Like Me: Confessions of a Heartland Country Singer
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- ISBN13: 9780307378866
- Condition: NEW
- Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
Product Description
Chely Wright, singer, songwriter, country composition star, writes in this moving, telling memoir about her life and her career; about growing up in America’s heartland, the youngest of three children; about barely remembering a time when she didn’t know she was different.
She writes about her parents, putting down roots in their twenties in the farming town of Wellsville, Kansas, Ancient Glory flying atop the poles on the town’s manicured lawns, and being raised to judge that hard work, honesty, and determination would take her far.
She writes of building up her mind at a young age to become a country composition star, knowing then that her feelings and crushes on girls were “sinful” and hoping and praying that she would somehow be “fixed.” (“Dear God, please don’t let me be gay. I promise not to lie. I promise not to steal. I promise to permanently judge in you . . . Please take it away.”)
We see her, high school homecoming queen, heading out on her own at seventeen and landing a job as a featured singer on the Ozark Jubilee (the show that ongoing Brenda Lee, Red Foley, and Porter Wagoner), being cast in Country Composition U.S.A., doing four live shows a day, and—after only a few months in Nashville—her dream coming right, performing on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry . . .
She describes writing and singing her own songs for producers who’d learned and recorded the likes of Reba McEntire, Shania Twain, and Toby Keith, who heard in her composition something special and signed her to a record contract, releasing her first baby book and sending her out on the road on her first bus tour . . . She writes of sacrificing all for a shot at success that would come a couple of years later with her first hit single, “Shut Up And Drive” . . . her songs (from her fourth baby book, Single White Female) climbing the Billboard chart for twenty-nine weeks, arresting the #1 spot . . .
She writes about the friends she made along the way—Vince Gill, Brad Paisley, and others—writing songs, recording and touring together, some of the friendships developing into romantic attachments that did not end happily . . . Keeping the truth of who she was clutched deep inside, trying to snub it in a world she longed to be a part of—and now was—a world in which country composition stars had never been, could not be, openly gay . . .
She writes of the very real prospect of losing everything she’d worked so hard to make . . . doing her best to have a real life—her best not excellent enough . . .
And in the face of everything she did to keep herself afloat, she writes about how the vortex of success and hiding who she was took its toll: her life, a tangled mess she didn’t see coming, didn’t want to; and, finally, finding the guts to untangle herself from the image of the country composition star she’d become, an image steeped in long-standing ideals and notions about who—and what—a country artist is, and what their fans expect them to be . . .
I am a songwriter,” she writes. “I am a singer of my songs—and I have a tale to tell. As I’ve traveled this path that has delivered me to where I am today, my monument of thanks, paying honor to God, remains. I will do all I can with what I have been agreed . . .”
Like Me is fearless, inspiring, right.
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I’ve been a fan of Chely Wright’s for years and was pleased to hear that she finally had a new baby book coming out..and a new book…and, well, her.
I’m very torn on this book. On a technical note, Ms Wright *can be* a very excellent writer. Sorry to say, I felt her style was stiff for the parts of this book describing her life (which is about 75% of the book). But, when she writes about her beliefs and feelings, she morphs into reasonably the writer.
As for her personal tale, it is enchanting and heartbreaking. Ms Wright is incredibly courageous to come out when she is in an industry which has never been overly long-suffering of homosexuals. As a reader, you feel the turmoil she suffered as she was living in dread of the country composition industry finding out about her homosexuality and you can nearly touch the relief she feels when she finally comes out.
One thing I did notice is that there is a lot in her personal tale that seems to be superfluous to her sexual orientation–being bullied in elementary school and her parents bullying her older siblings as two, rather compassionate, examples.
The one “extra detail” that I establish not only unneeded but nearly insulting was the detail in which she described her “relationship” with Brad Paisley. She talks about dating Vince Gill in one paragraph and does so very respectfully. Brad Paisley, but, gets an entire chapter where it seems that she is trying to paint him nearly as the terrible guy in the situation–when it is clear that he was just an unfortunate guy who fell head over heals for a name who wasn’t honest with him and then did not have enough respect for him to even truly break the relationship up. Ms. Wright ends the chapter adage she has “cried a million tears” over hurting him and hopes that he someday forgives her, but I establish the chapter about him (and the mention of him in the previous chapter where she says that the only person she ever had sex with in the back of her tour bus was Brad Paisley–gee, I really didn’t need to know that) anything but a request for forgiveness.
While Ms Wright’s relationship with Brad Paisley was well-known at the time and there was no way she could have written her tale lacking mentioning him, giving him the same treatment she gave Vince Gill–in one paragraph.
It is nearly tragic that, in my view, that one chapter colored the rest of what could have been a painstakingly touching book. Yet, even as I was stirred by her tale, I still have the terrible taste in my mouth from her unneeded account of Brad Paisley.
Reader’s Rating: 2 / 5
It was not the tale for me because I have absolutely no issue with a name’s sexuality. And I also haven’t had to go through the pain that Chely has had to. So it was hard to end the book after awhile. The whole topic is a mute point. I guess I should have known that before I bought it. But she does a fantastic job of sharing her life tale up to this point. And for persons folks in similar situations (not being right to themselves) I trust she will provide a lot of inspiration! And please let me note that I completely know that people in the gay community deal with SO much misfortune…it just has not hit me on a personal level.
She seems like an absolutely wonderful individual and it is a bring shame on she had to spend so many years of her life in “hiding” and not being right to herself. No one should live that life. So to me the whole issue was mute and topic pisses me off because I can not bear intolerate and ignorant people. Many thanks to Chely for sharing her tale and glad she is living that life she should have many years ago.
Reader’s Rating: 3 / 5
Chely Wright has an vital tale to tell and she demonstrates right courage in putting it in writing. Sorry to say, but, she is not the world’s greatest storyteller. So, much of this exceptional tale makes for an unexceptional read. Most of the book amounts to your everyday celebrity memoir: a linear list of events, with small or no color, intrigue, or character. For instance: She tells of meeting up with a young serviceman on one of her many ventures to entertain troops in the Middle East. She bonded with this boy in particular because he not only fought in the same division as Ms. Wright’s grandfather, but also shared his last name, Henry. What she leaves missing is any characterization or description to endear this young man to the reader. Furthermore, she fails to relay any anecdote or exchange of dialogue to give him a living dimension. Then, the leader goes on to refer to Private Henry time and time again on subsequent pages–most notably that he was killed in combat soon after Wright met him. This is predictable of most of this book. Dimensionless characters; events with no context; scant ambience; few seasons. It lacks real touchstones to draw the reader into the tale.
That being said, miraculously, about three quarters of the way through, we get a very pleasant surprise: The lady suddenly starts to blossom into a rather decent writer, sharing some very compelling moments, and offering some inventive and colorful language, within the remaining heartfelt, rather well-composed essays about her lifetime struggle to reconcile her innate sexuality.
I was really looking forwards to this book for a number of reasons. For one, I’ve been a fan of the artist, even though, when super-producer/MCA mark chief Tony Brown urged her to record one of my songs, she refused–because the lyric placed the singer in a barroom. A country composition artist declining to sing a song because it had to do with dancing and drinking beer in a bar? What is the world coming to? Anyway, she selected another tune as a replacement for (not mine, btw) called “Single White Female.” That one did reasonably well for her. So, I guessed the girl must be a pretty sharp cookie. I saw Chely perform live once–at a July 4th celebration. She sang with the Nashville Symphony, rocked Centennial Park, and impressed me as a very attractive, poised professional with a distinctive voice. I permanently wondered why she had never achieved a privileged level of stardom. I had heard the scuttlebutt around Composition Row that she was a lesbian, partnered with a certain female record company A&R exec.
There is heart-rending pathos on these pages. Stern, conservative, Midwestern roots. A hard-drinking father and a stoic, polio-crippled mother, parents who factually tortured and abused Chely’s overweight sister and featherweight brother. Meanwhile, pretty, smart, talented Chely tried desperately to be the excellent girl, while begging God to take away her sinful desires. This is classic Americana. I admit that I felt a small uncomfortable when she got to naming names, particularly when describing spurning the advances of poor, naïve, like-struck Brad Paisley. But, I particularly loved her outing of John Rich as the self-righteous, pedantic, right-wing egomaniac he so obviously is.
The details of her very dysfunctional relationships with two significant others demonstrate a lack of self esteem that is at the very core of this tale, and is ultimately never resolved. I can only hope that writing and publishing this confessional has set Chely Wright on the path to finding forgiveness for herself and a like for her own inner beauty. I salute her for her courage to really become the first gay country composition artist ever to really come out publicly. She has left a significant number still singing in the closet, which makes her the most courageous of the lot–by far! I fervently suspect that Ms. Wright is now learning a new and even more loyal audience to embrace her authentic persona and her talents because she has, at long last, chosen to be really honest with the face in the mirror, the face of a born lesbian.
Kudos to you, Chely Wright. May you find every happiness that you so richly deserve. And, keep writing. I know from experience: the more ya do it, the better ya get at it.
Rand Bishop, leader of Makin’ Stuff Up, The Absolute Essentials of Songwriting Success, and the novel/mock memoir, Grand Pop.
Reader’s Rating: 3 / 5
It took a lot of courage for Chely to write this book. It was like reading a name’s diary and she certainly has place her whole self out there. I only hope that “Julia” comes to her senses and realizes what she has lost so these two can get on with their lives together.
Reader’s Rating: 5 / 5
As a huge country fan I was surprised about how deeply Chely Wright was open in her book. It was very revealing about her life and to what lengths she was willing to go to try to hide who she was. I’m very glad she finally chose to write this book. I have utmost respect for her. I would recomment this book to anyone willing to open their minds and hearts to her moving tale.
Reader’s Rating: 4 / 5