Help! My Co-Writer Butchered My Song

CoWriterDrama

 

 

 

One of my first ever super-cool ideas for a song was butchered by a co-writer. I don’t mean he stunk it up a little, I mean what was once a cool idea became an unsightly boil on the hind end of my little catalogue of creations for all of eternity.

I still shudder when I think about how it all went down and what a WASTED opportunity it was.

The truth is I was new to Nashville. I didn’t know anything about co-writing, but people told me to do it. So, I figured it was as good a way as any to meet people. In my naiveté, it never occurred to me that just because someone SAID they were a songwriter, it didn’t mean they knew how to write a song.

I’d packed up my life in WV and moved to the ‘big city.’ I assumed that anyone who did that had to be good. Otherwise, why would you move here?

Poor Sweet Ignorant Soul

Before I knew it, I’d given a really cool idea to guy who had no idea what to do with it and no respect for me as a writer. We got together once—long enough for me to realize that I’d made a huge mistake. Not long after that, I got a note that he’d finished  it with another writer (without bothering to include me) along with a bill for my 1/3 of the demo.

…I nearly pulled back my hair and took out my earrings!!!

 

Today, Gang, such a thing wouldn’t go down that way. I’m much, much more experienced, and I can handle a rogue if need be. (That means I can unleash my inner hillbilly, in case you didn’t catch it.)

However, the truth is there are growing pains to be had along the way. We all have them.

Since I’ve been there on a few occasions, let me give you a little advice just in case, God forbid, it happens to you as you’re wandering merrily along your way.

1. Open communication with your co-writer is not an option.

When you tell your co-writer about your super-amazing-brilliant idea, your job is communicate EVERYTHING about the idea. If you hear the song a certain way, tell them. Do not assume your brand new acquaintance can hear what’s in your head. NEVER assume that.

For example, it never occurred to me during that awful co-write experience I told you about that he wouldn’t hear the song like I did. It was just so obvious to me. …yeah, he did NOT hear the obvious.

2. Be open to hearing your idea a different way.

Before you fall off the deep end, take a step back and breathe. Consider, for a moment, that you’re wrong. What if they really did nail it and you’re the one missing it. You owe it to the song to listen with an open mind.

3. You work in service of the song.

At the end of the day, it’s not about your ego and it’s not about your co-writer’s ego. The dialogue is about the song and what serves it.

If it was your idea, and you and your co-writer can’t get on the same page, then politely ask for it back. It’s not a big deal. Just say, “Hey, this isn’t going where I wanted it to, so I’d like to take it back off the table. Let’s look for something that fits our collective styles a little better.” NO BIG DEAL. I’ve done it, and I’ve had it done to me. Absolutely no hard feelings.

Have you had an experience similar to mine? I’d love to hear about how you handled it.

 

The Closet of Gratuitous Praise

I was home on a Friday night many years ago, and “Sabrina, the Teenage Witch,” was on the television. I wasn’t watching it, mind you, but I just hadn’t flipped the channel.

In a moment of complete and utter writer BRILLIANCE, this scene happened!

If you’ve been in one of my songwriting classes, you may have heard me reference the Closet of Gratuitous Praise. It’s such a guilty admission, but it honestly comes from,” Sabrina, the Teenage Witch.” Who knew I’d have a life changing moment?!?!

CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE HAVING A CLOSET LIKE THIS???

Every time you feel ‘less than’ or ‘loser,’ you could open the closet and be affirmed.

This week I got some feedback that I’m too encouraging. It was some terrific food for thought: I’d never want someone to rely on pleasing me instead of pleasing themselves. After all, who am I? If you can’t please yourself you can’t please anyone.

Still, it hit me in a really thoughtful way so you can imagine my joy when the amazing Romi Kamburg posted the video on my web page.

So HERE ARE 3 THINGS TO REMEMBER:

1.DO NOT mistake positive feedback from someone for positive feedback from yourself. You have your own answers.

2. NEVER wait for permission. Permission isn’t found outside of you.

3. NO ONE knows what works for you better than you.

…and with that, should you ever need some big, fat gratuitous praise, here is the perfect closet!!!  You’re totally covered.

So The Publisher Doesn’t Like Your Song?

Here’s the scene:

You’ve put every ounce of creative juice into this one masterpiece. You’ve counted your syllables, you’ve leaned on hard rhymes, and your hook is killer. Every line of the lyric brilliantly supports the hook. (How will you stay humble?!)

If all that isn’t enough, then there’s the melody. Holy cow, the MELODY! You LOVE singing it. It just ‘feel’s right. It fits in that perfect pocket. Genius.

Let’s just be honest. If you had to choose between THIS song and your first born, you would actually have to have a quick internal dialogue about which one you love more.

Piano keys

THAT is how stinking amazing this song is.

…and then the unfathomable happens.

You play it for that publisher you’ve been trying so hard to impress and, well, they just don’t “get” it.

“I mean, it’s technically correct, but it just doesn’t do anything for me.”

WHAT?

SAY THAT AGAIN A LITTLE CLOSER TO MY FACE, HOT SHOT!

You start growing your horns. You’re ready for battle. Who does this joker think they are?

You breathe in. Breathe out.

You remember that burning bridges is a bad idea at this point in your career.

You thank them for their time and leave with your tail tucked.

By the time you get to the car, you’re fighting back tears.


Why do I even mess with this?  
Why bother?

The music industry stinks.

Everybody hates you.

…it’s all just a…

HANG ON!!!!!!!!!

I’ve been there. Shoot, I’ve been on both sides of that. I’ve gotten that reaction and I’ve given that feedback.

Here’s what I suggest, Gang.

1. Stop.

As writers, and especially as new writers, we pour so much of our precious time and thought in our songs that it can be hard to distinguish the line between where we, the person, ends and where the song begins. You have to remember that the person listening is only seeing what’s on the page and hearing what’s in the room. They are having a reaction to the SONG, not to you. When a listener doesn’t like your song, it is not a commentary on your worth as a human being.

2. Ask.

If you really need to know, then ask. “Is there a particular part that’s not working for you?” “Do you see anyway I could improve it?”  But remember, the answer could just be ‘no.’ And trust me, whatever you do, don’t start defending the song. It’s over. It’s done. You’re not going to convince someone to love a song by being defensive. Thank them for their time and move along. (Note** If you handle this step right, you could actually get a future meeting with a new song! Again, trust me.)

3. Decide.

Based on the feedback you got, now you have to decide. Do you want to play the song for someone else? Do you want to shelve it for a while and see how you feel about it in a few months? Do you want to rework it? Regardless, DECIDE. Do NOT let the experience roll around in your head and defeat you. Make a decision, do what you need to do, and get back to work.

Remember, at the end of the day, you’re the writer and you get to decide what to do with your feedback, but navigating this field can be tough. Write the best song you can write today, and then tomorrow, write the best song you can write tomorrow. Always, ALWAYS take the good with the not-so-good and use it to get better.

 

I Had to Disappear…no, really…

I knew the past 6 weeks were going to be busy. I thought I was ready for it. I had mapped out my schedule, penned in slots for everything I needed to do, prioritized and pep-talked myself all the way to the beginning of the start. I was psyched. I was ready.

My mantra: Tweet: No matter what, be kind to yourself. @belindascre8iveNo matter what, be kind to yourself.

And for the past six weeks, I was on airplanes every week, I was in an intense Life Coach certification school, I was finishing up my very first ever Christmas musical (insert shameless plug here for, “Once You’ve Seen the Star,” coming soon), and I had a heavy disability advocacy case load (which meant lots more studying.)

Well, you’ve heard what is said about the best laid plans…

Gang, at about week 3, I looked around and thought, “Holy Mother of the Cows! What have I gotten myself into?!”

Cow

Calls started going unanswered, emails unreturned, I was missing Facebook messages, and my friends were thinking I’d left town for good.

At the point panic was about to take over, and under the heading of being kind to myself, I took an afternoon off. I happened to be in New Bern, NC, and it was a gorgeous day. So, I locked up my computer, my cell phone, my files, my manuals and my worries, and I just walked around. I wandered in and out of galleries and tiny specialty shops. I ate toast with butter (a HEAVENLY accident) at a little diner. I perused the Pepsi shop—the place where Pepsi was invented, and I took a long walk around the bay.

In other words, I took some time to participate in the world outside of ‘me.’ I stopped focusing on Princess Belinda (gasp!).

During that afternoon, I appreciated all kinds of beautiful and fun things. And to be honest, it was course-changing.

On the plane flying home to Nashville that night, I decided that for the next few weeks, there were some emails and calls that were going to have to go unanswered. I was going to postpone the launch of Dashboard Poets AND my 1-on-1 Mentoring course. My newsletter wasn’t going to go out, and I was going to miss a few social gatherings. And that was ok.

Sometimes you have to be where you are.
Sometimes you get your answers when you’re not actively looking for them.
And, like my Dad always says:

All you can do is ALL you can do.

And it’s ok.

…because when you get back from your personal hiatus, you’re going to be ready to get some serious stuff done!!! BAM!

Do You Ever Just FREAK Out?

So, picture this: I got on a plane and flew to Savannah, GA, for dinner. For DINNER! 

Well, okay, it wasn’t just any ol’ dinner. I threw my name in when Susan Hyatt announced her, “Girlfriends Gone Wild” event. One night, 20 fabulous women, a little life coaching and great food. 

Doesn’t it all sound like fun? Well, it was. …until it came time to actually ENTER the restaurant.

See, I’ve always had this ‘thing’ about walking into rooms of people I don’t know. It’s odd—I can be on stage in front of thousands and not bat an eye. I can teach a group without a moment’s hesitation. But to just walk in to a room of strangers and have to start making small talk??? deer.jpg

Jesus, take the wheel.

Guess what? THIS IS SOMETHING I HAVE TO DO! I mean, I just big fat have to do it sometimes. Why? 

Tweet: Relationships are everything.#songwriters #womeninbusiness @BelindaSCre8iveRelationships are everything.

Relationships are imperative for what we do. (Yes, for WHATEVER we do.) And, no, I’m not talking networking. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want anyone’s business card unless I want it, and it’s likely that I don’t want it if there’s no connection. (Soapbox for a another day.)

So here’s how I handled my good, old-fashioned FREAKING OUT about entering a room of people I didn’t know. 

1. I decided on my question. 

You know, the question—So, what do you do?  I spent a lot of years working at a job that in no way defined me or gave much insight into who I really was, and it was during that time that I stopped asking people what they ‘did.’ I’m not as interested in what someone does as who they are. So, I started asking other questions—What do you like to do for fun? or I’m planning my next vacation. Where’s your favorite vacation spot?  Based on who was going to be attending this particular event, I decided my question was, “So what are you most proud of?” (…it was a good one.)

2. I decided on my answer.

Even though I don’t love the question about what I do, I knew I was going to be asked. Here’s the start of my answer: My name is Belinda Smith, and I work with the best people in the world. 

3. I reminded myself of why I was there in the first place.

I was there to meet, be inspired by, and to inspire amazing women. …and I’d just taken a night away from home to do it. SOMEONE was going to make it worth the trip whether they liked it or not! 

Needless to say, I stepped out of my comfort zone in a BIG way. And, yes, it was worth it. For me, though, thinking about how I was going to show up and the kinds of conversations I wanted to have really did help the room-anxiety. It was like I’d given myself a road map of sorts, and Heaven knows we all need a little direction.

So, now that you know about my ’thing,’ do you have tips on how YOU do this? How do you do parties with strangers? HELP ME OUT HERE! 

My Writing has Gone Retro

I’m a huge believer in pen-to-paper writing, or as my cousin, Darnell Arnoult calls it, the power of the pen on the page. As a songwriter, I’ve always found it interesting that the songs I start writing on paper get recorded at higher percentages than the ones I start on a laptop. I have no idea if it’s true for anyone else, but it has been for me.

I recently started taking a new class (y’all know I’m always up into something), and for this class I decided to only use a notebook and pen. No laptop. No voice recorder. I’ve gone completely retro!  Retro

Here’s Why I Think I Made a Great Call

1. I can only write down the really important concepts. Since I’m not typing, I don’t have the luxury of taking down lots of words. I can only pick the big ideas and what I think about them. This has given me a surprising amount of focus.

2. I get to doodle. I recall more of what people say if I can doodle while they’re talking. I’m not the only one, it seems. Jackie Andrade, a psychologist at the University of Plymouth in England, published a study in Applied Cognitive Psychology finding, among other things, that doodlers aren’t daydreaming. In other words, your mind doesn’t wander like it does when you just have to sit and listen and concentrate. 

3. I have archives. I’m a sucker for written pages. I love looking back through old handwritten lyrics and notes. There’s ALWAYS ‘character’ on the pages. Just from looking at the penmanship I can tell how I was feeling that day. I write big and sloppy, small and perfect, and every way in between depending on how I’m feeling. And while I don’t know that anyone would ever care to see the pages, I get a kick out them, and that’s enough for me.

What’s your take on pen-to-paper vs. laptop? Leave a comment below. I’m curious!

P.S. YES! Pencils are fine, too.(Like I didn’t know you would ask?!?!?!)

5 Ways Resistance Kicks My Hiney

 

I’ve had a little time to catch up on some reading the past few weeks, and I’ve been thinking a lot about my processes. One habit I’m really interested in dealing with is my, er, “ability” to put things off till the last minute. Let’s just say that I would be a gold medalist if that were a sport.

The cruddy part about this, though, is that I don’t like it. I don’t like how it feels, and I don’t like that I do it. So, it’s time to face this Enemy head-on. …I mean, in a minute, after I write this.

PROCRASTINATION = RESISTANCE

I would wager that I’m one of the best ‘resisters’ ever. I’ve always chalked up my ability to procrastinate as just one of my eccentricities. However, I’m starting to look at it a little differently these days.

Steven Pressfield says the following in his book, “The War of Art”:

Tweet: Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work.Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work.

 

And I’m really starting to see that in my own life. I’m also noticing a HUGE amount of procrastinating with the things I’m most excited about doing.

“Resistance is not a peripheral opponent. Resistance arises from within. It is self-generated and self-perpetuated. Resistance is the enemy within.” –Steven Pressfield, The War of Art

Here are the Top#5 Tool that Resistance Uses on Me:

  1. Worry. If I’m not careful, Resistance will plant something in my mind to worry about, and then if I don’t worry about sRESISTANCEaid thing, Resistance will tell me I should worry that I’m not worried. And then I worry. But I may not worry about the original thing because, even though I worry, I’m still stubborn.
  2. Facebook. Yep.
  3. Shoes. I’m convinced that I don’t get nearly as much accomplished if I don’t have my shoes on. Of course, the right shoes are never where I think they are, and so search must ensue. Before you know it, I’m 15 minutes behind again.
  4. Email. Did I reply to that? Wait, where did that email go? Am I too late to reply? Should I email anyway? …you know the drill.
  5. Bernice. Bernice is my pug. I have three dogs, but Bernice is the only one that doesn’t know she’s a dog. Bernice is a little, wrinkled, loaf-shaped stinker who will do ANYTHING to keep me from working. She wins a lot. (I’m such a softie.)

You should know that just in writing this little note to you, I’ve worried about my next electric bill (it’s 7 degrees out right now), I’ve had to fight the urge to check my Facebook messages, I’m wearing big warm socks and I’m PROFOUNDLY aware that my sneakers are in my closet and NOT on my feet, I have 2 new email messages in my inbox (that I haven’t checked!), and Bernice has climbed in my lap. (Hey, I didn’t say I’ve got it figured out yet!)

So, going forward I’m paying attention to these five things, and I’m going to be more conscious of managing Resistance. I have exciting things on the books, and I want to be present for them.

Do you notice any Resistance in your life? Am I the lone weirdo here? (Wouldn’t be the first time. ha)

Saddle Up Your Horses

 

Confession: I HATE NEW YEAR’S EVE.

New Year’s Eve is NOT my thing. For years I’d try to pretend that it was fun, but a while back I gave myself permission to stay home a

NEWYEARSEVEWHATEVER

nd enjoy the quiet. That was one of the best decisions I ever made. I just couldn’t handle the ‘fun pressure’ anymore. Bleh. I’m a geek. Geeks Rock.

HOWEVER:

I can totally get behind a brand new cool calendar.

A new set of color markers.

A clean slate.

Possibility.

Hope.

A whole year to make new ideas reality? Yes.

And, Beautifuls, I have NEW ideas. So, so many ideas.

 

SO LET’S DO THIS

I’m playing with my calendar and my markers, and I’m dreaming really big. I’m praying for my dreams and for yours tonight.

 

And, to quote an old favorite, SADDLE UP YOUR HORSES, WE’VE GOT A TRAIL TO BLAZE. 

 

WHAT ABOUT YOU?

What’s your big plan for next year? Come on, inspire us!
Here’s to finding True North, putting one foot in front of the other, and moving forward with a good community.

On Not Having Children

Natural LoveOn my flight today, I sat behind a young Mother holding an 11-month old boy. He was beautiful. Not in a traditional way, though. He was beautiful from the inside out, and I thought so as soon as I saw him.

You should know I’m not really a “kid” person. I’m not anti-kid at all, but personally I’ve never longed for a child. I’m glad other people have kids, of course, but it’s just never been my thing. And as a person with a disability, having kids has always felt kind of, well, I’ll just say “tricky” and leave it at that.

But, this little boy held on his Mother’s lap was captivating. He observed with intensity. I’ve never seen a child consider his surroundings with such concentration–the blue leather seat, the olive briefcase, the orange silk scarf. He was so curious, so deeply invested in putting the mental pieces together that I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

What a sweet soul, I thought.

It was nearly ten minutes before I noticed that something was different about this baby, something more than I’ve just described. As his mother eventually confirmed, he has Down Syndrome.

She talked about how she and her husband had packed up their lives and moved across the country because the baby had breathing problems in their old location. She said he already has an occupational therapist and physical therapist, and he would begin with a speech therapist next year.

He’s been here for 11 months.

I looked at how young the Mother is, and I watched as she wrapped her whole heart around that child. I wondered about all the possibilities for their future, and I thought about how emotionally challenging the past eleven months must have been–so many doctors and tests and treatment plans and research. And I watched as she held that little boy to her chest, how she rocked him gently back and forth, and how she kissed his head. So much love.

…and sitting there on that flight, watching that 11 month old baby with Down Syndrome take in the wonder and love of his new world, I felt the only ping of regret I’ve ever had for not having children.

I suppose it’s true that real love can make you see things differently.

 

P.S. If you know of anyone else who would enjoy this, I’d be honored if you shared it. Click the buttons below to send it to your online universe.

How to Win the Writing Game by William Jeanes

Here’s an article I think all writers will appreciate. Enjoy.

In Issue:  of The Saturday Evening Post

Many of you out there in this great land of ours have taken pen in hand to write in seeking the inside dope on how to write good. I’ve reached into my bag of tricks and come up with one sure-fire tip from the top: Avoid clichés like the plague.

A hearty hats off to the man or woman who gave us that pearl of wisdom. Those are, as sure as I’m sitting here, words for writers to live by.

Though I’m busier than a one-armed paperhanger, and I’ve got a lot on my plate, I’ll take time out of my busy day to clue you in about how clichés can ruin your whole day. Here are three good reasons you should give clichés a wide berth.

Many of you out there in this great land of ours have taken pen in hand to write in seeking the inside dope on how to write good. I’ve reached into my bag of tricks and come up with one sure-fire tip from the top: Avoid clichés like the plague.

A hearty hats off to the man or woman who gave us that pearl of wisdom. Those are, as sure as I’m sitting here, words for writers to live by.

Though I’m busier than a one-armed paperhanger, and I’ve got a lot on my plate, I’ll take time out of my busy day to clue you in about how clichés can ruin your whole day. Here are three good reasons you should give clichés a wide berth.

First, clichés suck the life out of those words you’ve been working overtime on, leaving your sentence without a leg to stand on, as it were.

Second, a cliché is old hat, pure and simple. People in all walks of life have heard them time and time again—more times than you can shake a stick at.

Third, if you were a fly on the wall, getting an earful of folks spewing clichés left and right, you’d fall all over yourself to bid a fond farewell to that wall and get the hell out of Dodge.

If you want to make your writing smooth as silk and solid as a rock, you must set yourself apart from the crowd. Put some distance between yourself and all those run-of-the-mill writers. Realize that you’re not your own worst enemy; the cliché gets that nod. You may work your fingers to the bone, but in the end, when your writing is clear as a bell and beautiful to gaze upon, trust me, you’ll be proud as a peacock.

Keep your nose to the grindstone, and before you know it you’ll find brand spanking new ways to put into words things you’ve kept bottled up in your heart of hearts for lo, these many years. Just a once-over-lightly look at your letters tells me that you’re dead serious about making something of yourself. I know as well as I know my own name that you’re willing to give cliché-avoidance the old college try. It’s as plain as the nose on your face, and you deserve a pat on the back. It’s only natural that you want more than anything in the world to make your colleagues so green with envy that they’ll scream bloody murder. Get with the program, and soon you’ll be in Fat City—sitting in the catbird seat, happy as a clam.

Taking a long, hard look at your questions tells me in words I can’t ignore that you’ll spare no effort to write paragraphs that light up the page like a Christmas tree.

So, how do you rid that Great American Novel, the one you’re burning the midnight oil over, of clichés? It’s as easy as falling off a log—just keep in mind the hoary old chestnut that says: If it walks like a duck, looks like a duck, and sounds like a duck, you can bet your bottom dollar it’s a duck. Stick to your guns, and you’ll have those clichés on the run before they know what’s hit them. Tell them not to let the door hit them on their way out. What crosses the mind of your average eagle-eyed editor when a cliché-laden manuscript lands on his desk? Dollars to doughnuts, he’ll get madder than a wet hen. Chances are, at the very least, he’ll tell the writer in no uncertain terms never to darken his door again.

Fighting the good fight against clichés can take the wind out of your sails on any given working day, but there’s no question in my mind that working like a dog to rid the world of clichés is taking the linguistic high road. When you get right down to brass tacks, the herculean task of wiping clichés—and the horse they rode in on—off the face of the earth is as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. But only if you adopt a take-no-prisoners approach to your work. Do that, and those hard-to-please editors will not only sing your praises, they will beat a path to your door.

About the Author

William Jeanes

William Jeanes is the former editor-in-chief and publisher of Car and Driver magazine.

Here is the link to the original article.

P.S. There’s a cliche’ contest on the host site. Maybe you’re up for the challenge?