Dear Life

Roller Coaster

"Hi Jenna, I'm Byron," a tall, thin man extended his hand over the big oak desk that divided him from Hunter, Dann and I. "I had a chance to listen to your demo. You have quite the team behind you and I was impressed with your range and abilities." 

Hunter squeezed my hand, "Thank you, I appreciate it." 

Byron continued, "I noticed that you chose to include covers. Do you write at all?"

Nervous, I pursed my lips together and took a breath before answering, "I haven't had much experience in writing. I didn't think I would even be here if it weren't for some close people who believed in my skills. I haven't been granted many opportunities to write."

"Well, not many people have the opportunity to know the men sitting beside you, but those people can write."

Stunned, I sat in shock. In the corner of my eye, I could see tension in Hunter's jaw, he was thinking of a rebuttle, "Byron, the reason Jenna never took much to writing is because she is from a little town in Ontario, she did music on the side. She actually works three days a week at St Thomas with seniors. I pushed her to hone her skills, I know not everyone is a born writer but she can co-write, she knows a good song when she reads it."

Byron looked at Hunter, like he was almost considering giving me a chance. Dann piped up, "Jenna has the stage presence of Taylor Swift Red era, with the maturity of someone like Carrie. Writing is a craft just as much as singing is." Byron took a deep breath and nodded. He excused himself for a moment.

He returned quickly holding a large, white envelope. "Miss Jenna Brighton, I knew from the moment I heard you, I would want to talk to you. After speaking with you, it is apparent that you have a tremendous amount of support. What I am willing to offer you, is an EP deal. This means you will get studio time to record a six song CD and you will go on a booking list for artists looking to fill opener slots for concerts. We will start there and should things look upwards, we can revisit the offer."

I nodded, absorbing everything that was just laid out on the table. "Can I review this and have it back to you tomorrow?" Byron nodded and we shook hands.

On the car ride home, Hunter held my hand, "He was being harsh."

"He was just being honest. He's correct - I don't write. There's someone else out there who can do what I do and write."

"Jenna, if you don't like the offer, you don't have to take it. He is making a judgement based on like what, six songs. Two of which were original shelf pieces I wrote. You know - Taylor wrote Better Man, and Little Big Town did not write Girl Crush. Sam Hunt wrote Cop Car, not Keith. All I'm saying, is that you don't need to be a writer to make good music. I can think of five people other than myself that would be honored to write songs for you."

"I believe you. I know its true but I felt like he was trying to discourage me. What should I do?"

"Maybe he was. Byron's a tough nail. I want you to do what you want. We can take it and heck, you can come tour with me next time around....or you pass." This was a hard decision, but I decided it's what I wanted. I could always fall back on my degree, I could record and work and if a tour popped up, then I would cross that bridge if I came to it.

We arrived home and Hunter packed up the last of his bags. He hugged me tight, and as he pulled away I shared my decision with him. "I'm going to take the deal. I also found that Atlantic is holding a writer's session a week from Tuesday and I'm going to go. I will work my butt off for this."

Hunter smiled, "I like your butt, don't work it off completely." I jokingly pushed him but gave him another kiss and hug before he hit the road.