Now Playing: The Argument I Had with Myself About Accidentally Writing a Song

The rain has passed. It’s cooled enough that I’m back on the porch, writing. My street is quiet except for the sound of children a street over, and the sound of birds wondering if it’s time for me to wind down.

I keep slapping this poem I’m working on with my metaphorical slipper, because it is trying way too hard to be a Broadway song, and listen, Word Raccoon is not out here writing musicals.

We have not been hired to write the book to a musical.
There is no return on that investment. (And I don’t just mean money.)
We are not Disney.
We are not even Off-Off-Off-Off-Off Broadway.
We are… me. In workout pants. On my porch. With my notes app.

Do I even know how to write a musical? What am I going to do, put it in a drawer next to the other songs I literally dream up?

I write novels. And poetry. (Fine. A lot of poetry these days.) Those are respectable genres.

Yes, I veer. Yes, I ramble.
But I know my lane!

…And then, of course, the damn thing sings back now (oh yes, I’m hearing the lyrics AND the music. Because of course I am:

You’re the key to my / Locked drawer

I mean…stawp!! It even (Word Raccon is clapping but I have my hand over my eyes) uses Puccini in the lyrics!

I’m more than a little embarrassed, but I promise if you heard the whole thing you’d see it’s a little stronger than that line above.

And it rhymes, too. Naturally. Which means now it HAS to be a song. And now it tells me it’s only the first song of something bigger. Dammit.

So, I guess I’m writing a song now.
Maybe a demo. (I’ve recorded snippets of it into my voice app.)
Maybe a whole musical.

Word Raccoon, what have you done?

Don’t mind her, she’s in the corner sucking down Coke Zero and giggling.

TBH, we are BOTH really enjoying the song, wondering what the story might be if it did turn into a musical. (It might be tragedy. We hates tragedies. Except Hamlet, and we only like it because it’s so witty and angsty. And because we know it so well.)

The house was filled with the sound of Barry playing bass tonight. He will be filling in for a band he sometimes subs for this Saturday night in Ohio. I have an appointment with my writing; I might just try the night vibe at that newer coffeehouse uptown.

Related:

I had a Zoom call today with a first cousin twice removed on my maternal side, a total delight. He’s writing a book about the Rife/Ryfe/Riffe family (we contain multitudes and I’m barely exaggerating), and this was our first time talking. I didn’t know he existed until he reached out. I’m so glad he did.

That’s the side of the family I don’t know at all because my grandfather and his daughter, my grandmother’s sister, died tragically in a car accident that my grandmother and her mother survived. My great-grandmother was remarried by the time I was born, so I bonded with my grandpa Adkins.

To me, he was my grandfather. He always carried Horehound candy in his pocket, and I ate it though I hated it. He called me “Honey” and had me sit beside him while he watched his “shows.” I watched him instead because he was such a character. He had thick white hair that stood on end. He rolled his cigarettes, generously moistening them with his tongue so they would stay closed. He was stooped from the mine he had worked in. He never raised his voice. He always wore clean white tees. He never went to church with grandma, and I never asked why not. So yeah…he was my grandpa, though not by blood.

But it’s exciting to learn new things about people who share your DNA, too.

I didn’t expect to feel such a strong connection to my newfound cousin, but I did. I’m genuinely excited for what he is working on, and was thrilled to learn details to a side of the family I’ve never thought to research.

UNRELATED:

So John Green made a video I couldn’t wait to share. I was convinced it was new. I nearly alerted the group chat. (If only I had group chat interested in John Green. Anyone want to sign up? Anyone?)

I watched it. I laughed.

And then I realized…

It’s from two years ago.

Which honestly sounds perfectly Word Raccoon.

Still interested? Here ya go. (Watch to the end. As one commentor said, I’m pretty sure John was about to run tell his and Hank’s mom on Hank. And maybe he did.)

I was also late to the party for this little ditty, which made me rethink broccoli casseroles and laugh snort in bed. That’s some big-time internet drama!

While I did indeed write a very rough draft of the song I mentioned above, I also wrote a couple of short poems today and revised a couple more. Even the one I thought I couldn’t bear to revise, I managed to.

I thrust three poems out into the cruel world to see what their fate might be. It’s better to take a chance, duckies.

The birbs are telling me it’s time to wrap it up. It’s Thursday here, though you won’t read this until Friday at the earliest, sweeties. Thank you for stopping by.

And if you’re in Indiana, don’t forget the tomatoes are ripe! Ready your toasters and make some tomato sandwiches while you can. Psst…mayo is the only way to go.