Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The Doors...

The Doors....

This is my first entry on this site. I am a musician and a writer. This being the case, I sometimes intertwine the two. This first entry is actually a song that I just recently finished writing. It is complete now and is ready to be recorded. The studio recording sessions should start closer to the end of this year.

"The Doors" was written about my Grandfather who died about 10 years ago. He was more like a Father to me than a Grandfather. At the time of his death, I knew I would write something in his honor, but I also knew that it had to be the right "something". My younger brother moved into my Grandfather's home a few months back. My brother has done a lot of work to the home cosmetically. I was standing at the front door of the home and the first line came to me. It all takes off from there.

There a few things that might help the reader understand the writing a bit better. Throughout my life, on numerous occasions, my Grandfather would take me into his office and retrieve an old shoebox that he kept prized possessions in. He was very secretive about the contents of the box, removing the lid only long enough to get whatever item he was retrieving out before quickly replacing the lid. There were certain items that I caught a glimpse of on various occasions that are mentioned in the song. One of those items (the lock of hair) has since been explained. The lock of hair was from his 3rd born child that died just hours after birth. The other items were never fully explained and the box itself was not in the place he always kept it prior to his death. I never have found the old shoebox and surmise that it is still hidden somewhere in the house that my little brother now calls home.

In the third verse, there is mention of "his tree." I know that's an odd thing, but when I was about 7 years old, my Grandfather and I were walking the property (it was a 200 acre farm). He asked me, "Do you have a tree?" My reply was, "No Sir. Why would I need a tree?" His answer was simply, "Well, if you don't have one; what are you going to do when you need one?" He then showed me "his tree" and I picked one right next to his to be mine.

I hope you all enjoy.....

"The Doors"

(verse 1)
I'm standing at the front door
Of your house, it's changed again
And it still feels weird
Walking by that spot where you would sit
But it's alright....
Because I know that you reside
In every inch of this space

(Chorus)
And I'd like to find that old shoebox
You kept stuffed up under your desk
And I'd like to know
What was under that taped up lid
I want to hear the story
Of what those cufflinks meant
And please tell me what was up
With that lock of hair

(verse 2)
I'm standing by your truck door
For the first time since I don't remember when
Ain't much changed....
It's still got all of the same old dents
But when it rolls.....
I can't help but think of all of the places we've been

(repeat chorus)

(verse 3)
I'm standing at your back door
And I don't remember those trees being so big
But I bet if I tried....
I could find the one he said was his
It's been so long....
Since I've heard all of those same old stories
But what I wouldn't do to hear them again.

(repeat chorus to end)

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