I am not normally the kind of person one would consider a blogger, but then again, I’m not the kind of person one would think of as a writer either. I didn’t spend my life dreaming of writing the great American novel; nor did I didn’t think to myself, “I have such a wonderful voice that I need to be immortalized in print.” Nope, that was not me. But since the first time I wrote lyrics to a song I wrote at nine, or ten, or eleven—I don’t quite remember when—I could write. It took me decades to understand what I being able to write meant and what I was capable of.
The first song I wrote wasn’t even my idea, I was forced into it by the incessant prodding of a drummer I played guitar with in a band when I was young. So I wrote a song. Writing music came easy to me. I remember the first song I wrote, the chords on the verse were C-G-D-F, one measure each with a funk based rhythm, then I did something unusual, the reasons why still allude me, but I added a 5th measure to the phrase … as a hook. Looking back, I have no idea how I knew what the hell a hook was, but it pulled you in, it built tension, it made you anticipate a release to the next phrase. So we had a chorus, we needed a verse. I knew that the major chords sounded “upbeat” to me, and the music I liked, the stuff that really compelled me, it always had an edge. I’m a sucker for the edge. So I needed a minor chord, maybe some 7ths. Am-E-G7-D … and then back to that hooky F for two bars. The structure was pretty traditional, intro-chorus-verse-chorus-verse-solo-verse-chorus-outro. It wasn’t until years later that I came to appreciate that as a nine- or ten-year-old, I understood structure on an instinctive level.
The next song I co-wrote, the lyrics were written by the drummer, and I remember them to this day. The song was a story about a drug addict that was leaving his girlfriend rather than change his life—yes the kid that wrote this was only ten or eleven too. Different chords, different structure, different groove, but what really hit me were my friend’s lyrics, he was ten and he had written a legitimate grown up story. A few days later, he wanted me to write a song, and I remember saying “I can’t write,” but I took out a notebook and a pen—yes, I’m that old—and I wrote a song. It just came to me. The song was depressing enough that I’ve still never played it for anybody other than the drummer.
As I grew older, I played with more talented musicians. Their skill level began to challenge me, it began to open my eyes to what could be. I also learned something that surprised me: that great musicians can’t necessarily write. Writing is a talent onto itself, and while I am a musician, what I really was, who I was, was a writer. That’s my gift. Lyrics and music of any kind, it all came easy to me. I could write jazz, rock, classical, and I could combine them into something new, in a way that was catchy and palatable, but I still had no idea I could write a book. It seems odd to me now, but the notion had never even occurred to me.
My process took me from writing music, to writing screenplays, to writing novels. There are an infinite amount steps that led from C-G-D-F-F to THE LAST INTERROGATION the short film, THE LAST INTERROGATION the feature length script, to THE LAST INTERROGATION the novel. This blog, THE PROCESS is going to cover my journey. No two journeys are the same, and no two writers are the same. What I have done is unique to my set of experiences. Though I know your experiences will differ, I hope you will find empathy in the stories of my struggle to get to this point.
Whatever your process is, whatever makes you a writer, realize that you do have something to say … and someone wants to read it.
Know in your heart, that you are not alone.
