Stage Fright, and the difference between oboes and bassoons

So there I was. About to do my big solo. On my bassoon.

For the record, this is not a bassoon.

This is an oboe.


                  Bassoon ==>

         <==  Oboe:

                  Bassoon ==>




They are both part of the double-reed family, but one is much deeper than the other. They are related. Not the same. Neither of them are too terribly popular, but I don't care. I love my bassoon.

Good. Now that that's cleared up.

I was about to play my bassoon in front of three judges who would decide my future for me. Everything. Right there in that room. That huge, echo-y room. They would tell me if I was going to be in a Bachelor of Music Program or not. They were going to tell me if I could be a composer or not. They were going to tell me if I had any skill in playing this instrument or not.

So naturally, I had little to no nerves leading up to the day of the performance. I mean, I'd only been rejected from the program once before, it's not like there was any added pressure of knowing they'd already deemed me unworthy of the spot. This time was in person! So I could actually watch their faces wrinkle up in pain with every wrong note, or tilt sideways when I started to change speed for no reason.

Nerves? Never heard of them. Stage fright? PSHH!!

So anyway.

I don't think I've ever had such an acute moment of stage fright all my life. That moment had me in a borderline panic attack. I can distinctly remember starting to fail at breathing. I would go to breathe in, and it just wouldn't work. My lungs just decided to take a break for once in my life. Of all the days for them to go on a holiday that was the worst one they could have picked. I remember starting to flub every couple notes. I was starting to flounder. I couldn't look up at them. I had to keep my eyes on the page. I couldn't watch them, or I'd surely burst into a puddle of despair and self-loathing. I just kept staring at the tiny black dots in front of me. Willing my eyes to scan the page farther and farther as my lips started to burn, and my chest started to heave.

Halfway through my most challenging song they showed me mercy, and allowed me to stop. They had evidently heard all they needed to hear. I left that room completely drained, and yet at the same time completely liberated. It was over. I wouldn't have to do it again, or if I did, it wouldn't be for a very long time.

The funny thing is, this was very similar to how I felt sending off my first query letter to an agent. I was terrified of hitting the send key. I kept wondering what would happen when I did it. What would they say? What would they think of me? They don't even know me, what kinds of things will they assume about me based on this? Sometimes the hardest part is just not knowing though. Once I sent off my first letter and found out it was a no, it was almost better than before, when I hadn't sent anything. At least it wasn't a 'what if' anymore. It was a reality, and I could actually deal with it.

That's the thing about the things we're scared of. As long as they're imaginary things, or things that aren't yet real, they can be the most frightening things in the world, and they can paralyze us. But as soon as it becomes tangible, as soon as the fear has become physical, then it's something you can face. It's something you can defeat. I would never have been able to defeat my stage fright if I hadn't gotten up on stage. I would never have learned how to deal with people rejecting my book if I had never sent it out in the first place. It's such a cliche, but it's something that I've seen over and over again in my life, and I can't say enough how true I've found it to be.

The unknown is so much more intimidating than the known. Because the unknown could very well be as bad as you've imagined, but the known can only be as bad as you see it to be. Once you know how bad it is, you can do something about it. Until then, all you can do is cower.

(For the record, I actually didn't make it into a Bachelor of Music, they didn't accept me that time either. I was in a Bachelor of Arts majoring in Music at the U of C. But I came to love the people who were my judges on that jury panel, and one went on to be my second all-time favourite teacher. I do NOT see that audition as a failure, but a signpost pointing towards where God's leading me.)


What's the scariest thing you've ever done?

P.S. I'm sorry to anyone reading this on a mobile device. I can't figure out how to make the pictorial representation of bassoons and oboes look good on a phone and on the web at the same time. I'm a writer and a musician, not a techie. I tried that, it didn't work. 

My Thoughts on Rejections

How many rejections does it take to give up on something? How many times do you need to hear "No" before it sinks in? That's the question I've been asking myself lately. In my quest for literary greatness I never imagined so many people would completely overlook how awesome I am...

Seriously though.

I guess it just hits you harder than you expect it to. When someone tells you they don't want to hire you, or you're told that you didn't make the cut for a scholarship, it hurts. Then life goes on, and you suck it up. But how many times do you have to be told you aren't talented enough to start to believe it? How many times does it take to make you start believing you're just being stubborn? Or blind?

I guess what it comes down to for me, is that I believe in my work, and I will stand by it. I know it's not perfect, but I also don't think it's trash. Who knows, maybe I'm deluded, and I'll never get to quit my day-job. Maybe I'm really not up to snuff, but it's not going to stop me from trying. Not yet anyway.


Sometimes I wonder what people will think when they look at this blog. They may see inconsistency, they may see irrelevancy. They may see repetition, or even just plain bad writing. They may see me as shooting myself in the foot if an agent were to swing by. At the end of the day though, what you see when you come to this blog is exactly what the subtitle says. Writing, publishing dreams, and little bits of me. And you know what? That can get messy. My life has been a roller coaster of craziness these last few months. My sister got married, I spent my first Christmas away from my family, and I survived an apocalypse. What a year. No wonder I haven't been around to post something in a while!


All that to say, I'm realizing more and more that I'm not perfect. I've got lots of dreams that I want to see fulfilled, and I've got no shortage of people telling me they can't happen, or at the very least that they won't be happening today. I've got places I want to go, things I want to see, and people I want to meet. So many in fact, that I'm positive that I won't be able to do them all in my lifetime. It would be a very sad life indeed though to have this many dreams and not hold on to at least a few. So you wanna reject me? Bring it on. You wanna tell me I can't do this? Go ahead. I won't stop you. But you know what?

You're not going to stop me either.