I’m writing an album. There, I said it. Well, technically I wrote it. Not the album, just that I wrote I am writing one. Perhaps more precisely, I typed that I’m writing it. This is something I’ve been dreaming about doing for quite some time. It’s difficult. And I’m incredibly scared.

Writing an album is a concept that’s been floating around in my head and on various to-do lists for a decade or more, but I had yet to really start it. Fear is a big scary thing. I had this desire that I mentally pushed away, storing it in a tote somewhere in the garage, on half-finished lines folded away and hidden in a book, or completely drowned out with a wall of noise. But it sat there on my mental shelf, a bad film just wanting to be watched by someone.

I only wish I knew what I was doing. But let’s suppose that’s some of the fun of it.

A Little History

Music has always been a thing for me, not so much creation, but consumption. I remember hiding under my bed in 2^nd grade, listening to Thriller on an old cassette recorder, while taping the liner to the underside of the old wooden frame. I was introduced to Run DMC in 3^rd grade and stayed up entirely too late many nights of 4^th grade devouring Appetite for Destruction and …And Justice for All while simultaneously playing what are now considered classic NES games.

It wasn’t until I was seventeen that I asked for a guitar for my birthday. My parents frighteningly agreed—reluctant, if not for the standard reasons for buying a teenager an electric guitar—and my dad found an ad in The Trader for a guitar and practice amp for $100. It was horribly wonderful.

I played and played.

I didn’t write a song until I was nineteen. To date, in the sixteen years of playing guitar, I’ve only written perhaps six songs and only recorded demos for three. And of those three, only one was recorded by me. I don’t know what gives me the idea that I could pull this off. I only know that I need to do this.

Just Starting

The hardest part was actually starting something. Not just kind of starting, but really starting. For far too long, all I did was shuffle around the same partial ideas or organize yet another “someday” list. I never did sit down to do any actual writing. Now, I have.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve sat down for hour or so blocks, two or three times a week, to do some free writing. It’s not easy. And most everything I’ve written is horrible, terrible, no good or very bad. There are, however, a couple of lyric worthy phrases and, overall, I have a more solidified idea of what I want this to be. I have almost become encouraged. It’s time to pick up the guitar and start listening for melodies and possibly stringing together something that may resemble music.

Into the Fog…

If my fear of not knowing how to write a song is overwhelming, then my fear of not knowing how to record what I write is indescribable. This is quite possibly because I’ve not spent much time on multi-track recording. I may manage by fumbling through it, but I also have a dear friend who has offered to help. And I honestly can’t wait to be able to take him up on that offer. For now, I must get back to my steno notepad, which may be half full, but it’s only the start.