A couple of years ago Emlyn and I had mutual, temporarily pulled brain muscles, and thought writing a novel each in a month would be a good idea. Cheerios to the loonies at nanowrimo.org who put us up to this. Were our novels crap? Undoubtedly. (Although we have had enough sense/pride not look at them since! So who knows?)
Any who – since walking out on sensible work some years ago, as a marketer (preceeded by the gradual awakening of revulsion towards not only the field of marketing and corporate communication but also many bewildering and unpleasant things found in bureaucracy) have been making modest amounts of money teaching singing and directing choirs.
Over the years I have arranged a number of songs for these choirs. Had a recent project of putting in the extra, fussing time to make these all purdy and gorgeous with Sebalius. Ouch so not native clean/tidy/fussy person. Tonight I have 19 songs arranged for acappella women’s choirs, ready to go. ooh. it’s to be my second book. And this one actually has some substance.
So, the scary thing was deciding to release it for free, thus relinquishing the possibility of becoming a multimillionaire book writer. Slim possibility, I know. Folk song arrangements aren’t often at the top of Best Seller lists. But hey, people buy lotto tickets!
Seems that the explosion of human creativity is something to jump into. onto? Whatever way you wish to jump at an explosion, it’s time to do it. And charging money, trying to find a Fairy God parent/publisher or whatever seem to be barriers to this jumping.
Go forth little songs. Now I just have to figure out the technology to send them forth. (Or more likely wait for Emlyn to sort it out for me. Uxorious, amused, patient, loving just a hint of exasperation that I remain obstinately and inexcusably technophobic in the 21st century.)
Sore head. Bed time. But I have a book. Sitting here beside me. Woot.