Sunday 18 December 2011

Help?

After being in limbo about which professional direction to take as a writer, I've had an epiphany.

Like most sudden realisations, the idea had been staring - no, slapping - me in the face since as long as I could remember. Metaphorically, it was as though one day I'd passed a mirror and stopped to make sense of all the stinging hand prints and big, purple, bruises. Oh, that one was for when I bought my first songbook, I'd say to myself, rubbing a mark on my cheek, and this red patch must have been winning that competition... and that whopper on the end of my nose must have been from that comment from the girl from Prague, which went something like "You are such an inspirational person. There are no words to describe these lyrics... You seem like one of the extraordinary people."


In actual fact, my cheeks are unharmed, and my epiphany happened halfway through a conversation. I've been complaining about the lyrics in chart music for years - how "yeah, yeah, yeah, let's go out tonight", is a pitiful excuse for a chorus, and where in God's name was the depth, or the story? - claiming also, that I could do a much better job, but never had I ever really considered how it would feel if I actually did a better job. How I'd feel hearing my lyrics being blasted through the radio waves instead of the garbage which is out there at the minute.

My actual words were: "Imagine hearing my lyrics on the radio... that would be just... I can't even express it."

Why don't I just do it? I can't put lyrics online without receiving anything but positivity, I've been a front-runner in competitions - the most recent resulting in my winning of the title of "Best Writer" out of a website with 46,951 total members - I've got people telling me I'm talented who live on the other side of the world... Why am I not doing anything with this?

So, returning to the point of this post, I've decided that I'm going to be a lyricist. Notice that doesn't say "hope to be" or any desperate, starry eyed, bullshit, I'm actually going to properly send books of my work off to record labels and make an honest go of this until I make it. Dreams of super-stardom aside, I'd feel so entirely soul satisfied to be completely unknown, and have a pop artist, or boy band, or girl group sing the words I've written instead of bleating on about the same old nights out, and the same old breakups. Let's bring the 80's storytelling lyrics back to pop.

Returning even further to the point of this post... I've titled this "Help?" because as far as physically sending my work off to producers and etc, I'm in need of advice. Especially with the covering letter, and do lyrics need to be in the same format as books when they're being sent away? How far do my lines need to be spaced for notes? Do I need to go through an agency before sending them to labels? I'd appreciate any help I could get, because I've heard so many conflicting opinions from sources which don't have much experience in the area either, and I really want to shed some light on the situation as soon as possible. Thank you to anybody in advance who even as so much as tries to help!!

Please email me on catherine.chapman.cc@gmail.com, or just post a comment if you want to contact me. Thank you!

Sunday 4 December 2011

Braking & Eggs

Inspired like every true Monster of the "Little" kind, by the mind-blowing Marry The Night epic, I've actually got another blog post in the pipeline about a story from my past I've neglected to share with anyone. So, because that's about halfway through and therefore not ready to be put online yet, I felt like writing a little update on my life since so much has happened.

December 1st is officially my lucky day. Not only did I pass my driving test, but I got offered a job. A job! That's right! I'm finally busy going somewhere, at least. Ironically it's a health apprenticeship in a stop smoking service, and that dirty little habit has been something I've picked up recently. I feel like Rebecca Bloomwood - working for the Financial Times and being thousands of pounds in debt at the same time. (The Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella is my favourite series of books ever!)

Honestly, I'm so happy. No, speaking to nicotine addicts over the phone and getting paid less than minimum wage for it isn't exactly how I envisioned my first job to be, but it suits me, I think. I like people and I'm sure I'll hear some stories.

So... my last couple of weeks of being a slob are going to be absorbed by car shopping and Christmas. Oh, and not forgetting the occasional sesh like the one we had last night. Buying that drinking game roulette table was a brilliant idea. (On the flip-side, blasting Heavy Metal Lover at 4am, chain smoking and doing shots like a badass, only to throw up as soon as the song finished was not. My tummy hurts.)