What does composing look like?

Do you ever find yourself asking this question?




I didn't think so.

But, because the question has been asked and I can't leave myself hanging, I'll answer that.

My first song was all handwritten, all 27 parts carefully played on piano and then transposed and written on staff paper print outs.  Then, it was re-written on a free trial of Sibelius, which wouldn't allow you to save and the print outs had SIBELIUS written on the back so the notes weren't readable.  The reaction I had to this (imagine nervous breakdown) after writing the whole thing, ended with a purchase of Finale, the program I now use.  After that was performed by my high school band I asked for feedback and a trombone player (don't worry, not the one I'm married to) said the trombone part was boring.
This is probably where I should share why I wrote the first song to begin with.  I mentioned people holding their tongues a while ago, but I have to admit that sometimes negativity is just what I needed.  Young me gave up easily... until someone told me I couldn't do something or I wasn't good enough.  Oh yeah?  Oh YEAH?! Imagine practically silent 13 year old me making fists and punching the air in front of  my mirror, getting pumped to prove someone wrong!
So when this trombone player said it was boring, I started another piece originally entitled "For the Trombones".  It ended up not really focusing on trombones, but there part was much harder, thank-you-very-much.  The college band played this one, I sent it in for publication and was denied.  Actually, the company went bankrupt before they denied me, but from what they said to me, I was being denied anyway. 
So I decided to keep writing and get published one day.  Stubborn little high school me, and slightly less stubborn but more educated and more talented college me kept writing.  Determined.

Adult me isn't so much concerned about publishing.  I am a young lady who has no big connections in the industry and no real formal education to back me.  Basically, I'm the kind that they throw out before they look at my piece.  I'm fine with that, but I'm not going to stop writing.

So, this is what my life looks like this afternoon.