We've all read about Johanna Melaragno's trip home from the retreat. She talked to a woman at the airport whose husband works with Kenny Chesney; her conversation garnered her an invite backstage sometime to meet that cute little hunk in a cowboy hat. Okay, so I might be a tad jealous. After all, Johanna got Kenny Chesney and I got the flu. Calvin came down with the bug the day after we got home from Asheville and 48-hours later, I was sick, too.
Even so, let's think about Kenny Chesney for a bit, not that that's any hardship. How many times do you think he socks that hat on his head while standing in front of a mirror until he gets it just as he wants it? We, of the older set, refer to it as a rakish angle. Or would that be a smoldering angle? Hmm... Even things that look simple require practice, don't they?Like creating characters and storylines; the more we do it, the easier it becomes. Or so I tell myself as I beat my head against the wall trying to pound my characters into submission. But I'm not blogging about writing today. Or am I?
When Kenny straps on that guitar and strums a chord, we have no concept of the number of times he's done that same thing, to say nothing of the hours spent in practice. Like the song lyrics to one of Bryan Adams' songs: Got my first real six-string...Bought it at the five-and-dime...Played it till my fingers bled...Was the summer of '69... We have no clue of the artist's sacrifice and hard work. We only see or hear the beautiful end result.As writers we, too, are artists. We paint with words. We play with passions and sing with similes and syntax. We create. Let's not belittle what we do. Kenny brings us enjoyment; we do the same for our readers.
So, back to my pouting mantra this past week as I swallow an antibiotic or pop-in another cough drop: "Johanna got Kenny Chesney and I got the flu."
9 comments:
Vonnie, sorry about your flu. I attended a workshop once about the 10,000 hour rule. You need 10,000 hours of practice to be good at something. Or for us writers, 1 million words.
Vonnie, Lots of Orange Juice. One good thing about being sick in bed, you don't have to feel guilty about reading all day.
Feel better soon.
Sharon Davidson
Vonnie...I'm really glad I didn't get the flu from you and Calvin, but I'm REALLY ticked that Joanna got Kenney and I got zip while sitting in the Knoxville airport for hours. I had my eyes open as my last book is about a Nashville songwriter.
You are "right on" when you say we create a melody as sure as a songwriter. I wrote both Christian and country years ago, and like novel writing, it's storytelling. Thanks for a fun post. Get well soon.
Vonnie,
Love the post....You are so right we create our words to take our readers into another world
Love you bunches,
Melinda
I always used to chuckle over that line. I too had my fingers bleed when I learned to play the guitar. For me it was a cheap guitar. To press a chord onto a fret took such pressure that my fingers got thick callusses. Then one day I worked and bought my Gibson. Playing was a joy. Just a light touch and my notes flowed. If only I'd had a better guitar when I was young, I probably would be a great player today. But the difficultly discouraged me, so I played less then I wanted to!! LOL! Just thought I'd mention that! Great blog. Love people with talent like Kenny!
Johanna's stroke of good luck = two thumbs up.
The flu for you = bummer!
Hope you feel better soon!
What a neat story Mary! Isn't it funny what life/fate throws at us. If you hadn't had the cheaper guitar, you may not have become a writer, and that would be a sad thing for your fans!
And I have to say sorry for not knowing WHO Kenny is to the next guy in a Stetson (not that there are that many in NZ) but he is one FINE specimen alright : )
Had to add, it's lovely to be able to put a face to the name of my editor. I'd love to have been there with you all. Oh well, there is always next time!
Vonnie, cute post. Sorry you had the flu. I got it and didn't have the fun of the retreat, so I'm jealous. Mine is now bronchitis. Rats! I'd love to attend next year's retreat.
Getting the flu is tough, but you'll get better. Staring at a blank computer sceen and not being able to write anything is tougher.
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