How I became a songwriter

Dear Molly,

One of our conversations on Friday made me start thinking about my journey of writing songs, and I thought, "I should write this down so I'll remember it."  So, since you're probably the only other person who's also interested in hearing it, you are the recipient.

I remember distinctly when I first became a songwriter, although I can't remember exactly when it was.  However, based on other events that happened before and after this one, I believe I was either seven or eight.  In other words, my statement the other day that it started before I knew you was most likely false.  I'm sorry.  Anyway, I believe I had just gotten out of the shower.*  Rushing to my room, I grabbed a pencil and started writing furiously as the lyrics appeared in my head.  When I had finished that night, I counted up my songs and discovered that I had written six.  I tucked my notebook into my the case of my NIV Adventure Bible so that I wouldn't miss it if inspiration happened to strike during church the next morning.  Sunday night, I persuaded my best friend to "write a song with me," which consisted of me writing a few lines and then asking her what she thought.  I sent it home with her that evening.

Sadly, as far as I know, none of these precious manuscripts were preserved.  However, I can remember the chorus to my favorite one.  It went something like this:
"You are awesome, Jesus
Awesome, Jesus,
Awesome, Jesus,
Awesome."

Get the point?  :)

The songwriting craze faded out as quickly as the fervor that had driven me to write those first songs had arrived.  In fact, in fourth grade, my friend found the song that I'd written with her input, taught it to her younger cousin, and sang it for me.

"I like it." she told me.

I shrugged.  Since I was no longer consumed with enthusiasm over the fact that I could write songs, I was able to listen objectively.  And, in case you were wondering, I wasn't impressed.

"It's okay, I guess." was all I could say.

Several years passed.  In that time, I never thought I'd go back to writing songs.  I was, however, steadily becoming more and more enamored with writing in other genres.  If you were to shadow me in any of my social interactions, you'd find me critiquing grammar or rephrasing sentences in order to make sure I understood what the other person what saying.  My head was full of characters, plot-lines, and words, and I liked it that way.  If you'd asked me, I would have freely admitted to you that I loved writing.  But writing songs was out of the question:  I didn't consider myself to be a good enough musician.

My second attempt to write songs came when I thought I was going to be in a band with some of my friends.  One of them said, "I can put chords together, but lyrics are really hard.  Do you think you could come up with something?"

"Great!"  I thought.  "If I'm the lyricist, then our songs will always have correct spelling and grammar."

I also had some other thoughts that were not quite so positive.  Thoughts like, "How do you write songs, anyway?" Or, worse yet, "What if I can't write anything worth singing?"  Honestly, these thoughts outnumbered the positive ones by such a large margin that I usually forgot how much I loved correct spelling and grammar.

Although I was terrified, I started writing lyrics again.  Most of them were awkward and faltering attempts, but I was at least trying again.  In the process, I figured something out: songs were good stress relievers.  I already knew that listening to music could change my attitude, but when I was angry or sad or lonely, I found myself searching for my songwriting notebook.  Putting the feelings into words lessened their intensity, and allowed me to look them in the face. I'd think, "In a few months, this song will make me laugh because I'll think it's ridiculous." and I'd start to feel better.

For a while, that was all songwriting was for me- an escape, a coping mechanism, and something so personal that I would have shuddered at the thought of ever showing my songs to anyone.

The story gets fuzzy here, because I'm not sure exactly what prompted me to start sharing what I'd written.   Anyway, at some point I realized that I wasn't going to get any better unless I let someone else see what I'd written.  I do know that I chose to share one with you because:
1)  You write good songs
2)  You are kind, so I figured your opinions wouldn't come across as harsh.
3)  You had been hinting that Allison and I should start writing songs.

Of course, I still wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea of sharing songs that I'd written while I was in a bad mood.  Instead, I decided to write a worship song, and in the process of creating something that wasn't inextricably linked to unhappy memories, I discovered that songwriting was fun.  It still is.

That's the story, and one that will probably keep evolving as I keep writing.  Hope you've enjoyed!

Love,
Julianne


*Why is it that good ideas always come to me in the shower?  It's awkward.

It has been quite long
Since I posted in haiku
That's about to change.

The Beauty in My Lap

Something exciting happened in my life last week.

As those of you who are acquainted with me (which, I believe, is all of you) will know, this is not an uncommon occurrence.  I tend to get excited about lots of things:  guacamole, snow, and standardized tests, just to name a few.  Indeed, the "something" that I'm going to tell you about is one of many things that made me giddy with anticipation recently. So, even though I attended an amazing surprise party, a Bible quiz, and got to hold my friend's baby for the first time (by the way, I think that's the first time I've ever said that.) in the past seven days, I'm not going to elaborate on any of those events.

No, the subject of this post (and possibly the sole reason I haven't been posting) is this beautiful instrument:

Terrible quality, I know.   Also, it's a selfie.   I'm sorry about that, but I thought it was better than nothing.

It's on loan from friends for as long as I need it, and Allison and I have been enjoying playing with it.  Note the added preposition.  It was purposefully placed in that very spot, because I do not mean that we have been playing it.  It has, however, proven to be a very fun toy.  :)
As you might have guessed from the previous paragraph, I have much to learn.  However, Molly has been very graciously trying to help me figure things out.

Molly's Music Academy, lesson #1:  This is the wrong way to hold a guitar.  Thanks, Molly!  :)

So, that's what's new with me.  :)  What were you excited about in the last week?

February: The month in review

On top of the world, headed for vacation.  I got a window seat.  :)

50th anniversary!

Vacation and sunshine.  :)

I am to the point where I only have to wear my retainers at night...  I'm free to drink tea again!  To celebrate, I bought some Earl Grey at Trader Joe's.

Started reading a book about goals and aspirations...  And received this fortune at a Chinese restaurant.  I liked it.

Crepes for Daddy's birthday!

Selfie with the bestie.  Also, some lovely windblown hair on my head.  :p

Love Before First Sight

Now that I'm back, I thought I'd share a blog post I started writing in mid-January.  Somewhere along the line, I had the idea that it would be good for the week around Valentine's Day.  It was a nice thought, but it didn't work on account of my procrastination and the fact that I was on vacation.  So, after revisiting and finally finishing it, I have decided to share it anyway.  :)




     I pre-ordered my first c.d. in January:  Fading West by Switchfoot.  In my usual overly-excited manner, I listened to the three songs that were available, and made myself happy by pushing the "Show Complete Album" button on Itunes.
     I know, it sounds like a sad life.  For some people, it probably would be, but I am not one of those people.  I loved looking at the song list, imagining what the songs would sound like, guessing which ones would be my favorites.
     "'Let It Out' sounds like it has promise," I thought, hearing a melody with those lyrics that sounded more like a Josh Groban line than a Switchfoot chorus.  That was okay.  Part of the excitement was in the not knowing, and I trusted Jon Foreman not to let me down.
     He didn't.  "Let It Out" is one of my favorite songs on the album, and that's saying quite a bit because it's a great album.  "It was love at first sight for me with this song.  Or should that be love before first listen?" I thought the other day.  In case you're wondering why I was thinking this, well, I can't be 100% sure why I think anything. However, in this case, I'm almost certain that I was trying to come up with something, anything, to keep me from breaking out into some embarrassing dance moves to the music only I could hear.
     My motives for thinking aside, I quickly realized that thought wasn't accurate.  In actuality, I loved that song before first time I heard it.  Admittedly, the first love was entirely different from the second, but it was there nonetheless.
     That thought led to another:  "You know," I said to myself, even though I obviously did already know what I was thinking, "That's what I want for my future marriage."  Any two people can create a story where they fall for one another's looks, personality, smile, smarts, smell, or whatever else causes people to fall in love at a certain time.  I want to love before first sight, to say, "I don't know who he is, or what he's like, but I'm so excited about the fact that we're going to be together someday that I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that I can love him in the best way possible when he finally comes along."
     It's a good thing that's the kind of sentiment that is best expressed by actions, because I'm not sure that I have the breath capacity for a run-on sentence of that length.  What are these actions I'm talking about?  Well, one is being pure and guarding my heart, because I don't want there to by anything superficial and jaded about our relationship.  Others would include improving my relationships with my family that I live with now, learning skills that I need in order to be prepared to live away from my parents (read: cooking.), praying for him, and trusting his (and my) Creator not to let us down, because He never has.
     This is where the analogy stretches itself out even further.  It occurred to me that "love before first sight" should really be the story of my entire life.  Because, from an eternal perspective, this is really just another waiting period.
     The purchase of my salvation has already been made; my future has been created by the God I've come to trust while I'm here.  Earthly reality, for me, should be a time of preparation for and anticipation of the time when I will finally see my Savior- an experience that will far surpass anything I'll ever experience in this life.
   

"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known.  But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.  Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure."

~1 John 3:2-3

Where's Julianne?

Hey!  I'm so happy to see you that I posted a strange selfie!

Perhaps you've been wondering where I've been.  There are a couple of answers.  Physically, I've been on vacation and then getting back into the groove of life after vacation.  As far as cyber world is concerned, I have been on an unplanned vacation from this blog.  I have been blogging, though.  If you want to see my posts, you can check out the new blog that my friend and I started: Anna North Writes.

Another, more weird, selfie.  Please notice the dress.  I purchased it while I was on vacation.  I probably shouldn't tell you this, because I really do love it, but I've taken to affectionately calling it my "Where's Waldo?" dress.

Now, you may or may not remember that I have a goal of posting an average of once a week on this blog for the year.  In order to meet this goal, I'm going to have to post a little more often in the short-term in order to make up for the three weeks that I didn't post anything.  So don't worry, the frenzied posting isn't going to last forever.  :)

If you'll excuse me, I have some writing to do.  :)

Bye!

A forgotten sandwich

I forgot my lunch today.

It might be the first time in my life, I'm not sure.  Truthfully, I haven't had many opportunities accomplish this feat, because for all my life the kitchen has been a few steps away the entire time I'm doing school.  

That sorry excuse didn't affect Allison, who remembered her lunch.

Thankfully for me, my mom is awesome and dropped my lunch off at work.  One of my co-workers brought it to me.  Later, while I was happily munching, the same co-worker said, "Julianne, are you the favored child?  Is that why your mom only brought lunch for you?"

I laughed, "No, in this case, it's that Allison was the more responsible child and remembered her lunch."

This random conversation brought to you, courtesy of the fact that I didn't have any other ideas for a blog post this week.

Sincerely,
My mom's favorite child.  :)

The Story of My Stationery

OR,

Imposters, Stalkers, Hampsters, OR WORSE.

(A guest post by Molly, for Molly.)

2-28-2012

Julianne,

Do you like my new stationery?  During our last homeschool group while someone was talking, I began doodling (as normally happens in the aforementioned circumstance).  I drew a nutcracker using the one on our mantle as a model and I drew a butterfly and some random wavy lines.  When I rediscovered the notebook today, I decided it would make pretty stationery.  I made copies and voila! now you know the story behind the paper you are now reading!

Anyway, so excited to see you later today!  Miss you!

BTW- today is National Pancake Day!

See you soon!  YPPAF,

*it should be noted that the original does, indeed, include my full name.  However, due to previously stated concerns, I am not going to publish it here.

Since I'm interrupting anyway, I'm going to explain my abrupt change in backgrounds on the next one...  #8 was much too long to type onto my picture of her stationery, so I took a little creative license.  :)  Don't panic, the regular formatting will return very soon.

I hope you have enjoyed this book.  I also hope that you have learned

1. There's no such thing as a normal stalker
2. A hampster is not necessarily an impostor unless it claims to be a guinea pig.
3. Beware stalkers, impostors, facebook stalkers, hampters, enemy spies...

Sweet Season

It goes like this:

I'm participating in a songwriting challenge with some of my homeschool friends.  Every week, we receive a prompt via email containing a subject for that week's song.  A couple of weeks ago, the challenge was, "Write a song including the word, 'Snowflake.'"

"Great!"  I thought.  Lovely word, is it not?  And, with all the crazy weather that's been happening recently, I definitely shouldn't have been lacking inspiration.

I was.

Forget brainstorming and choosing the best idea.  I couldn't even come up with one.  Then, when I did, it wasn't a song.

So, dear blog readers, to you I bequeath this work of my brain, as a sort of consolation to myself for failing that week's challenge.  Whether this is to your fortune or misfortune, you decide.  :)

Snowflake on my tongue*

Wind sings in my ears

Every winter brings

Enjoyment of its own.

Trees enrobed in ice

Sparkle in the sun

Each one, oh, so bright

And I just close my eyes.

Smile.

On my tongue a

New snowflake has arrived.

*Do you see how I got that word out of the way from the very beginning? ;)

In case you're wondering about the plan

^This doodle has nothing to do with the post,
but I needed some graphics.  :)

During devos last week, I came across a striking quote in My Utmost For His Highest.  I know, I know, it's not the first time.  And, since I'm intending to actually read it all the way through from January 1- December 31 this year, it's probably not going to be the last.  Anyway, here it is:

"Have you been asking God what He is going to do?  He will never tell you.  God does not tell you what He is going to do- He reveals to you who He is." (Oswald Chambers)

My first thought was, "I wish I'd read this earlier."  I wish I'd read it in tenth grade, when the perfectionistic planner inside began to feel uneasy that I still had no idea about my college major.  Or, it would have been nice during my senior year, when I'd cry out to God, "I want to do Your will.  Please, just show me what that is!"

I've been asking the wrong questions.

You see, what I'm really desiring when I say, "Show me Your plan!" is not a knowledge of God's will for my life.  I know, it certainly sounds like that's what I'm asking.  I even had myself fooled.  But there's something else going on.  Do you want to know what it is?  (Hope so, 'cause I'm gonna tell you anyway.)

What I'm really asking for is the comfort I've always known.  The comfort of plans and schedules, and being able to say, "On Sunday I go to church," or, "On Friday I get to see my friends!"

In essence, I've been praying for God to give me a reason to be prideful when people ask me about my future plans.  I wanted Him to give me an answer that would make them walk away thinking, "Wow.  That girl really has her life together." instead of forcing me to admit that I'm as fragile and dependent upon my circumstances as everyone else.

And God, in His infinite and loving wisdom, refused to give into my whining.  Yes, He has plans for me, and He could have chosen to reveal them, but He said "No."

No, because plans are, after all, a flimsy substitute for the comfort only He can bring.
No, because I need to learn to walk humbly with Him.
No, because if I knew what was going to happen in my life, I'd miss out on a great opportunity to learn lessons about His character.
No, because I need to trust Him...

I think it's probably safe to assume that most of us are wondering about the plan in at least one area of our lives.  I certainly am, but you know what?  God can raise the dead.  He can transform our times of uncertainty into certainty about Him.

It's a wonderful place to be.

An apologetic letter to my blog

Well, hey!  It's been a while.
Do you remember me?
I totally understand if you don't.  I mean, I'm just the person who created you and all.
Seriously, I know how easy it is to forget your creator if they aren't visible.
The difference between us, of course, is that your creator has been totally absent, whereas mine never is.
You have a better excuse.

I've been thinking.
It's not good for you to be alone this much.
It's also not good for me to be under a lot of pressure to post on you.  You're fun and all, but there are days when I simply don't have time.  Lots of days.
So I came up with a solution.
What if I try to post on you once a week, on average?
Would that curb some of your loneliness?
Would you finally believe that I care about you?
Would that dry some of your invisible tears?
Do blogs even cry?  Somehow, I doubt it.  Oh, well, it's a good thing that you have such a great understanding of metaphors.  That's something I appreciate about you.

I'm going to close now, before this gets even more ridiculous.

Lovingly,
Julianne

P.S.  Did I mention that my camera is broken?  I didn't?  Well, it is.  So we're going to have to put up with whatever pictures I can manage to take with my webcam.  I'm sorry.  You deserve better.