not talk with my friends" 100 times. Being a rebel, I wrote, "I will not chat with my chums." My teacher was miffed, but for me it's a warm memory. As my daughter heads into her school, the song on my soundtrack is from 1966: the Bobby Fuller Four's "I Fought the Law."

Time: 3:20 p.m.

Activity: On the job

Song: "All You Ever Do Is Bring Me Down"

When I met Mr. Schwartz, he brought along Alexandra Patsavas, the show's music supervisor. They suggested I look beyond mainstream releases. Ms. Patsavas receives 500 tapes and compact discs each week, many from unsigned acts eager to be in the show's soundtrack. (The show features about 200 songs over its 25-episode season.) She said we can find a lot of these performers on the Internet. On, you type in songs or singers you like, and you're then offered new music that is similar and might appeal to you. touts great foreign acts. offers podcasts of familiar songs covered by new artists.

Mr. Braff, a fan of up-and-comers Joshua Radin and Ray LaMontagne, suggested that I give music a litmus test by taking a walking tour. He told me to load up an iPod and walk down a busy street. "You'll notice that everything is moving to the rhythm of your music," he said. "You'll feel like you're in your own music video."

I took Mr. Braff's advice. That helped me pick Dire Straits's "Why Worry" for the moment each day when I remember that, oh yeah, I have unpaid bills. "All You Ever Do Is Bring Me Down" by the Mavericks seemed appropriate for when my editors ask me to rewrite an article. When my older daughters, ages 16 and 14, are fighting other over shared clothing, "My Girl" by the Temptations is the perfect song to drown them out. That song reminds me of when they were lovable little girls, dancing in our living room.

Time: 5:30 p.m.

Activity: Tending to my love life

Song: "Still the One."

My mentors had me go through my music collection to look for clues about myself and my marriage. There I found a cassette tape I made in 1985, just after my wife, Sherry, and I started dating. I lived in Chicago then, she lived in Detroit, and I wanted to share with her the songs I loved, from Steve Forbert's "Romeo's Tune" to Buddy Holly's "Everyday." The tape lasted 90 minutes, and after Sherry listened to it, she sent me a letter. "Don't you like women?" she asked.

She had noticed that every artist on the tape was male. So I mailed her another cassette. This time, all the songs were by Carole King, Ella Fitzgerald and other female artists. At the end, I tacked on "Just like a Woman" by Bob Dylan. I was exonerated.

Aware of my soundtrack project in recent weeks, Sherry wondered what music I'd pick as a tribute to her. No, I didn't choose "Wind Beneath My Wings" or the "Jaws" theme. I finally selected Orleans's bouncy 1976 hit, "Still the One." Because she is.

Time: 6:35 p.m.

Activity: Connecting with the kids

Song: "Follow Through"

Let loved ones in your life suggest music, my mentors said, because it may have extra resonance. The songs on "Garden State" have intimate meanings for Mr. Braff, and he introduced them to his family. "I love that my grandmother is driving around Boca Raton listening to Coldplay," he said.

My daughters are fans of Gavin DeGraw's "Follow Through," a love song with this refrain: "Since you want to be with me, you'll have to follow through, with every word you say&hellip;" I added it to my soundtrack; it has an empowering message for my family about keeping promises.

Time: 7:15 p.m.

Activity: Family dinner

Song: "This Is Love"

For my closing soundtrack song, I wanted something for Friday nights, when my wife, daughters and I gather for our Sabbath dinner. It's our pledge of family time after a hectic week, and once the kids' bickering subsides, we go around the table, each saying something good that happened in the past seven days. It's often a beautiful exercise, but what music could capture it?

When in doubt, go with a love song, my mentors said. I settled on a Mary Chapin Carpenter song that's both aching and buoyant: "This Is Love."

Before I left Hollywood, Mr. Schwartz had told me about the final song that played at his bar mitzvah, 16 years ago in Providence, R.I. It was "That's What Friends Are For." All his friends and relatives had gathered on the dance floor, he said. "For those three minutes, they wrapped their arms around each other, forgot about their problems, and swayed."

Mr. Schwartz is now famous for selecting cutting-edge alternative music for a hip TV show. But a part of him remains that 13-year-old boy, embraced by both the people who loved him and by the schmaltzy standard that defined the moment.

Likewise, the eclectic soundtrack of my life probably wouldn't sell well on iTunes. But it speaks to the boy I was, the man I am, and the family I love. Excuse me while I turn up the volume.

Write to Jeffrey Zaslow at