Much of my brain lately has been stuck on logistics.

The when’s, the how’s, the who and where. The time, money, and follower count of it all.

This is because I’m trying to make things happen this year. Lately, I feel more defined by what I’m working towards than where I’ve been. I’m a girl who wants to (finally) move out of her parents’ house, (somehow) be independent in this economy, (eventually) move to Los Angeles, and (always) do music.

And, yes, lately all of those things have felt like far fetched dreams.

Yet, they’re all around me.

On Sunday, I woke up and finished the Release Radar, setting it to be published at noon. Then, I decided to go ahead and get ready for work right away; that way I could spend all my free time before leaving at my keyboard.

It’s like I’m experiencing the highs and lows of it all at once. The passion and drive to make music and build a career out of it; that bittersweet feeling of wanting something so bad and not knowing if you can get it.

All this against a backdrop of a country tearing itself apart and a world on fire. All this in a California spring that’s averaging 80 degrees a day and six dollars a gallon at every gas station.

Like. Being 22 is everything everywhere all at once, huh?

“22 was a panic attack/I can’t stop the time from moving and I can never get back” — All Falls Down by Lizzy McAlpine

There’s a lot of TikTok’s and such out there saying things like, “I’ll succeed because I’m crazy”. I think that’s the energy I’ve brought into 2026. Like, crazy-eyed, tunnel-visioned girl who simply has to make it happen. Why? Cuz not getting it is just intolerable to me.

Lately, I’ve wondered if I’m too ambitious. A lot of artists seem to play off their goals. Lean into the labor of love thing, don’t come on too strong, don’t let on that if the “little music thing” doesn’t work out, you might just become an actual screaming banshee.

I don’t think I can hide how much I want it. Maybe that’s not cool, but, at this point, my urgency is just a fact of life. I feel like I have a compass needle in my gut. At any given moment, it’s tugging and tugging towards a future that I just have to make real.

“I’ve got Jack Sparrow’s compass, it isn’t a fucking toy” — Cinder Block by Samia

So, yeah. Lately, I’ve just been doing things. I’ve gotten into a routine of posting on TikTok twice a day, a good habit to promote my music and build an audience.

Little by little, I’ve broken down these barriers in my mind. Barriers that have stood there since literal childhood; made up of “ I can’t” “I don’t know how” “that’s not safe/comfortable” and “I’m not good enough”.

I made a goal last year to book a $200 gig. I hoped to do this by booking at one of the wineries or country clubs in my area that pay artists well. The problem is, it’s hard to get these places’ attention.

Plus, as I recounted in my last personal post, I had fumbled an opportunity to play at a winery. I had overthought and felt like I wasn’t ready. When I felt a little more prepared and reached back out, I never heard back.

This fumble haunted me. I was learning the hard way to jump on certain opportunities when they arise, imposter syndrome be damned.

So, when I got the chance to book two 2026 gigs at a local country club, I took it. After sending over my elevator pitch and some performance videos, I was told I’d be a “perfect fit”. Perfect, they said!

They also asked for my rates. I told them I typically charge $50 an hour so, for a three hour gig, ideally $150–$200. I crossed my fingers, hoping this would be the first of my dreamed $200 gigs.

As that first country club gig approached though, I felt nauseating anxiety. Could I sing for three hours without losing my voice? Did I have enough material? Did I have enough popular material?

What if they didn’t like me? What if they didn’t invite me back? What if I didn’t even make that much money?

Deep breaths. Practice daily. Do your best and be yourself.

To be perfectly honest, singing for three hours straight was hard on my voice. It got tired and scratchy by the end. There were at least a couple moments where I felt awful about it.

But overall, the gig went well. I had learned a lot of new songs for it and didn’t really mess any of them up. Strengthening my voice will come with time, practice, and more gigs.

So, did I make that dreamed-of $200?

Yes! The country club event organizer had chosen the higher of my quoted pay range. They wrote me a check for $200. Not only that, my audience tipped generously.

Thanks to this gig, I was able to book a photoshoot for my next song’s cover art. My music actually sort of paid for itself for once!

I went home, tired and happy, where my vision board hung on the wall, my $200 gig goal smiling down at me in green ink.

One of my sillier goals this year was to drive to LA and back. For those who don’t know, I’ve been to LA many times in my life, but never behind the wheel. Like many, I was always gripped by the assumption that LA driving was some kind of high-risk contact sport.

I figured I would take it slow. Go to a few concerts this year up there with friends, maybe start by driving halfway. Work my way up to complete vehicular freedom.

Lol. I drove to LA, entirely by myself, on Thursday. It ended up being one of the best nights of my life.

It was to be my third time seeing my friend Avery Cochrane play live and, just like the second time, none of my other friends ended up making it.

So I went. I ordered a sugar free Red Bull vodka, watched the incredible show, and hung out in the patio while Avery met fans. I got the chance to meet some lovely people and do some good old fashioned networking.

I’ve realized in the days since then how much has changed in the way I move through the world. I’ve also realized there aren’t many people in my life here at home who match that energy.

There’s a fire inside me that, maybe, didn’t used to be there. I see it reflected in certain people, like the people I met in LA. I think I belong with those kinds of people, with that kind of like-minded, creative, passionate community.

Community was my word of the year for 2025. To tell you the truth, I think the year that followed choosing that word beat it out of me. I began to prioritize the concept less and less for a few reasons; for one, I honestly just got busy.

For two, I became disillusioned. I began to feel like a square peg in a round hole, trying to make community in a place I simply don’t belong, with people who want very different things out of life.

I haven’t picked a word of the year for 2026. Maybe it would be “self”. Not, I hope, in a narcissistic, selfish way. But in the sense of building a self, growing as a person, becoming someone who would belong in the kind of vibrant community I crave.

“I’m just a girl/trying to find a place in this world…maybe I’m just a girl on a mission/but I’m ready to fly” — A Place In This World by Taylor Swift

I think a lot about myself these days. Find myself writing the words “I” “me” and “my” over and over in posts and in diary entries. But I think that’s because I’ve begun to really take stock and introspect in a more honest way than ever before. And because I’ve begun to change, intentionally, doing things my younger self could only dream of.

Also, there’s that urgency again. Over and over, that compass needle in my gut.

Fleetwood Mac comes on at work. I catch snatches of the upbeat chorus as I run food in and out of swinging doors. “Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow,” they sing, “for it’ll soon be here.”

I can practically feel tomorrow approaching. Every day I wake up and try to make choices in service of Next Year Me. I want Next Year Me to move into an apartment. I want her to make enough money to pursue music, while saving to move to LA.

I have a lot of work to do if I’m gonna make that happen. So my thoughts of tomorrow are injected with a mixture of optimistic anticipation and anxious calculations. I’m always placing Today Me in the context of Next Year Me’s timeline. Fleetwood Mac would be proud: I never stop thinking about it.

Still, there are so many kinds of progress and most aren’t easily quantifiable. How do I know that I’m truly moving forward, and not just running on a treadmill? Always moving, never going anywhere.

I heard someone say we’re in a “treadmill economy”. Meaning there’s always “progress”, always cash flowing, companies hiring, currencies changing hand. But most people are stuck. Running in place. Getting nothing but exhaustion in return.

I was inspired by this, so naturally I wrote a song. It’s become one of my favorites and, I think, the last piece of the puzzle for the project I hope to put out this year.

“Which dream can I afford to chase/if any of em anyway/prices up and the pay don’t raise/how am I supposed to keep pace?” — The Treadmill by me

Then, in the second verse, I grapple with the state of my finances versus my dreams even more explicitly. I’m constantly debating if I should prioritize work/money making or music making more. I’ve been resisting the need to get a second part time job for years now.

Despite my reluctance, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do right now. I just finished two rounds of interviews at a restaurant, only to be told they’re going with a transfer from another location. Oh, well. On with the applications.

Will I have less time for music and writing? Undoubtedly. Will these things that I love fall away like I feared so much? Absolutely not.

I know myself too well now to think I’d let that happen. I wake early before opening shifts to write songs; I sit at my keyboard in my uniform to practice after a closing shift. I don’t think I could keep music from my life if I tried.

I can be a very driven person when I’m motivated to, and right now, I’m very motivated. I can make it work. Because I have to.

Maybe I’m not the only one who feels this way. Maybe all small artists these days feel like they’re always treading water.

The best piece of advice out there for artists is to just keep going. Do whatever it takes to keep giving yourself the energy and resources to just stay in the game.

It’s easy to be discouraged. It’s easy to look at the enormity of the thing I’m trying to do and sink under its weight.

It’s also easy to become frazzled, scattered, spread thin. Trying to attack it from every front at once, swallow the elephant whole.

Patience and persistence are harder. It takes real, unglamorous strength to chip away at it, day by day. Doing the thing whether it seems to be working or not.

The life I want is made up of thousands of little choices. The most important one, the one I make every day, is the choice to keep moving forward.

A snippet of “The Treadmill”

My 2026 goals:

• Reach 500 subscribers to WAYSQ

• Double income by 2027

• Book a $200 gig (check!)

• Book a songwriter showcase

• Release new music

• Get better sleep

• Music videos!! (That’s all it says on my vision board)

• Interview an artist each month

• Nurture intentional connections and relationships

• Save to move out

• Drive out of my comfort zone (literally)

• Learn guitar

• Resist fascism

Listening:

• I Feel Lucky by Mary Chapin Carpenter

• Normal Feelings by Carol Ades

• A Place In This World by Taylor Swift

• Matilda by Harry Styles

• Untethered by Katie Lynne Sharbaugh

• Lord, Let That Tesla Crash by CMAT

• Oh, Mercy by Avery Cochrane

• Taking Things For Granted by Joy Oladokun

• Don’t Stop by Fleetwood Mac

• Cinder Block by Samia

• Anthems For A Seventeen Year-Old Girl by Broken Social Scene

• You Can Get It If You Really Want by Jimmy Cliff

• You’re On Your Own, Kid by Taylor Swift

Watching:

• Jurassic Park: The Lost Word, Jurassic World one, and Fallen Kingdom

• Camp Cretaceous (are you seeing a pattern?

Reading:

• Audition For The Fox by Martin Cahill

• Cue The Sun by Emily Nussbaum

Enjoying:

• The new spiced cold brew at Montague Brothers Coffee

• Getting to go on solo adventures, like the concert in LA

• Dinosaur content

• Music! Listening, writing, practicing, etc

Check out my music on Bandcamp:

That’s all for now!

Buy me a coffee to help make my dreams come true :)

🪩 thank you 🪩

January is such a non-starter of a month, why do we begin the year with it?

It’s February first as I write this and all I really feel is relief that January’s out of the way. Let’s be real, it’s never an easy time. Anyone who says it’s all uphill after the holidays is lying. But maybe, just maybe, it’s all uphill after February first.

I’ve been formulating this post in the back of my mind all month. Life has been full of ups and downs and whirlwind thoughts.

One of ongoing goals, every year, is to get out of my comfort zone. One way to do that is to stop myself from underselling my abilities. You see, I tend to feel inexperienced and unprepared; worse, I tend to lead with that, use it as a sort of padding for failure.

But if you tell people you don’t know what you’re doing, they tend to believe you. If you tell them you’re anxious and shy, they tend not to leave space for you to fill. And once people expect less from you, it’s hard to change their minds.

How different would my life look if I fell a little more on the overconfident side of the spectrum?

I’ve been listening to CMAT’s Euro-Country album a lot. “Ready” has emerged as my favorite song.

“I’ve been here before, so afraid to fall/and I’ve missed it all/but now I’m ready…ready for anything”

This song is so relatable to me. The verses talk about how she’s held back, played it safe. But by the time she gets to that sing-along-ready chorus, there’s a sense of release. It becomes confident and carefree.

I relate, as well, to the frustration simmering in the verses.

“But now I’ll take a breakup over daytime television”

Somewhere between naming your patterns and breaking them is the prickling feeling of continuing them knowingly. Some people are naturals at fleeing their comfort zones; others have to become so incensed at their own stagnancy that they’re forced to.

I have more specific goals for 2026, of course. Not long into the new year, I hosted a vision boarding night. I always prefer vision boarding over resolutions; feels like the difference between a Pinterest board and a list of rules. But I ended up writing up some goals and taping them to the board too.

One slip of paper says “double income”. It’s situated above a photo of a condo in LA. Another goal, this one not invoked directly on the board: to move to LA, to live independently, to finally get out of my hometown.

How am I gonna do these things? I don’t know, man.

But January has whispered to me, be open to opportunities. Don’t second guess yourself too much. Don’t tell people you can’t before you’ve even tried—they may not ask again.

Other specific goals include: publish an interview a month and reach 500 subscribers. I think it is more than doable. Something really shifted in WAYSQ’s favor with the new year. I’ve gained 26 more subscribers in the last thirty days. If this momentum continues, I hope to see 500 by December.

One thing I increasingly crave is independence and competence.

People tend to assume I’m younger than I am. Have you ever had someone tell you you’re “good for your age” only to find out they think you’re a teenager? Cuz I have.

In many ways, I’ve been babied all my life. I am, after all, the “baby” of the family. But at my big age, I grow weary of being told I can’t/shouldn’t do something by myself. Especially when the reasoning is that I haven’t done it before.

Uh, duh? How am I supposed to have done it if I don’t do it? Am I making sense here?

This is mostly about driving to be honest. I got my drivers license somewhat late and was a very anxious driver. In the beginning, my adventures behind the wheel involved a lot of tears, refusal to turn right on red, and blocking off freeways on my maps.

That was a really long time ago though. Like, five years. I’m twenty-two now, mom.

And if you don’t know, twenty-two is the year where you realize you can do anything.

At least that’s what I’m going with.

It’s just like, I’m a grown woman. I can send an email. I can drive to San Diego. I can apply for a credit card. I can do these things with or without help.

All of this to say, the habit of underselling yourself really does come back to bite you.

Sometime last year, I happened to get a night off when I knew there was an open mic going on. I had never been to this particular open mic before, but I’d been wanting to for a while. Free from work, I packed up my keyboard and went.

Per my tradition, I was fashionably early. So, I signed in, stashed my keyboard in a hallway, and took a seat at the bar. Ordered myself a glass of sparkling peach wine (recommend) and tapped my foot until the night began.

You got two songs. I thought it best to do one cover and one original—of course, it had to be “Clyde” and I made sure to let them know it was out. The other song was a sad indulgent number, “London” by Emily James.

When I was done, I returned to my seat at the bar. There, I was greeted by a woman who introduced herself as the restaurant’s entertainment director. As in, the person with the power to hire me as a performer.

She said she loved my voice and my style. Then: “Could you do a three hour set of popular songs?”

I immediately overthought this. Three hours is a long time; I’d never performed for that long before and was sure my voice wouldn’t last. And popular? Three straight hours of nothing but popular songs?

I expressed enough uncertainty to be taken as a no. She said to reach out when I was ready.

Months later, I emailed the venue.

I never heard back.

On Sunday, I learned how to parallel park.

Taught myself, technically. And yes, I am proud.

Let me back up: last month, Avery Cochrane announced a show in San Diego on February first. If you’ve been reading WAYSQ for a while, you’ve read that name before; an artist who I admire and consider a friend, Avery’s been a guest on the blog twice now.

Obviously, I had to be there.

However my usual concert companions, my sister and her partner, were unavailable. So, I’d be driving myself.

As you can imagine from my above foibles about driving, this was another one of those “it’s no big deal, but also it kind of is a big deal” situations.

Anyway, I invited as many people as possible and made plans with a friend to accompany me. But by the time Sunday rolled around, the plans had fallen through and none of my invitees could make it.

I did the logical thing. I made a playlist special for the trip, thoroughly mapped out dinner, parking, and coffee, and I hit the road with my sunroof open and CMAT blasting.

That’s how I came to be walking down the streets of Little Italy, gawking like the tourist I arguably was.

My ambitions may lie in LA, but San Diego is beautiful. The drive there? Stunning and full of nostalgia for my childhood. Little Italy looked an idyllic haven for foot traffic and cute cafes.

What followed was genuinely one of the best nights of my life.

I drank a delicious cold brew, worked on this post, then headed back to my car. On the way, I ran into Avery’s dad who called me by my full government name. I guess I now know what it’s like to be recognized on the street.

It was time to head to the venue. Back to my age old enemy: street parking. You see, the area had free street parking on Sundays. Fantastic for my wallet as a starving artist. Horrible for my nerves.

I’ve always had this preconceived notion that I can’t parallel park. It’s not required for a California license, so I was never taught.

Turns out, it’s not that hard.

I parallel parked, briefly felt proud of myself, realized I was in a no-parking zone, panicked and moved.

I realize I’ve spent the majority of this concert blog talking about the drive and parking situation, but it is a very prominent part of concert going.

Another one of my goals, predictably, is to release new music this year. Never do I feel more fired up and supported in that than when I’m with my creative community.

Thanks to the absurdities of modern life, a lot of said community is online. There’s pros and cons to this, of course. My biggest supporters and some of my favorite people are all on Substack; most of my irl friends don’t know what a “substack” is.

On Sunday, I got to meet some of my online community in real life. Starting with Avery Cochrane’s dad. On TikTok, he’s always commenting nice things on my videos and telling me to release new music. When I met him on the street that day, he said the same thing, “I love Clyde, I want new music from you”.

I think I have a hard time processing that this person I hadn’t met in real life before genuinely likes my music.

After the concert, there was a whole group of us, gathered on the sidewalk because the venue kicked us out.

I love being around passionate people, creative people, and music lovers. I want to surround myself with these types of people for life.

As I drove home, “Shapeshifting On A Saturday Night” blasting, the idea that I would make a living doing this—music, writing, being a weird passionate person—felt like the most natural thing in the world.

This reflection on January feels woefully incomplete without discussion of what caused a dark cloud over the month for the U.S.

I am a very privileged person; ICE is not occupying my city. It’s a mark of privilege that most of what I have to report centers on music and personal finance and goals.

But politics affects us all. With the new Epstein files releases and ongoing oppression from ICE, it’s clear that the only acceptable solution is the impeachment and prosecution of everyone involved. Impeach Trump, abolish ICE, and bring justice against this corrupt administration.

This isn’t going to happen on its own. This is an ongoing battle with many fronts; protest, call your representatives, and, most importantly, get organized in your communities.

I highly recommend The White Pages here on Substack. Garrett is currently raising funds to aid communities in Minneapolis, as well as continuing to write rousing posts with kindness and truth and provide resources for those looking to organize.

The audience of WAYSQ is mainly artists and music lovers. I don’t write about politics as much as I used to—but this blog is not apolitical. Art should not be kept out of politics.

Artists, being creative is not too frivolous in these times. It’s even more important. Whether you’re making something for the hurt to escape to or actively using your art to speak up, keep doing it. Keep creating.

Speaking of going for things whether you’re ready or not, I, a very amateur guitar player, have started a series of guitar covers:

Find me on TikTok

My 2026 goals:

• Reach 500 subscribers on “Why Are You So Quiet?”

• Double income by 2027

• Book a $200 gig

• Book a songwriter showcase

• Release new music

• Get better sleep

• Music videos!! (That’s all it says on my vision board)

• Interview an artist a month

• Nurture intentional connections and relationships

• Save to move out

• Drive out of my comfort zone (literally)

• Learn guitar

• Resist fascism

Listening:

• Ready by CMAT

• Griever by Avery Cochrane

• The Great Divide by Noah Kahan

• Push Through by Caroline In The Garden

• Big News Day by Annabelle Dinda

• Scooby by Corook

• Dog Days Are Over by Florence and The Machine

• Isimo by The Bleachers

• New Season by Katie Lynne Sharbaugh

• Drugs by Joy Oladokun

Watching:

• Just finished my Psych rewatch 😭

• Percy Jackson season two

• Smosh

Reading:

Nothing at the moment :/ but I’m going to the library soon! Drop recs in the comments

Enjoying:

• Cold brew

• My sunroof

• Getting submissions from artists!

• Living in California (sorry to those enduring winter)

Check out my music on Bandcamp :)

And my latest vlog:

That’s all for now!

Buy me a coffee to help make my dreams come true 💫

🪩 thank you 🪩

I turned 22 last month and, just like that, I decided I’m cool. I decided that cool was never something to do with appearance or other people’s opinions.

I’m a girl living my dreams one step at a time. I do cool things like write songs and interview artists and plan music videos. I wear a lot of pink. What’s not cool about all that?

Twenty-two feels like a nice, balanced age. An exciting age full of possibility. A cool girl age, even. Not just because Taylor Swift wrote a song about it.

It actually started with my (re?)discovery of Audrey Hobert. You see, I’d listened to and covered a few of her singles here on WAYSQ, but I hadn’t gotten around to listening to her full album. When I did, it didn’t quite click first listen.

But not long after my 22nd birthday, I gave it another listen. “Who’s The Clown?” is witty and humorous, packed with brilliant storytelling, and explores the natural tension between familiar self-deprecation and growing confidence. It is, essentially, an album about what it means to be cool.

As I listened once, twice, and over again, I began thinking about the concept of main character energy. It’s a popular topic online: being the hero of your own tale. On the other hand, the concept is associated with people who lack self-awareness and think everything’s about them.

A lot of the dialogue around being cool, being an “it girl”, taking the reins of your life etc creates what feels like a fragile set. Your chances of becoming the main character of your life hinge on becoming properly organized, polished and poised, and somehow in control of it all.

Audrey Hobert takes up the role of a different type of main character: you could call her the sitcom main character.

“Who cares if I’m pretty/I feel like I’m Phoebe” — Phoebe by Audrey Hobert

She’s an it girl, yes, but in the sense that Phoebe from Friends is. She’s cool, but not because she’s trying. And not because she puts inordinate effort into not trying either—this isn’t the nonchalant main character.

“Cool” is the side effect of learning to love yourself. It’s a side effect of pursuing a life you love, surrounding yourself with people you think are cool, and most importantly, learning that no life worth living comes without mishaps.

“I think I look bad, but it doesn’t matter/I once read that some people’s beauty can’t be captured”

Another artist soundtracking my twenty-twos is Olivia Dean. Many of her songs drip with effortless confidence: “So Easy (To Fall In Love)” being the most obvious example. Other songs meet the ups and downs of life with quiet grace and belief.

In “Lady, Lady”, she navigates change by describing her future self as someone with “a master plan”. In “Baby Steps”, she’s doing exactly what the title suggests, taking life a little at a time.

“I won’t fall back, if I fall forward” — Baby Steps by Olivia Dean

This is the energy of a main character who doesn’t white-knuckle life, trying to bend the plot lines to her will. This is someone who goes after what she wants, but also knows that everything happens for a reason and timing is a funny thing.

Somewhere in between letting life happen to you and going full control freak lies true main character energy.

You see, the main character steps out of her comfort zone. That’s what I’ve been doing a lot of lately: trying new things, reaching out to new people, stretching myself and learning and growing.

And guess what? It, so often, feels very un-cool. Because what lies outside your comfort zone? Discomfort, of course!

I had a moment not long ago where I felt downright unlucky. Missed exits, missed social cues, mishaps, and more—it felt like I’d been failing more in recent times, not winning.

Then I took a moment to take stock. Pattern-seeking brain aside, there was an explanation besides a jinx. I was failing more because I was trying more!

If you’ve never been ice skating, you’ve probably never fallen on ice. It’s easy to be comfortable and not experience failure when you’re not trying.

But that’s not cool. More importantly, that’s not fun and it won’t get you anywhere.

“If you never bleed, you’re never gonna grow” — the 1 by Taylor Swift

Sometimes you really do have to fake it til you make it. Actually, I’d say you gotta fake it til you feel like you’ve already made it.

Don’t wait to feel cool to go do cool things. Send that message, write that song, go on that date—whatever the main character version of you would do, do it! Next thing you know, you’ll realize you were already the “it girl” all along.

Failure is inevitable. In fact, I’m learning to take it as a sign I’m going in the right direction. It means I’m trying.

And with the right soundtrack, I feel like I can try anything.

“I decided I’m cool” the playlist

Main character energy, mishaps included

A playlist to soundtrack the ups and downs of confidence, self-love, and being the main character in your own life. Pairs well with chaotic days, sunny drives, and getting ready. Best experienced in order, but do whatever you want. Mostly Audrey Hobert tbh.

• Sex and the city by Audrey Hobert

• Solid by Muna

• So Easy (To Fall In Love) by Olivia Dean

• Dorothea by Taylor Swift

• Shapeshifting On A Saturday Night by Avery Cochrane

• Sue Me by Audrey Hobert

• Side Plot by Katie Lynne Sharbaugh

• Bowling Alley by Audrey Hobert

• Baby Steps by Olivia Dean

• There She Goes by The La’s

• Running/Planning by CMAT

• Lucky Girl Syndrome by Katie Lynne Sharbaugh

• Chateau by Audrey Hobert

• COOL! by Leanna Firestone

• Stick To The Script by Anaïs & The Hoops

• Phoebe by Audrey Hobert

• Other Side by Katie Lynne Sharbaugh

• It’s Called: Freefall by Paris Paloma

• Lady Lady by Olivia Dean

• Mastermind by Taylor Swift

• Silver Jubilee by Audrey Hobert

My latest vlog :)

Reading:

• Graphic Design For Everyone

• Mood Machine by Liz Pelly

Watching:

• The new Stranger Things season

• Psyche

Excited for:

• Some new gigs I just booked

• Singing christmas songs

• All sorts of projects 🤫

Enjoying:

• Pink lipstick

• Coffee (as usual)

• Planning

• Unhurried drives around golden hour

Check out my music on Bandcamp :)

That’s all for now!

Buy me a coffee?

🫶🫶🫶

My favorite thing about singing is the sad songs.

In my opinion, there’s two kinds of people in the world: sad-song enjoyers and sad-song haters. I think I read in some study or another that some people genuinely find emotional catharsis in a sad song, while other people simply get sadder. I don’t know how they studied that, but hearing it blew my mind a little.

Previously, I had just assumed everyone found sad songs cathartic, the way us visual thinkers also assume everyone can visualize an apple.

Now I’ve had conversations with a few real live people who told me, nope, sad songs are no good for them. There’s no catharsis, no comfort, it’s just sad.

Huh, I thought. What do you know.

But my favorite thing about singing is the sad songs.

I often play gigs at a coffeeshop, which I maintain is the optimal setting for sad songs. It adds a coziness, an introspective quality to minor chords and forlorn lyrics.

For the last month or so, I’ve been trying to book gigs at new places. Preferably, higher paying gigs.

Fortunately, there are quite a few wineries in my city that have live music, and pay well. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to check their emails.

The other thing is my music. The wineries don’t offer the creative freedom my friends at the coffeeshop do. They’re paying big bucks and, in exchange, they want The Hits.

Whatever that even means.

Popularity can be so subjective of course. A song that I hear everywhere might sound foreign to the folks at the wine tasting.

The bottom line is the same, though. They don’t want sad, obscure songs. They want fun, lighthearted, if not happy then at least upbeat.

So, I’ve been trying to focus on learning more upbeat songs. Or at least popular ones. I learned Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo and Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer, among others.

I also learned Lake George by The Favors, one of the saddest songs I’ve ever heard, soon after it came out.

I just couldn’t resist.

“I’d be just about anyone else tonight/who’s not loving you”

Truthfully, I struggle to write happy songs. That’s why I enlisted my friend, Mikayla, to cowrite with me now and then. She, I think, can write for any mood, but I knew for a fact she excels at fun, upbeat songs.

We’ve written together twice. Both songs are upbeat-sounding, but neither of them are even all that happy. Our most recent was about jealousy, an emotion I hate to dwell on. I even made the song shorter than I typically would because of that.

I’m learning, though, that no emotion is inherently evil. It’s what you do and say about it that matters.

It’s sounds like a such a small thing, but I have to remind myself: you’re allowed to feel that.

Sad? You’re allowed to feel that way.

Anxious? It’s uncomfortable, but you’re allowed to feel it.

Anger? Be careful of what you do or say, but you’re allowed to feel it.

Same with the cocktail of jealousy, frustration, and cynicism that wrote “Want You To Wanna”, a song mainly inspired by influencers. The sentiment actually is quite ugly: I pretty much said, “I don’t want what you have, but I think you shouldn’t have it”.

“I don’t think I even wanna be you/But I want you to wanna be me”

I’d argue that a song is the healthiest place to put all that though. It’s always better than pushing it down and letting it fester.

The issue of writing happy songs remains though. Even with Mikayla lending me her upbeat sound, how often will it just be a sugarcoat for my sour lyrics?

I love a sweet-and-sour song too. When the production is all fun pop and the melody is infectious, but the lyrics, if you pay attention, cut to the quick.

Avery Cochrane is a genius at this, and she knows it. She compared her music to a lemon-drop martini. Sweet sound, sour lyrics.

“Will she waste into the kind of woman everyone likes/she’s an industry professional at telling you lies/works hard for her money and still can’t get by”

This factor is why I’ve loved Lizzy McAlpine for many years. I’ve even name dropped her in a song: “I wanna listen to Lizzy McAlpine and relate a little less”.

Out of all my favorite artists, few are as relatable to me as Lizzy McAlpine. Her writing captures overthinking, anxious-avoidant attachment, and the bittersweet feeling of having to be the one to leave in a way few artists do.

Perhaps because of her, I’ve always thought the best love songs are also a little bit sad. I mean, how else do you even take a love song seriously? Are you even in love if you’re not also a little nauseous? Have you ever truly loved if your heart doesn’t bear the scars of the past?

Maybe it was her song “How Do I Tell You?” that first implanted that idea in me.

“Who the hell can write a love song without making it too sad?”

Lately, though, I’ve been thinking.

Is it just me or do many listeners take sad lyrics more seriously than happy ones? More so, we seem to like ironic lyrics more than sincere ones nowadays.

Maybe that’s why Lizzy’s love songs have that streak of sadness and Avery’s sour lyrics have that sugarcoat. God forbid we all lay our purest emotions bare, without some twist or reservation to protect us. You can get away with being sincere as long as you’re being literary (a la TTPD) or “asking for a friend”.

Maybe the only thing scarier than falling in love is writing a love song that doesn’t cross its fingers behind its back.

I’ve been thinking about all of this because of Taylor Swift’s new album. Because I’ve listened to it five or six times now and I’ve seen the “movie” and some of the interviews and I’m working on formulating my eventual “Let’s Talk Music” episode about it.

I won’t spoil the episode, but I want to point out something I haven’t really seen anyone talk about: beneath the glitter and the glee, this is an album about sincerity.

“Eldest Daughter” falls into the camp of love songs that are a little bit sad. She confesses to being a try-hard, practically killing herself to try and seem as cool as all the baddies (so to speak) on the internet.

It’s not a mistake that her use of slang mixed with uncomfortably sincere promises of love comes off cringy. She knows that when “apathy is hot”, the least cool thing you can do is believe in love again.

I’m not an eldest daughter, but that song hits me hard. It feels like she’s written it from the other side of a struggle that I’ve found myself in the middle of: the struggle of believing in love, humanity, and optimism again after being hurt.

“We lie back/a beautiful, beautiful time lapse/ferris wheels, kisses, and lilacs/and things I said were dumb/cuz I thought that I’d never find that/beautiful, beautiful life that/shimmers that innocent light back/like when we were young”

It seems to me people are more likely to call the things she says dumb when they’re happy. But in this song, she flips that on her head, chuckling at her past cynicism.

Maybe I struggle to write happy songs because happiness seems more fragile, less trustworthy, flightier than sadness. Sometimes positive feelings are in fact more vulnerable than negative ones. At the very least, people are less likely to call you shallow.

We know all too well that it’s only human to feel lonely. But it’s also so human to feel joyful, to experience limerence, to laugh, to fall back into wide-eyed love even after heartbreaks.

My favorite thing about singing is the sad songs, but I hope to capture every facet of life in music, the cool and the cringy.

My most recent vlog:

Unreleased original song “I Wanna”

Released music and more:

bethanypaigecampbell.com

Songs mentioned (and highly recommended!):

• Lake George by The Favors

• Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer

• Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo

• Shapeshifting On A Saturday Night by Avery Cochrane

• How Do I Tell You? by Lizzy McAlpine

• Eldest Daughter by Taylor Swift

Buy me a coffee:

Thank you <3

If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell my boss?

Ok, thank you. Here goes: I’m planning on quitting my day job.

To be perfectly honest, I’ve been wanting to quit. I think it’s been over a year now of back and forth, internally struggling over the why’s and when’s and how’s. Even before that though, even when I got the job, I never wanted to stay for long.

I always wanted to be a full time artist.

Have I made progress towards that goal? Undoubtedly, yes. When I first started playing gigs, my voice could hardly sing for an hour before getting tired and I’d only recently begun learning piano. But after several months attending an open mic at a coffee shop, the owners said they were going to stop hosting the open mic and start hiring artists instead.

To my pleasant surprise, they asked me.

In hindsight, I’m proud of myself for jumping on the opportunity, arguably before I was ready. I was just ready enough, and certainly motivated enough and brave enough, to go for it and get better through the experience.

Sometimes, progress requires you to say yes to things you aren’t quite ready for yet: that’s how you get ready.

A couple years later, I take stock of the progress I’ve made. I force myself to acknowledge that I have made progress and that it’s meaningful even if I’m still not where I want to be.

Through all of this thinking and journaling that I’ve been doing, I’ve realized something about myself. An unfortunate pattern in career choices.

I tend to lack initiative. I wait and look and pray and hope for an opportunity to fall into my lap. I accept whatever comes along that seems “good enough”. And then I stay in that place for far too long, arguing that it’s safe and secure and, anyway, it could be worse.

I’m tired of that. I’ve always wanted to be self-employed and doing something creative. Always, even before I wrote my first song.

So, why am I waiting around and settling for “good enough”, when I’m meant to be out making my own luck?

I tend to compare myself to better artists who still work part-time in the service industry. If they’re doing numbers on Spotify and TikTok, but still wearing an apron on the weekend, how can I think I’m any different?

But then I remember that I’m fortunate and privileged to live where I live and know some of the people I do. I know that I could make a living playing at wineries and bars right here in my hometown, because I know many artists who do. Artists who have less than ten songs out, who often don’t even have TikTok.

If they can do it, why can’t I?

So, I do what I do best: steal away with a notebook and give myself to permission to dream audacious dreams.

If I make a living off gigs, I’ll be free to spend my days writing and making music. I’ll have more time and energy without the customer service job draining me every weekend. Maybe I can spend more time in the studio. Maybe I can connect with more people and find fans by playing out more.

More importantly, I’ll be making a living doing what I love.

That’s it! That’s the whole dream.

More specifically, my next big goal is to book at least four higher paying gigs a month, plus my typical 1–3 gigs at the coffee shop. To achieve this, I’m challenging myself to learn more upbeat and/or popular songs, strengthen my voice for longer sets, reach out to wineries, and attend more open mics to get myself out there in the real world.

I’m telling you this to keep myself accountable. If all goes well, six months from now, we’ll be celebrating together.

So, I’m not quite ready to leave my day job. But I’m almost at the point where I’m ready to go for it anyway.

This is why I turned on paid subscriptions for “Why Are You So Quiet?” Upgrading your subscription will get you access to exclusive posts (such as the new Let’s Talk Music talk show!) and directly fund my big leap of faith.

More important than any paid subscriptions, I just want to invite you to join me on this journey. Subscribe for free, go check out my website, my music, whatever corner of my world interests you.

Music, for me, is about creating a safe space to experience life fully and to feel your emotions, whatever they may be, without filter. I want to build a life where I get to do that full time, and hopefully, leave behind a little more space in the world for other creatives to do the same.

So, I’m quitting my job to become a full time artist.

I don’t know when, but I’m working towards it more actively than before. That has to count for something, right?

Wanna support me without upgrading your subscription? Feel free to buy me a coffee at the link below. Anything helps to make the dream possible in this expensive world :)

Buy me a coffee :)

While I’m a bit more eloquent in writing, I also have a YouTube channel where I sometimes talk at a camera! If you wanna hear me yap about this subject a little more, give this video a watch 📺

Hello and welcome to the first post in the “Bethany’s Music” section of “Why Are You So Quiet?”! This is the corner of my newsletter dedicated to my own personal music-making: updates, announcements, and musings on my musical journey. These posts will come infrequently and irregularly: essentially, when I feel I have something worthwhile to say.

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Today, I have a special announcement: I’m releasing another demo on Bandcamp and on my website.

I wrote “Suncatcher” in July. It was one of those songs that met me in an introspective moment, holding up a mirror to all the lovely little things in my life lately. The evening drives, sunsets over SoCal hills, cups of coffee, disco balls, and CDs—happiness in the tiniest objects.

I wear a lot of hats.

I write: songs, fiction, articles, occasionally poems.

I vlog, dabble in random hands-on crafts (particularly anything involving a bedazzler), and I read.

I’ve also begun interviewing other artists and assumed the role of creative director for the band . Creative director means more hats and more dabbling: graphic design, branding, planning releases, even writing music video treatments.

I also have interests and passions for fashion, music history, and more. If money was no object, I’d get a degree in just about everything.

I say it every single post: I am a person who doesn’t do compartmentalizing. I don’t want my life to feel organized and airtight. I want it to feel wild and diverse as a backyard garden. But how do you balance multiple creative pursuits and keep your life feeling whole and harmonized?

The key is finding the common denominator—or bass note for a more on-brand analogy—between your interests. They’re spokes on the same wheel.

What’s in the middle?

For me, it’s my identity as a dreamer. I see possibility and potential everywhere I look. Maybe I could direct a music video! Maybe one day I could start a magazine for local creatives! I could be this, I could be that, I could be anything.

Beneath it all, the bass note making it make sense: I’m a dreamer. Even if I’m not a musician, I am still a creative, visionary dreamer.

That’s what “Suncatcher” is really about. Being the kind of person who finds rainbows behind the clouds, glimmers of hope between the lines of sad songs. The kind of person who collects little moments of “happy” and decorates the world with them.

After tweaking the bridge/outro, I recorded this voice memo of “Suncatcher”. I found myself wanting to listen to it recreationally, so I took that as a sign that other people might wanna listen to it too.

I then created the cover using my free trial of Canva pro1 and a disco ball picture from a concert I attended last year.

You see, the line about collecting disco balls is literal in more than one way. I do have two literal disco balls, which hang on my keyboard for every gig, plus a little one on a stand that spins and makes an obnoxiously loud whirring noise. I also have a tradition of taking a disco ball picture at every concert I attend—thank god most venues still have them!

I just love a disco ball. “mirrorball” by Taylor Swift was one of the songs that inspired me to begin songwriting myself. In general though, I just love the way they look and all they can represent. The fun, the glamour, the dancing; the idea that being a little broken and extremely multi-faceted can be so incredibly beautiful. The implication that music and colorful light naturally go together.

So, of course, the cover had to have a disco ball. I wanted to make it look like the disco ball was a CD, so I cropped it close and placed it over a jewel case. This is how it started, before I found a nice Canva template for it:

I also wanted it to look like the kind of CD you’d find at a thrift store or in somebody’s garage, so I added a plastic wrap and, of course, little shimmers of rainbow light. The final touch was a tarnished barcode sticker. This was the final result:

“Suncatcher” is now available for download on my website and on Bandcamp.

And as a token of appreciation for my subscribers, I wanted to offer you a special discount. Use code “daydreamer” on Bandcamp for 10% off.

It’s fitting that today is also the day my subscriber count reaches 115. One hundred and fifteen people! That’s wild. That’s enough to fill a small concert venue!

When I started this Substack, I felt like I had so much to say on so many topics and that no one ever listened or understood. I called it “Why Are You So Quiet?” as a nod to that feeling—the rhetorical question so many introspective people dread.

Since then, I realized I started writing songs for the same reason. My identity as the “quiet kid” was too small of a box for my big thoughts, feelings, and dreams. But thanks to the magic of music, even a short song has plenty of space for not just my emotions, but yours too!

Alright, I’m gonna stop yapping now. Don’t forget to use code “daydreamer” to get your discount on “Suncatcher”. I hope it brings a little light to your life <3