Do you remember an old cartoon about a man who found
a very talented frog? It sang “Hello,
My Baby” and tap danced, and the man thought he had found something really
special, but as soon as anyone else was around, the frog would refuse to
sing. It would just sit there, very serious
and frog like, saying “ribbit.” It
eventually drove the poor man insane. I
think the final scene of the cartoon was of the man being taken to an insane
asylum as the frog, all alone with the man in the paddy wagon, happily sang and
tap danced to the sound of the man's sobs.
I understood that cartoon on many levels, because my son was that frog. He had an unusually good voice, even at a
very early age, but refused to sing in public.
He wouldn’t even sing in front of people who had known him since the day
he was born. Occasionally, if everyone
agreed to turn their backs and avoid looking at him, I could get him to sing a
line to two, but nothing more. It wasn’t
until he had some training, and met the right teachers, that things really came
together for him.
Here is what I have learned from my son’s
experience, and many of these things have helped me to grow as a writer and as
a person.
1. Work on your craft. In the early days, when my son wouldn’t sing,
I insisted he take private voice lessons.
I didn’t want to be pushy, and told him he would never have to sing in
public if he didn’t want to, but I insisted on the lessons. There is a simple reason for this. When
you are given a gift, whether it is the ability to sing or to dance or to
write, it is your responsibility to nurture that gift and help it to grow. Even if you never share it with anyone else,
even if it means dancing when no one is watching or singing alone or writing
without any thought of ever being published, you must do it. I wanted my son to nurture his gift, and to
have the skills in place to be able to perform if he ever wanted to do so. I found a gentle lady with a quiet demeanor
named Lisa Abrams who gave my son classical training. At first he was hesitant, and would only sing
for her with his back turned, but eventually his confidence grew.
2. Force
yourself out of your comfort zone. The school talent show was coming up, and my
son agreed to sing. It was a very big
step for him and he was scared to death, but he did it. He sang “The Grenade Song” by Bruno Mars, and
it was a huge hit. Afterwards, he looked
at me and said, “I want to do that again.”
We all face things that frighten us, but sometimes those are the things
that end up being the most worthwhile. Challenge yourself, and just do it.
3. Find
kindred spirits.
Riding on the success of the talent show, my son wanted to join a group
called the For Those About to Rock Academy.
I was still a little worried that he would sit in the back of the room
and refuse to sing in front of the other kids, so before signing up, I asked if
he could meet the teachers and sing for them.
That was the day he met Joey Granati and Cathy Stewart. They had mentioned they might do a Queen song
for the upcoming session, so he learned “We Are the Champions.” He was nervous, but after chatting with Cathy
a bit, he agreed to sing, and as soon as he began to sing, Joey began to cheer.
His nervousness disappeared. They understood him and he understood them. A few days later, he met David Granati, the other
teacher at Rock Academy, and it was magic.
Even now, after performing with them for more than a year, I see his
eyes meet David’s on stage as he belts out a song and David grins, his fingers
flying over the strings of his electric guitar.
I see my son look for Cathy to make sure he comes in at the right place and
doesn’t miss his cue. And I watch him
grin as Joey, playing on the bass, leans back against him and strikes a classic
rockers’ pose during a song they both love to play. Kindred spirits. We need them as writers, too. And when we find them, we know it instantly
and it is like a little miracle.
4. Not
every song goes smoothly. Sometimes things just sort of fall apart on
stage. Voices crack. Mistakes are made. Things are forgotten. But once the song is over, you just move on
to the next song. That is important to
remember as a writer. If you write
something crappy, get over it. Your next
book might be better. If not, get over
that, too. Call your kindred spirits,
whine (or wine) a little, and get back to work.
No one said it would be easy, but if you love it, it is worth every bump
in the road.
5. Embrace
spontaneity.
I’m a compulsive organizer. I’ll
admit it. I plan things out. Whenever I go on a trip, I print out
directions, use a GPS, and also put Google Maps on my phone, just in case. I make reservations. I research parking areas. I leave as little as possible to chance. But I have learned that some of the most
beautiful things happen spontaneously.
Once, my son was asked to learn a new song. He did, and went over it with Joey, but didn’t
rehearse it with the guitarist and the drummer.
They just went on stage and did it, and it was great. Rockers are spontaneous, but they are not
especially organized or conscious of time.
Your writing needs to have a little of both. Whenever I write, I know where I’m going in
my story (sort of like using a GPS), but I’m willing to veer off if I find
something interesting along the way. I know
the GPS will lead me back, but I don’t want to miss the opportunity to find
something magical and unexpected – sort of like the diner we found in San Luis
Obispo that had the best blueberry pancakes in the whole world. We never would have found that place if we
didn’t have a newly potty trained child who needed a bathroom urgently, and
that is my point. Enjoy the surprises.
6. Celebrate
your progress. Before
my son had private lessons, and before he met Joey and Cathy and David, he was in the elementary
school choir and was chosen by his teacher, Mrs. Damesimo, for the District
Honors Chorus. It was a great experience
for him, and a wonderful opportunity to meet even more kindred spirits. But the thing that stands out to me the most
is the difference between when he started chorus, and his last performance at a
concert his sixth grade year. This child
who was once so nervous that he couldn’t sing unless everyone turned around,
belted out a solo in front of hundreds of people. His friends in the audience screamed and
cheered. He responded with a shy, little
smile. Mrs. Damesimo glowed. She knew exactly how far he had come and so
did my son. As writers, we have to see
our progress, too, even if it means going back to that horrible thing you wrote
a few years ago – if only to realize how much better you have become and how
much hard work can pay off.
7. Love
what you do.
When I see Joey and David and Cathy on stage, it is clear they are doing
what they love. When I watch Lisa
teaching my son, it is clear that she is doing what she loves. When I see Mrs. Damesimo directing the sweet
little faces in the elementary chorus, I know she is doing what she loves. And when I see my son sing, I know he is
doing what he loves, too….for now. He
also loves soccer and reading and spends way too much time playing video games,
but music is a big part of who he is as a person, and I hope it always remains
a part of his life. I didn’t find my
passion in music, I found it in writing, but it took me a while. Even though people have been telling me I
should be a writer my whole entire life, I didn’t listen. I travelled and learned and explored and got
married and had a family…and then found out writing is what I really love to do. It is my passion, and I am incomplete without
it.
It is never too late, so keep writing, and ROCK ON! \m/
If you'd like to see my son's solo at the chorus concert:
http://youtu.be/_9wCpqPls6o
And this is a video him performing with the Rock Academy and the always wonderful Joey Granati:
http://youtu.be/PEwd877_o-k
