I started writing a song a couple of weeks ago. I thought it would come quickly and the first draft did come rather easily, however, the first draft was not even close to right. And I'm still writing it and I haven't found the gold just yet. 

My husband is not a songwriter, but he is a writer. He writes more than I do but in a different medium and he is not one to tell me my work is good when it isn't. He asks me hard questions, he pushes me to stay focused and admit when I don't have it yet. 

This is where I'm at. Not the best feeling in the whole world, and yet, part of me loves it.  

When he walked in the door last night I pounced on him with a new version before he could even set his stuff down. He listened and then asked, "What's it about?"  

I defensively said, "It's about a waitress seeing her childhood friend on television while she's waiting tables. It's a scene." 

And he says, "Yeah, but why?" 

And then it hits me. I hear all these voices I've heard before. I know exactly what he's saying. I've written a song about the song. I've written trying to hide the truth. There's something I'm not saying. I'm not fooling anybody.

GUT PUNCH.  

In a good way. 

I think this could be a good song and I think it's a challenge. I haven't rolled my sleeves up like this in a while so I am due. I love that my husband is here to keep me honest, to remind me how important it is to do the work. I'm impatient to get it right and find the sweet spot, but sometimes it takes time and lots and lots of rough drafts. This morning I'm considering getting rid of everything I already have and starting over. At least for this go around. 

For now I'm going on a run in the country. It'll give me time to think, to sing out loud, to find what I've been avoiding. Stay tuned. We're doing this. It's hard, but hard is good. 

 

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