Lyric Book
For a long time I’d write my songs on whatever was closest at the time. Scraps of notebook paper, the back of advertisements—even a few on napkins. It wasn’t ‘til a couple years ago that I started using a journal-type lyric book. I’d had it for years but, except for a brief period in college, have always opted for the “random napkin” approach.
The organizational benefits of using one aside, a lyric book is great because it’s a constant reminder of how my creative process actually works. When I’m trying to write something new, my natural tendency is to scribble a few lines, dislike them, stack them up against the best lyrics of my old songs, and then REALLY hate them.
What I completely forget about is that nothing is ever birthed completed. The reality of my process is that I’ll write twenty lines to get one I like, and even that one will probably get significantly tweaked. For some reason, my mind—looking to demoralize me into never writing again, apparently—wants me to believe the songs I’ve written and like were all created effortlessly. This is especially hard to remember when it’s been a while since I wrote, and I worry the well has gone dry.
The lyric book is proof the things I now love started off exactly like whatever new piece I presently hate. Thus, when I write something I think is lousy, I’m not discouraged…I just think, “Great, I’m on the right track, because this is how it works.”
I would be well served to find a way to keep a “lyric book” for more of the things in my life.
