The “I want” song is a trope in musical theatre where a main character confides in the audience what it is they want. Bell in Beauty and the Beast wants more; Burr in Hamilton wants to be in the room where it happens; Eliza in My Fair Lady wants something “loverly.”
I can’t sing, and I won’t boast a talent I don’t have. However, if I could sing and if I were to sing a song, confiding in the audience the thing I want most, I’d tell the enthralled audience how I want to write.
A few years ago, I’d tell you I didn’t feel up to writing because I didn’t have a compelling enough story, but that can’t stand as the excuse any longer. I have traveled the world and have met fantastic people; have done and seen so many things that I never imagined little me would ever do or see; have learned and spoken to people who have humbled and challenged me. In my 29 years, I have loved and cried and felt impossible things that seem to escape the grasp of speech.
And I can’t.
A blog, an article, a book, a screenplay, even a Facebook post–everything just gets clogged in my throat and any poignant thing (I think) I have to say comes out in inelegant ways. Words sputter and make no sense.
When I read others’ blogs or travel magazine,s I seethe with envy.
When I reread anything of my own, I’m paralyzed by anxiety; the text stares back at me, disappointed in my efforts.
In musical tradition, the “I want” song is quickly followed by the character setting their sights on what it is they have finally confessed to wanting. I want to write, so here I go…