Oh, Internets. Let my tell you a sad story of sadness.
As I've mentioned a few times on this blog, I've been working on a new opera. It's been two years of slow, meticulous work, coming up with over an hour of music and all the lyrics. I'm really proud of what I've done and I think it might be one of the better things I've ever written. The whole piece is 98% done - I just need to work out a few of the musical transitions between scenes and that will take about a week.
And then I heard just this morning that someone has written a musical with the exact same setting, themes, and a very similar plot that's going to be produced next year, with strong hopes of a Broadway run.
And I just died a little.
So I'm weighing my options. Part of me wants to put in that last week of work, like an exhausted and broken marathon runner getting carried over the finish line to achieve a sense of closure. I'd then print it out, put it in a binder, and it would sit on a shelf next to my first opera, unproduced forever. Another part of me just wants to burn it all and scream to the sky as loud as I can. I've considered making drastic revisions to my piece, but I don't know where I'd start. The music is very specific to the setting and would be difficult to adapt.
The fact is, that the two pieces are going to be very different, but even though each was created without the knowledge of the other, comparisons will be made and I will likely lose any battle of opinions.
Woe is me, Internets. Weep for the weary artist.