The Two Ellas

“It isn’t where you came from, it’s where you’re going that counts.” ~ Ella Fitzgerald

“Just don’t give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don’t think you can go wrong.” ~ Ella Fitzgerald

“The only thing better than singing is more singing.” ~ Ella Fitzgerald

Friday morning I wake at 2 a.m., the crafty dread and anxiety a partner in my bed. I stare at the wall, my eyes burning with fatigue but my mind tumbling and spinning. It’s the usual worries: money, my girls, the deadline for the new book. By 4 a.m. the light peeps under the shade. Still I cannot sleep. Finally, I drift back to senseless slumber, only to awaken at 7 with a start, resigned like Sisyphus to roll the boulder up the hill one more day.

It is “Wax Museum” day for Ella and her fourth grade classmates. They’ve all chosen a famous person in history to portray. They’re in costume, frozen in position like a wax figure, ready at the push of an imaginary button to recite a memorized speech. In the weeks previous they’ve made tri-fold poster boards with a short biography and interesting facts about their subject.

My Ella is Ella Fitzgerald. She wears a pink costume left over from last year’s dance recital. Her poster board lists the facts of the famous Ella. It reads something like this quote from Wikipedia:

Ella Fitzgerald (April 25, 1917 – June 15, 1996), also known as the “First Lady of Song”, “Queen of Jazz”, and “Lady Ella”, was an American jazz vocalist with a vocal range spanning three octaves (D♭3 to D♭6). She was noted for her purity of tone, impeccable diction, phrasing and intonation, and a “horn-like” improvisational ability, particularly in her scat singing.

These are the facts, the important information to note in a school project. Ella adds some others too. Ms. Fitzgerald lived on the streets; she performed at Amateur night at the Apollo theatre; she adopted her half-sister’s baby.

And these, which Ella detected from her research and wrote in her own words:

“Showed the world that it doesn’t matter what color your skin is but what is inside that counts.”

“Made it easier for black women to be famous singers.”

“Ella was determined because when she first started her career she lived on the streets and didn’t have enough to eat but she didn’t let anything stop her from reaching for the stars.”

“She was very dedicated to her work.”

And in the middle of my Ella’s board, in her fourth grade cursive, is this quote from the famous Ella:

“It isn’t where you came from, it’s where you’re going that counts.”

I stare at it for a moment. Are both Ella’s giving me a message? Forward motion matters most, not the past, or regrets, or mistakes, or worry. The lessons from our hard-travelled journey inform our decisions but cannot be allowed to freeze us into paralysis from the insidious fear that wraps itself around us in the dark, sleepless night.

As I walk to my car after the wax museum is over, I think of Ms. Fitzgerald, of her extraordinary talent and what she gave to the world beyond the facts of her life. I think of the courage it took for her to make the life she made out of much harder circumstances than I’ve faced or face now. I think of the inspiration she continues to give to those of us perhaps a little less extraordinary.

Didn’t let anything keep her from reaching for the stars…she was very dedicated to her work.

And my Ella? What dreams has the other Ella inspired her to chase? What has she learned from a woman she knows only from the pages of books and in the recordings of music but who is real to her, as she is to me – another strong woman in the village of women helping raise my girl.

And me? Oh, Ms. Fitzgerald, I want to say, I’m still chasing dreams too. But I’m frightened by all the risks I’ve taken and continue to take. I left the American dream when I closed the corner office door seven years ago. And it came with a cost. There are sleepless nights, and constant worry about money and the ever-present hard work of it. I can’t remember the last time I took a day off; while the world bustles below me, I sit at my desk day after day, sometimes inspired and sometimes not, but always with focus and dedication.

I work during sunny days, rainy days, holidays, and all that toil has produced three novels in nine months. By the end of 2013 the count will be four. But sometimes, lately, I wonder, is this the right choice? Wouldn’t it be wiser to go back to my corner office with the fat paycheck, especially now I’m on my own with two little girls? And yet, I continue living right on the edge, mostly on faith and grit and hard work, hoping always that it’s pleasing to God.

Might Ella answer if she could: “The only thing better than singing is more singing.”

And so it for me too. The only thing better than writing is more writing. I write because I’m scared to fail. I write because the stories keep coming. I write because it’s the only way I can make sense of the world. I write because I cannot stop. I write because it gives me breath.

So I come home. I open the manuscript. I pound out some words. I painstakingly fret over the details, the words, the truth of it. Yes, this, always the question – am I telling the truth? Because otherwise it doesn’t matter. Truth is art. This is my aim, my dream, my untethered ambition.

This is what I do. This is who I am. It is from whence I came. It is where I’m going.

Tonight, in homage to the famous Ella and the one sleeping across the hall from me dreaming her little girl dreams, I whisper to the choking smoke of fear that slides between the sheets at 2 a.m. “You will not bring me down. Not yet. Not ever.”