Day 4: Writer's Block
In a conversation with my favorite co-writer, I told him about all the time I've been spending in Paris lately (reading Les Miserables... which... takes even longer to read when you're reading it ten minutes at a time) and the glimmerings of a new song idea. This song wouldn't be a Christmas song--it would be for some other future project, and I wanted to call it... well, I still might write it, so I'll leave that for another day.
At the time I was suffering the great panic of writer's block. If you've seen the movie "The Man Who Invented Christmas", imagine Charles Dickens sitting at his desk, staring into space with wild eyes and blank pages before him. Everything he goes through in that film is what writer's block feels like. With the pressure of looming deadlines and passing days, writer's block is like being the owner of an empty well, and instead of digging a new one somewhere else or noticing a friend standing next to you offering you a glass of water from their well, unable to look away, you stare and sink into the dark well directly before you. Dramatic, I know, but finding a rounded idea that takes ahold of you at such a time--when you start to wonder if you'll ever write another word in your life--is a comforting relief. To put it mildly.
(Of course, if you ever struggle with writer's block, I don't recommend staring into the emptiness. It's an easy thing to fall into, but for me, I've found the answer usually lies in lifting my eyes to look around and outward. It lies in doing something or tryingsomething different. Going somewhere new, hiking, finding a new place to write--it could be a mile up a mountain path or as close as the backyard, free-writing about anything at all without the pressures of a finished shine, having conversations and listening deeply, leaning into other writers for support... Which brings us back to that original conversation.)
Next thing I knew, I had a song with "Paris" in the title waiting for me in my inbox.
My first, knee-jerk reaction was to be a little miffed because someone else had written my song.
Then I read the lyrics and found it wasn't what I was expecting at all. It wasn't the song I'd been talking about. It was something else, and I quickly fell in love with the lovely, lonely night in the story. After reading it a few times, I took Bellamy out of his case and began the hunt for the melody. Now the only thing I'm upset about is that I didn't write it! (Well, other than a handful of words.)
This song also broke the writer's block. It helped me turn my focus, and it took some of the self-made pressure off because I knew we would have at least one song for that upcoming recording session.
"For Paris" was one of my favorites to bring to the studio. The short intro sets you on the streets of Paris, passing by musicians at a corner cafe... The steady acoustic guitar finding its moments, the mandolin sparkling throughout, the violin in harmony, the cymbal swell and soft brushes... Our musicians found the sound.
I would like to live in this song. And I can say that since I didn't write it.
And I'll revisit that other idea at some point, but this is my song about Paris.
Thank you, Allan James, for this gift.
All the love,
Brittany
P.S.
Wintertide
Available November 12
We're one week away...