#me using my friendships with songwriters in nashville and my knowledge of writer's rounds lmao

[mrsrcbinscn]

Clover Tune || Jenny

@belladonna-wright​

Franny and Scat Cat had become fast friends when she first got to town twenty (!!!) years ago, when she came to his writer’s rounds always with at least two different instruments in tow. It was one of a handful of places in the area where aspiring songwriters would get together. It was nothing like the ones she would go to in Atlanta and Nashville, but at the time they kept her creative.

When he asked if she would be willing to help him put together a writer’s round at The Deer before she went on tour with Seoul Hanoi’d for a good portion of their European leg, Franny couldn’t really refuse. 

They’d managed to come up with enough songwriters to fill out a program running from 3PM-10PM, with three songwriters per session plus Franny hosting the first half. Max Cho with Seoul Hanoi’d would take over hosting for the last few hours, so she could get home before Sovanna’s bed time. The aspiring songwriters were all from Pride U’s songwriting program, the rest of Wiltshire, and a handful from Dorset and Somerset, mostly Upper Sixth Form kids whose parents hoped they’d grow out of their musician phase and go to uni for a real degree if they drove them to Swynlake to sing for a Songwriter’s Hall of Fame songwriter once.

They wouldn’t grow out of it. Franny ever did, even when it drove her to live in her car rather than pay rent for an apartment in Nashville but drop out of her songwriting program at Belmont because she couldn’t afford all four: car, apartment, Belmont, and food. She’d spent seven months living in her car, until her then-boyfriend Cornelius found out and all but made her move into his nice-ass apartment with him. Just as well. She had already decided she was going to marry him one day, what was cohabitation if not practice? Without Cornelius, Franny would have kept living in her car to avoid having to drop out of school or serve tables more often than she gigged for tips.

“All right, I’m going to take a short break, my friend Max will host the next hour,” Franny said after the 6 PM slot singers finished. Even if she only did two songs a slot to make sure the guests all got to three, she could use a rest.

She set her guitar down next to where her mandolin, banjo, and autoharp rested in a corner and wandered over to the bar to grab a drink.