I can hardly believe it – but photographs don’t lie. (Unless you’re very adept with PhotoShop,  which I am not.)  This morning,  I walked into the Sturtevant Post Office with seven padded envelops under my arm, like the one pictured above  – and sent them off to seven potential music publishers.

This is such a long time coming,  and nothing embarrasses me more than my ridiculous procrastination about this.  For more years than I care to count (well more than a decade)  I have thought very seriously about doing this-  and all kinds of people have encouraged me to send my music off to music publishers – but somehow I could never find the time necessary to do it right.   Actually,  I slapped something together about ten years ago-  three of my songs, handwritten,  with no piano accompaniments,  and a cover letter which apologized while earnestly explaining that I was simply too busy to get the piano accompaniment written out…. but if someone was intrigued enough by any of the pieces,  I would find the time to get the piano parts written out.    Right before I sent it off, I showed it to two people at Holy Communion – two people whose judgment I trust completely – who both told me in no uncertain terms that there was no way any decent music publisher was going to take me or my submission seriously if I didn’t take it seriously myself.  The criticism was absolutely right on the mark,  but it also scared me back into my shell for a time- and made me determined to do it right or not do it at all.

Fast forward to 2010,  the year I turned 50,  and I made a vow that one way or another I would make this move before the year was up.   And yet,  for as determined as I was to try and make this happen,  I have this strong sense that none of this would have come to pass if a former student of mine named Paul Marchese hadn’t moved to Kenosha this summer.  (You can read more about that in my blog entry from September titled “And he scores!”)  Paul’s enthusiasm, musicianship,  and his expertise with a computer program called Sibelius provided the missing link, and with his help (and gentle but persistent prodding)  I have transcribed the piano accompaniments for six or seven of my pieces, with more to come.  And with that time-consuming task finally accomplished,  I was  actually in a position to submit pieces to potential publishers.

So what three pieces did I choose to send off?  One of them is “Shepherd’s Gloria,”  a piece commissioned by the Choral Arts Society of Southeastern Wisconsin,  which has also been sung by the top choir at Tremper (twice) as well as the Chamber Singers the last year I conducted them.  It’s perhaps the most intricate and challenging piece I’ve ever written,  especially regarding its rhythm (with alternating time signatures of 7/8 and 4/8 for most of the piece) and I wanted music publishers to see this side of me.   Another is “Great and Glorious Light,” which might be the piece that has generated the most positive feedback over the years.  The story behind it is that on Thanksgiving Day 1999, Kathy basically chased me out of the house so she could finish up the big meal we were hosting later that day. . . so i wandered over to Holy Communion to play around on the grand piano in the sanctuary-  and a couple hours later, I had finished a new song called “Great and glorious Light.” That following Sunday, Nick Barootian and I sang it for church (on the first Sunday in Advent) and it’s had an important place in my musical life ever since.  The third piece is my arrangement of “Amazing Grace,” which I’m flabbergasted to say has been championed by none other than Weston Noble.   I chose these three particular pieces not only for their quality, but also because I have especially good recordings of each of them, which I’ve included in these mailings,  along with cover letter, biography, and several letters of recommendation.  (By the way the CD I slid into each mailing includes the three aforementioned pieces, plus four others.)

So what will happen from here?  One very real possibility is Nothing At All.   I have finally gotten around to making these submissions at a time when almost every music publisher is struggling rather than flourishing- so my timing is not exactly impeccable.   And as I slid each folder into its respective mailer,  I couldn’t help but picture an editor’s desk piled up with dozens of unsolicited submissions –  with mine just one of many.   (I’ve been told that a major publisher like Hal Leonard receives dozens a unsolicited submissions per day.)  So it’s a very real possibility that my songs may get lost in the shuffle.   It’s also possible that my age could work against me, in that it might seem unlikely that a 50-year-old unknown is going to have anything worthwhile to offer – or it might seem like a 50-year-old composer who’s still learning the ropes may not seem like a wise investment of time and resources.  (I mention my age in the cover letter.  A mistake?  Perhaps.)    And it’s even possible that the experts may take a close look at my music and decide that it’s okay but nothing special.   I am trying to prepare myself for any and all of these sobering possibilities.

Or on the other hand,  someone important might…. just might….  be taken with what I’ve written and ask to see more.   That would be amazing times one hundred,  but I’m trying really hard not to think about that too much.   Right now I’m just thankful and relieved that at long last I have thrown my hat in the ring.  It may be trampled… or ignored altogether…  or flung into the air in triumph….  but at least the hat is out of my drawer and in the ring. At last!

pictured above:   This is what our kitchen table looked like as i finished stuffing the mailing envelops.  By the way,  I got  $50 from Kathy’s dad for Christmas (this gift was one of several, by the way) and I decided that I would spend that money at Office Max as I did the duplicating of the scores and  other written materials for these submissions.  I just thought he would be happy to be even a small part of this project. . .  and I was right.