Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Now was different. Nicky had gone from part-time instructor to being my partner in the Initiative, and he’d be in charge for a while starting this Friday. Because at eight PM on Thursday, I was leaving New York behind for a whopping twelve days.
I felt like an uncultured idiot for being nervous about traveling. I wasn’t even leaving the country. But that hadn’t stopped me from packing and repacking my bag three times, not to mention all the times I’d organized my tickets and made sure I had everything in order, including the confirmation from the motel I’d be staying at.
It wasn’t just my vacation and the food festival either. My initial reason for going to Nashville was a music festival. I’d submitted a demo on a whim last year, and we’d been accepted in the first round. We, being the band Nicky and I were part of. A band without ambitions. It was just a hobby. A small group of friends who played together when busy lives allowed it.
For this festival, we’d included a few members of the choir Nicky and I worked with from time to time, and it would be the biggest stage we’d performed on.
The music faded, and I ghosted my fingers over the keys in silence. Waiting. Was James done for the day, or did he want another round? The dozen or so students who required one-on-one sessions or smaller groups were evenly divided between the instructors with the right credentials, and the classes were scheduled near the end of the day so we didn’t have to rush any students. James was my last student on Mondays.
Nicky and I had added a private rehearsal with the choir because of our upcoming gig, but there was time. Chris, our bass player, hadn’t arrived yet anyway.
“What can motivate me to compose more on my own?” James asked. “Having my work discovered forty years after I’m dead isn’t really doing it for me.”
I chuckled quietly and grabbed my water bottle next to me. “Valid concern—back in the day, at least. We have technology today, James. Your work wouldn’t be hidden in some leather binder, collecting dust in someone’s attic. You’d likely upload a recording to a streaming site.”
“True,” he replied pensively. Then he got up and started gathering his sheet music and notebooks. “Mom and Dad want me to write my own stuff, but I don’t know where to begin.”
“With whoever you compose for,” I answered. “Don’t think about notes. The object of the work is your lyrics. If you want to create something for your mother or maybe your sister, you keep them in your thoughts, and you start playing.”
He chewed on his lip and carefully closed the lid on the piano. “Is that what you and Nicky do when you write?”
Not the best comparison. “Sort of—we let the melody appear in the playing. But there’s a big difference between classical music and what he and I work on. We have a lot less to consider.”
And other instruments could fill the gaps wherever necessary. James wanted to be a solo pianist; he had to cover every range, every emotion he wanted to convey, with his one and only instrument.
“I guess I can try with my sister first,” he said. “I just have to pound my elbows on the keys.”
I rumbled a laugh, to which he grinned proudly.
“It was a good joke, wasn’t it?”
I nodded and left my piano behind. “Very funny.”
He was pleased as punch.
With our session drawing to its close, I reminded him that Nicky would be here next Monday. James had all the notes he needed, and he knew what to work on. My brother would mostly be here as support. Nicky was a good pianist, but he hadn’t been schooled in classical music whatsoever, and his biggest strength was with the guitar. He stuck to teaching beginners and intermediate students where piano and keyboard were concerned.
“I remember,” James said and nodded. “And the Monday after that, there’s no class at all.”
Correct. That was the Monday we’d all be leaving Nashville. Thankfully, only a handful of classes had to be canceled. We’d worked most things out with the other instructors as well as two freelancers Nicky and I knew.
James and I said goodbye for now, and he politely wished me a pleasant vacation before ducking out of the studio.
I flicked off the lights and exited too, because we’d use the other rehearsal room for our practice with the choir.
“Can you set the alarms and lock up?” I asked Nicky. “I’mma grab a quick smoke.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I spent half a minute on hellos and what’s-ups as I passed Maria, Luiz, and the others in the choir who were joining us in Tennessee. Then I made my escape and lit up a cigarette right outside.
It was nice not needing a jacket as soon as I stepped outside the door. Nashville would be even nicer, I reckoned. I’d checked the weather app on my phone, and it would be around seventy there next week.