When I began my songwriting journey in my tweens, my primary goal was to write at least as many songs as Prince reportedly had in his vault at the time. It was the mid-’80s, and I’d read somewhere that he had over 300 unreleased songs. For reasons I never bothered to sort, I decided I could write 300 songs, too. These are the kinds of dreams you have when you’re still jumping out of swings and riding on the handlebars of your friend’s bike, and too young to even know about the curveballs life will inevitably throw at you. Everything’s a festival!

Still, I was serious about my songwriting. When I launched my mission to 300 songs, one of the first things I did was organize my work. My mom kept me laced with some of the most highly sought-after 3-ring binders, so I took the largest one I had at the time and declared it my lyric notebook. I grabbed a ream of college-ruled notebook paper and slid it onto the rings, snapped them shut, and created a table of contents on the first page. This way, I could keep track of how many songs I had. The very first song in that very first notebook, “Just Like the Games,” marked my foray into unrequited love songs full of longing and brokenhearted yearning. Since I played alto sax in the school band back then, the song’s instrumentation was built around a gorgeous sax solo that I imagined Eric Leeds would play on my album. I couldn’t play it, and honestly didn’t even know yet how to compose and arrange. I could hear it all in my mind, though, and when I recorded “Just Like the Games” for the first time in 2020 (more than 30 years after I wrote it) I was finally able to play that sax solo, albeit on keys. The song remains unfinished and unreleased.

Fast-forward a million years, and I’ve now been a professional singer/songwriter for more than 2 decades with multiple self-produced EPs and singles and upwards of 1400 original songs under my belt. I’ve never made a living as a full-time musician, despite that being my dream my entire life. Be that as it may, and no matter how many times I’ve tried to quit, I’ve kept writing and singing and recording and sharing my music. I’m an entirely DIY independent artist, but in recent years I’ve wanted more and more to collaborate with others as a way to expand my creativity and build community with other artists. In the early ’00s when I started working with my music partner-in-crime, Montrose Cunningham, that was my introduction to performing with other musicians. Although Montrose and I never wrote any songs together (and to this day, we still haven’t, which is crazy!), we built my debut EP Nuda Veritas together. I would sing the songs I’d written for the project to him and he would compose the music around my melodies. It was magical.

A few years into my professional career, I started to learn about songwriting camps and intensives. I applied for dozens over the years, submitting what I thought were some of my best lyrics in hopes of being among the artists selected. I started to notice that it seemed–at least to me–that most of the writers chosen were younger and perhaps just beginning their work in song craft. Eventually, I stopped applying, figuring I wasn’t getting a spot either because my songwriting was too good or it was so bad as to be beyond help.

Enter the SONA Songwriter Camp. I initially became familiar with Songwriters of North America through WriteGirl, the non-profit teen writing organization where I’ve been a volunteer and teaching artist for several years. Their annual songwriting workshop attracts some of the best in the business, among them SONA co-founders and award-winning songwriters Michelle Lewis and Kay Hanley. As an emcee for the workshop, I got the chance to meet these incredible women and quickly decided to join SONA to connect with fellow songwriters and get deeper in the advocacy work that drives the organization. In late 2024, we began discussing a songwriter camp for SONA members and naturally, I applied. I wasn’t sure I’d be selected, and I was genuinely shocked and thrilled when I got the email saying I was among the participants for SONA’s inaugural songwriter camp.

For 2 days in May 2025, I luxuriated in the creative energy at Echobend Studios where the camp was hosted. On day one, I was there as a volunteer to help ensure everything went smoothly. I floated between studios, taking in all the melodic goodness coming out of each room. Day 2 was my day to write. I joined my team comprised of Eteka Huckaby, Lucy Levinsohn, Kevin Ngo, and Jordan Richman in a cozy studio on the second floor. I had my lyric notebook (NOT the big 3-ring binder I mentioned earlier. I know you were worried.) and my pen, and I was ready to rock. As we got comfy in the room, the artist we’d be writing for, CamRus, stepped into the space and regaled us with an epic tale of missed love connection. This was the story he hoped we could write a song around. Jordan queued up a couple beats he’d been working on to get us started, and along with CamRus we got busy.

For the next several hours, we poured ourselves into creating the perfect sonic universe to tell the story of how a beautiful woman on the 7 train to Queens captured CamRus’ attention and imagination, and the twists and turns that followed.

By the end of the day, the demo for “7 Train” was done. We gathered on the rooftop with the rest of the writing teams to give it a first listen. That’s CamRus in the green cap, by the way.

Over the course of the next several months, Jordan and CamRus polished the track. On March 20, 2026, “7 Train,” my very first co-write, dropped for all the world to hear!

I’m so proud of this song, and deeply honored and grateful to have been “in the room where it happened.” ASCAP president Paul Williams, who penned the iconic “The Rainbow Connection” among other legendary tunes, once said, “Songwriting is holy work.” I keep that quote close to my heart, and can attest that the day I spent with my fellow writers last summer is proof that what we do as music artists is life-altering, life-affirming, and essential to humanity. I can’t wait to write again with a team of brilliant artists.

Now, go stream “7 Train” and run it up! Find it on your favorite platform and tell everyone you know.