Sing Us A Song…

He is 73, and he takes the stage. He runs a hand through his shock of white hair, exposing strands of tendons attached to wiry but impressive biceps. His T-shirt stretches tight over a broad and lean chest. His jeans make his torso look more like an upside-down triangle than a rectangle. He slings the electric guitar to the front and, with aged hands, slams a chord that fills the arena. 

His friend is already on stage. The friend is 75, and he sits at a piano. He is a bit thicker than the guitar player but still spry enough to pull off a few moves on stage. His hands are thicker, softer, and less callous than the thin man’s. And unlike his friend with white spikes, the piano man is bald.  

They didn’t play new songs. They hadn’t written any for decades. But as the sounds of their music permeated the minds of nearly 60,000 of us, we didn’t care. The knowledgeable hands, the ancient voices, and the decades-old jokes were as fresh and vital as when they were written in the seventies, eighties, and nineties.  

Last weekend, I settled into section 141 in Allegiant Stadium and listened to Billy Joel and Sting tear up the stage. I reflected on their careers. Both men had dedicated themselves to understanding one task, one vocation: music. And they did it so well that we offered them a premium. Their bodies played their songs without hesitation. Their muscle memory was perfect.  

I think I want to be like them as a writer. I still want to pack stadiums with people who read my books when I retire. And to follow through with my dream, I need to start immediately, not tomorrow. I need to eat, breathe, and drink novels. I need to quote them, take them out with me wherever I go, and talk with them nonstop. I need to write every day. Novels must permeate my being.  

Both Billy Joel and Sting may have entered the pop-rock scene as punks who knew three chords, but both are classically trained musicians. Both are, as Sting says, ‘sophisticated’ songwriters. They learn the craft and play with it—tinker with theory. They try new things and perfect the old.  

What is your dream? Where do you see yourself in five, ten, or twenty years? Start now. Write. Read. Obsess or go home. The written word is magic and worth our best efforts. Don’t let down the craft, and don’t disappoint yourself. Work hard, train yourself, and you may find yourself like the Piano Man and Sting.  

Not all views expressed are those of every member of ICW.