Songwriting 101

In honor of National Music in Schools Week, I'm supposed to be rhapsodizing about the power of music in our lives.  Given that I met my husband in my church choir, given that my husband's fondest dream would be to produce first-chair trumpet-playing heirs, I was feeling quite enthusiastic about this topic until I sat down to write and my three-year-old began singing "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" in full voice.   

Give my kids (most kids) a song, and they will sing it -- over and over and over again.  My daughter came home from school the other day, excited about a coin-sorting ditty set to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."  Sadly, I have to say I that we all found this to be an improvement over full score of "Annie," which we've enjoyed in an endless feedback loop since I took her to see her first musical two months ago.  In desperation, my husband tried introducting her to "Guys and Dolls," which has resulted in many questions such as, "Mommy, is it illegal to play craps in the United States?"  Ah, teachable moments.   

Kate is also fond of making up her own lyrics.  Here's a gem from last week:
"I am cleaning up, cleaning up...  Why do Patrick and I have to do all the work around here?" 

She told me the other day, "I wish I could write down the notes to "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" on a piece of paper."  Unfortunately, she has yet to learn to read music, let alone write it.  And I realized, as I was explaining to her why we had to wait for her daddy to get home and help her, that precious few of us -- even those who do read music -- know how to scribble out a few bars. 

I was reminded of those bumper stickers that say, "If you can read this [musical score], thank a music teacher."  While most of us have great appreciation for music, our literacy is often sadly lacking.  My daughter baked brownies yesterday and then sat down to draw a picture and write a story about the experience.  Unfortunately, she couldn't (physically) write a song if she wanted to.  It is my determination (and hers) that someday she will have the skills she needs to write anything she wants!

When I ask my college students whether anyone writes in his/her spare time, typically I hear disgruntled murmurs.  But when I ask whether anyone writes music, I always have at least two or three enthusiastic respondents. Lyrics = poetry, and one of the most refined and difficult forms, at that.  Someday soon, I will try a songwriting exercise, which I think will be a great hit.

Check out this post and terrific exercises from the National Writing Project.  (And please support the NWP, which is facing a dire financial crisis.)

The tune of the moment is now, "If You're Happy and You Know It."  Wishing everyone a happy Monday and a terrific week! -- Jeanne Marrie

 

Writing by Numbers

My daughter is four and a half.  I remember being four and a half.  Now I know without a doubt that when I make her cry, someday she will recall and truly be scarred for life.  Aagh!

I had always some compunction about letting my children believe in Santa, because Santa confused the heck out of me when I was a kid.  Yes, Santa is real and you never see him.  And God?  The same.  Only God really is real, and my parents were lying about Santa and...  well, am I alone here? 

Tonight I was lying beside Kate as she drifted off to sleep, and she asked, "Mommy, how does God know what we want?"  And I said, "Well, we ask him when we pray.  He can't always give us what we want, but He always tries to do what's best for us because He loves us."  Of course I got the inevitable response: "Why?"  And I said, lamely, "Well, sometimes what we want isn't good for someone else, so God hears our prayers, but He can't answer them the way we want him to."  And Kate chimed in immediately, "Oh!  Like when when we get mad at each other... we both want different things, and we can't both have them."  Now, this coming from a child who thinks she should ALWAYS have what she wants (and is off the charts in such personality traits as intensity, sensitivity, and negative persistence) -- I was just floored that she grasped this concept.

Perhaps I am deluding myself into thinking that Kate has an unusually vivid imagination, but she told me the other day, "Mommy, I love words.  I love to write."  Ah, just what a writer mommy wants to hear!  Like all her friends, she has also recently developed a keen interest in story. 

This week she asked me why the other reindeer didn't want to play with Rudolph.  I said they weren't being very nice because he was different.  She said, "But he was shining his nose on them, and the light probably bothered them."  Hm.  The next day she was asking me about the words to "Frosty, the Snowman" (which for some reason I can never recall).  Specifically, she wanted to know about his "bloody nose."  I said, "Oh, no, honey, it's a BUTTON nose."  She said, "But that doesn't make sense.  Didn't they know about carrot noses?"  She was also very eager to know what we were doing to celebrate Hanukkah.  (I think she was very interested in the gelt.  I almost bought a dreidel but we are, after all, still eating Halloween candy.)  Recently she defined the word "warm" to me as "hottish/coldish."

These glimpses I get into the thought processes of my daughter -- and my son, and their friends -- are fascinating in that they show me:

1) How much most two-year-olds and four-year-olds are alike developmentally.
2) How little most two- and four-year-olds are like temperamentally.

I watch little kids say the same first words, tell the same knock-knock jokes, become entranced with the same catch phrases ("eyeballs" is a favorite fixation of late, among other unmentionables).  The commonality of human nature is awesome.  The difference between a three-year-old and a four-year-old is equally amazing.  Anyone who is writing for children must, at all times, be keenly aware of this dichotomy.

When I met my future husband, he was teaching fourth grade and was deeply involved in the National Writing Project.  As a former psychology major, I wholeheartedly the idea of teacher research and evidence-based methodology, of embracing what works and rejecting what does not.  As a novice teacher, I am also deeply indebted to their website:
http://www.nwp.org/

If you haven't visited recently, whether you are a teacher or a writer -- or both -- it's a valuable bookmark to add to your collection.

Gingerbread House - Kate & Jim Ford

($10 Wal-Mart Kit; Memories -- priceless)

Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa -- and congrats, Esther!!

JM