Author Margaret Atwood (The Handmaids Tale) once quoted that “… you never know who your readers might be” when it came to writing output and the writers attitude towards it. Of course the quote is skewered towards authors but the full quote is below rearranged to suit the songwriter…
“Releasing a song is like casting a message in a bottle out into the ocean. Some sink without a trace, some wash ashore to be heard, maybe cherished, maybe misunderstood, or even rejected by those who dislike its truth. You never really know who will be listening, or how your words and melodies will land.”
To me, this means that every time you finish a song and send it into the world, you’re letting go of something personal.
It’s a little piece of you, a story, an emotion, a perspective sealed inside a melody and set adrift. From that moment on, it begins a journey that you ultimately cannot control.
Some songs will quietly disappear, only to re-emerge years later in the most unexpected place. Others will find their way to someone who needs them right now.
Some will be heard and quickly forgotten, while others will be loved deeply, maybe even for reasons that have nothing to do with why you wrote them.
The Unseen Journey of a Song
Once you release a song, it takes on a life of its own.
It could travel across countries, languages, and cultures. It might end up on a stranger’s playlist, become the soundtrack to a road trip, or play softly in a hospital room during a life-changing moment. It could inspire, comfort, or provoke, sometimes in ways you never expected or intended.
I’ve had songs I thought would connect instantly… vanish into the void. And I’ve had songs I almost didn’t release end up touching people far more than I ever imagined. That’s the thing, you just can’t predict where a particular path of a song will lead it.
Letting Go of Control
As songwriters, we often imagine a certain audience or reaction. Maybe we picture the crowd singing along, or a particular person finally “getting it.” But the reality? You can’t choose your listeners, and you can’t dictate how they’ll respond.
Once a song leaves your hands, it’s no longer yours alone. It belongs to everyone who hears it and of course to whatever meaning they attach to it.
The Power of the Unknown Listener
Believe it or not, not knowing exactly who’s listening is actually a freeing experience.
It means you can stop writing with approval in mind and start writing with honesty as your guide. You don’t have to please everyone, because you’ll never even know who “everyone” is.
And here’s the beautiful part, your song might connect with someone for a completely different reason than you intended.
They might take a lyric you thought was about heartbreak and use it to get through a career change. They might latch onto a melody you wrote in five minutes and make it part of their wedding. That’s the magic of music, it’s personal to both sides.
A Song’s Afterlife
Songs don’t just live in the moment you release them. They drift. They resurface. They get passed from one listener to another like a story told around a campfire. They can lie dormant for years and then, without warning, become relevant again.
You might never see these moments. You might never meet the people your song has helped, challenged, or accompanied. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there.
The Lesson: Keep Throwing Bottles Into the Ocean
You don’t get to choose which shore your song will land on. You don’t get to choose who will find it, or when, or what it will mean to them. All you can do is keep writing, keep recording, and keep releasing.
So the lesson to take from all of this is to keep sending those bottles into the ocean because somewhere out there, right now, someone might be waiting for the song you haven’t written yet.
