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 Out
west some brethren are having a wonderful time, and doing
something useful, by trying their hands at song writing. Brent
Lewis has produced a singable hymn; and bros. Bolton, Worley.
and Stevens have written several spiritual songs and hymns,
available by writing Claude E. Worley, 809 N. Doheny Dr.,
Beverly Hills, Cal. 90210
I
couldn’t resist telling them the following story, from my
earlier days when I taught some singing schools. An aspiring
song-writer brought three manuscripts, no names attached, asking
my judgement. Singing through the first, I found it a bit
awkward — so with a little “hemming and hawing” it was
lain aside, and the second examined. This too was not smooth,
and the melody was rather dull, so with some limited
commendations we moved to the third.
This
one had it! It was singable, well planned, with a lilting
pleasant tune; yet neither “jazzy” nor too complicated for
congregational use. I began to praise the song, and congratulate
the man for an excellent job — and was amazed that he seemed
rather unhappy about the matter.
“What’s
wrong with the others?” he asked, and put them into my hands
for
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explanation.
I
replied that in my opinion they just didn’t “jell” — the
feel, the touch was missing. “But one out of three is an
excellent average. We can’t expect to “hit” on every
sermon, article, or song we write. You have done a marvelous job
on this third song, and you may scrap the first two with no
feelings of regret.”
The
man’s feelings were unchanged. In despair he explained, “But
bro. Turner, I didn’t write that third song. It belongs to
Bro. Teddlie.”
I
wonder how many trial runs, bits and scraps, whole songs, bro.
Teddlie threw into the waste basket before he produced the
singable version. Once in a marvelous while we come up with a
first-run gem — usually the cream of many months of musing and
study, even though we may not be aware that the idea grows
beneath the surface. But most good things are the product of
luck, spelled “hard work.” The public sees the condensed,
pithy, challenging and action-producing end. (Oh, how we hope!!)
But we clean out an overloaded waste basket, and wonder where we’ll
get the next one. RFT
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