The Only Pirate at the Party

by Lindsey Stirling

  When I was a teenager, the Echo was the “good car” in our family (meaning it was the one with air-conditioning), and driving it was a privilege. When I left for college, my parents handed me the keys and a map with the road home traced in yellow highlighter. I learned to drive a stick shift in this car, I practically lived out of it as a traveling musician, I drove it to LA to chase my dreams, and I currently spend several hours a week sitting in it on the 405. I think it’s safe to say this car knows me better than most of my closest friends. You could say I’m a little sentimental about it, but ultimately, I haven’t replaced the Echo because it still works.

  “But you can afford it,” some say.

  I’ve never understood this mentality. Simply having the money to buy a new car means I should? I guess I should also buy a pontoon boat, or a camel, or a hot air balloon. Granted, a new set of wheels is much more practical than any of the above, but if it ain’t broke, why fix it? My parents always drove used cars, and they didn’t replace them until they had to be pushed off the road.

  I remember when “the Babe” finally hit the dust. She was a gray 1990 Toyota Previa that saw me through my entire childhood and nearly ten family road trips to Rocky Point, Mexico. I was twelve when the air-conditioning broke, and I overheard my mom tell my dad it would cost $1,600 to get it fixed. At the time, it had over 150,000 miles, and they both assumed it wouldn’t last long enough to justify the expense. Five years later, my mom was still driving it around Arizona like a giant rolling toaster oven. During the summer, she did most of her errands in the early mornings. When we had to get around during the day, we rested our necks on ice packs that melted quickly, leaving a mixture of water and sweat dripping down our backs. We also rode with the windows down and wore minimal clothing. On family vacations, my parents took out the middle seat and let us kids sit on the floor picnic style to distract us from the heat. It was a hot, exciting, and slightly hazardous system.

  One summer my sisters and I needed vaccinations before going back to school, and the only available opening was in the middle of the day. When we finally arrived after the thirty-minute drive, the doctor took our temperatures and we all had fevers. My mom put her head in her hands and let out an exasperated laugh.

  Despite the Babe’s shortcomings, I loved driving her in high school. It was the only vehicle that could fit all my friends, making it the unanimous car of choice on the weekends. In addition to the broken AC, the dashboard lights didn’t turn on, and the front passenger door was permanently locked. Accidental speeding at night was inevitable, and whoever rode shotgun had to climb in and out through the window; we were the cooler version of a clown car. Instead of letting it become an embarrassment, it became a symbol of our friendship. Then one day of my senior year in high school, on the way to Melody Smith’s eighties-themed birthday party, the Babe rolled to a stop at the light on Pecos Road and never started up again. After that, my parents bought a white 1991 Chevy Suburban that Brooke and I named “Sub Zero.” It lacked air-conditioning and a radio, but it pulled Brooke’s horse trailer around town and had enough room for all my friends, so we didn’t complain.

  When I first moved to LA I spent a lot of time with my new management at the Atom Factory office. After I had been there for several months, one of the office assistants pulled me aside and asked, “So what’s with the car?” Apparently everyone in the office had been buzzing about my sweet ride. They all wanted to know why I didn’t drive something nicer.

  At one point, Adina even tried to stage a car intervention. I went through a phase where I really wanted a smart car or a MINI Cooper, so she hooked me up with BMW, and they gave me a Cooper to drive for a week. It was candy-apple red with blue interior lighting, and we zipped around town like we were made for each other. At the end of the week, they offered me the car at a discount. My mouth started to water, but I passed. This was probably baffling to Adina—why didn’t I want the car?! I guess it comes down to the fact that I don’t have a lot of “normals” left in my life. But I do have my used car, which reminds me of the cars my parents always drove (and still drive) and the cars I grew up driving. When I’m in my Echo, it feels like a piece of home.

  I want to be clear that I’m not preaching new-car abstinence. If you’ve earned it, go for it! I spend a lot of money elsewhere, on things I think are necessary to advance my career—music videos, studio time, touring—and sometimes I worry these things put me a little out of touch with reality. Luckily, I am still surrounded by friends and family who live humble and beautiful lives. Driving my trusty car makes me feel connected to them and to my upbringing. Someday I’m sure I’ll buy a newer car with a better safety rating and automatic windows (I’d even take a cassette player). But probably not until I have to push my Echo off the road. This car and I, we go way back.

  BEST

  FOR LAST

  Originally, I planned to end this book with a chapter about winning a Grammy for Best Contemporary Instrumental Album. It was going to be one of the best moments of my life! Unfortunately, I didn’t make it past the early nomination phase. For those of you who aren’t familiar with how the process works, anyone in the business can pre-nominate themselves for a Grammy. Following this, all initial nominees go before a committee, who ultimately vote on the final nominations. In my category, I felt confident I was the front-runner and everyone I knew was stroking my ego like it was a soft kitten. I had it in the bag. You can imagine my disappointment when I opened this hypothetical bag and there was nothing inside. Not even a consolation cookie.

  For professional reasons, I had already told people in the industry I was going to be at the Grammys on February 8, 2015, and my management made plans around winning the aforementioned award. When I heard I was out of the running, I crawled away from the scene with my tail between my legs. “Actually, I am not going to be busy after all . . .”

  In frustration, I called my mom. I complained that no one in the industry took me seriously, and said I was sick and tired of having to hustle just to prove I belonged. What did I have to do to earn a little respect in the music community? It’s moments like these that I forget how far I’ve already come, and how lucky I am to be holding an empty Grammy nomination bag in the first place. It would have been really cool to be the first YouTuber to win one, but it would also be really cool to make music and travel the world for a living . . . ahem.

  A few weeks after I didn’t win a Grammy, Adina contacted me to let me know I had been chosen as part of Forbes’s 30 Under 30 in Music for 2015. I dropped my empty Grammy bag like a hot potato so I could call my mom. I was pretty embarrassed at how upset I had been about being overlooked for the Grammy, and I was equally embarrassed when I realized it had taken a different prize to get me over it. Recognition is good for the soul, but my self-worth shouldn’t have been dependent on the opinions of others. It’s a lesson I’ve had to learn and relearn. In fact, these last few years I have been slipping and sliding up and down one giant learning curve. I’ve had to learn who to trust and how to delegate. I’ve learned to find value in my own integrity and when to say no to opportunity. I’ve learned how to share myself with the world and be comfortable with the criticism that may follow. I’ve had to learn how to dance on a hot stage for ninety minutes without passing out. And I’ve had to learn to live in the present, rather than in spite of it.

  Once upon a time I thought I blew the greatest moment of my life. I no longer believe that is possible. Life is kind and full of great moments, but I think the greatest moment of my life is always ahead of me. When I reach it, there will be another, greater moment to come.

  One of the questions I get asked the most in interviews is “Where do you see yourself in five or ten years?” More has happened in the last three years than I ever thought possible. I can’t begin to imagine what the next five or ten years will hold. I don’t even know what next year will bring! I spend a lot of time planning for what’s next: my next show, my next tour, my next album, my next music video. It’s pa
rt of the job. But I want to spend more time balancing in the present. It’s the only thing that truly exists. If I’m too busy ruminating over the past or pining for the future, some of those great moments will pass by before I get the chance to live in them. I don’t want to look back and recognize some of my great moments in hindsight, after the opportunity to enjoy them has come and gone.

  I put my favorite moments into the pages of this book, but I have to believe the best chapters are yet to come. I don’t know what they are yet, because if I look too far into the future, I could miss out on what’s happening right now. I imagine those chapters will involve my violin, the people that love and inspire me, and a lot more learning. Writing this book has been one of my great moments. Thank you for sharing it with me. Here’s to the greatest moments of all our lives.

  Fair Winds and Godspeed,

  Lindsey

  P.S.

  It’s Grammy nomination time again, and Adina just called to inform me that the most promising award I’m eligible for this year is Best Boxed or Special Limited Edition Packaging. . . . I have it in the bag!

  FOR THE PEOPLE

  WHO HAVE A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART, I MADE A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY BOOK

  Adina Friedman—Aside from my own mother, no one cares more about my well-being than this lady. Sometimes I email her at 3:07 A.M., and she replies around 3:08. She is my manager, my travel buddy, and the more organized half of my brain.

  Ty Stiklorius—One of the most influential women in the music industry, and the reason I still believe it is possible to be a business powerhouse and a successful wife/mother.

  Jani Dix—Our sophomore year of college she found me crying in the bathroom, trying to fix a terrible haircut I had given myself. She handed me a beanie and took me out for ice cream. Life has taken us in different directions, but I know I can always count on her for a hypothetical beanie and ice cream cone when I need it most.

  Kaitlyn Tanner—On my mission I taught her how to walk fast and talk to strangers. She taught me how to love deeper and find the goodness in everyone. Being her companion was one of the greatest blessings of my mission. Being her friend since has been one of the greatest blessings of my life.

  Aimee Patton—Living proof of the power of faith and perseverance. In my youth she was a loving mentor, and in my adult years she has become a dear and unwavering friend.

  IN LOVING MEMORY OF

  JASON GAVIATI

  April 27, 1980–November 21, 2015

  Gavi passed away after the completion of this book, but before it was published. Losing him was the darkest period of my life, but he will always be a light in my memory. When I think of him, I will always imagine him laughing, because that’s what Gavi was best at—making people laugh and spreading joy. I love you, Gavi. I love you more than you will ever know.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First and foremost, thank you to Mom and Dad Stirling, for teaching us that dreams are never wasted, and for helping to create the stories that ended up on these pages.

  Thank you to Ty Stiklorius, Troy Carter, Zach Felber, Lee Loechler, Lillian Williams, Reid Hunter, Laxmi Vijay Sankar, David Gold, and the rest of the Atom Factory family for believing in our random ideas, including this book.

  Thank you to our friend and first editor Natalli Ellsworth, for making sure we didn’t embarrass ourselves in front of the bigwigs. And for leaving honest comments in the margins like, “You make a good point, but it reads a little like a middle school motivational poster.”

  Thank you to our agent Erin Malone for finding a home for our book baby, and the WME team for everything in between.

  Thank you to our editor Jeremie Ruby-Strauss, for using the words “hilarious and moving” to describe our book proposal, and for taking a chance on two rookies. Thank you to Nina Cordes for answering all our e-mails with lightning speed, and for sounding excited to speak with us on the phone that one time. Also to Gallery’s Louise Burke, Jen Bergstrom, Kristin Dwyer, Liz Psaltis, Diana Velasquez, Jennifer Weidman, and copy editor Dominick Montalto.

  Thank you to my husband, Austin (Brooke speaking), who has never doubted a single dream I ask him to chase with me. And to my clients, family, and friends who willingly took a backseat to this book for the past few years of my life.

  Thank you to my manager, Adina Friedman (Lindsey speaking), who is always in my corner, forever, no matter what. And thank you to the loyal friends whom I bothered repeatedly for memories and old photos.

  Thank you to every member of my crew for your time, talents, and friendship.

  Thank you to the brilliant photographers whose art contributed to this book: Robin Roemer, Leavitt Wells, Adam Elmakias, Mikael Hakali, Amy Harris, Katie Rich, Jon D. Barker, Tim Tronckoe, Ray Shum, Nicole Fara Silver, Timothy Nguyen, Sharolyn Lindsay, and Annie Randall Pratt.

  Thank you to these beautiful people for the endless love and support: Jennifer Stirling, Marina Inagaki, Vova Stirling, Erich Jackson, Jason Gaviati, Drew Steen, Michelle Miller, Keri Latta, Leslie Landers, Whitney Marcum, Janet Willis, Lilly Singh, Janelle Scott, Matt Ang, and Meghan Camarena.

  And a special thanks to the Wi-Fi connections around the world that made our late-night, post-show, delirious book writing sessions possible. We owe you one.

  LINDSEY STIRLING is an acclaimed electronic violinist who has over seven million YouTube subscribers and one billion views on her YouTube channel. She has enjoyed Billboard chart-topping hits and sold-out tours worldwide, all without the backing of a label. To date, she has released two studio albums: her 2013 self-titled debut, and the smash 2014 follow-up, Shatter Me. The latter debuted at #2 on the Billboard 200 and won her a Billboard Music Award for Top Dance/Electronic Album. Onstage, Lindsey combines the infectious energy of dance, electronica, and modern classical music with ballet-inspired dance moves. In her spare time, Lindsey is a motivational speaker, and she uses her own story to help others build confidence, hope, and passion.

  BROOKE S. PASSEY is a writer, a horseback- riding instructor, and the coauthor of this book. She is also a member of her local book club, The Muumuu Society, where women of all ages gather in support of literature and muumuu sales. Brooke currently lives in Arizona with her husband, several horses, and a puggle with an embarrassing underbite.

  FOR MORE ON THESE AUTHORS:

  authors.simonandschuster.com/Lindsey-Stirling

  authors.simonandschuster.com/Brooke-S-Passey

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  SimonandSchuster.com

  Facebook.com/GalleryBooks

  @GalleryBooks

  www.lindseystirling.com

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  PHOTO

  CREDITS

  Photos by Mom: pgs. 3, 6, 8, 12, 16, 17, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 35, 38, 42, 57, 61

  Courtesy of Amy Williamson: pg. 46

  Courtesy of Trisha Anderson: pg. 50

  Courtesy of the author: pgs. 64, 69, 75, 80, 121, 126, 135, 137, 165, 175, 181, 189, 196, 199, 206, 223, 226, 232, 248

  Courtesy of Sharolyn Lindsay: pg. 83

  Courtesy of Devin Graham: pg. 128

  Courtesy of Leavitt Wells / Leave it to Leavitt Photography: pg. 145

  Courtesy of Erich Jackson: pg. 156

  Photo by @imgavi: pgs. 159, 163

  Photograph by Jon D. Barker (@jondbarker on social media): pg. 161

  Photo by Amy Harris: pgs. 170, 231

  Adam Elmakias Photography: pgs. 191, 256

  Courtesy of Adina Friedman: pgs. 203, 209, 243, 247

  PHOTO INSERT

  CAPTIONS AND CREDITS

  Page 1

  Top left: © Timothy Nguyen Photography


  Top right: Photo by Ray Shum

  Left, second from top: © Timothy Nguyen Photography

  Right, second from top: Courtesy of Janelle Huopalainen

  Left, second from bottom: © Timothy Nguyen Photography

  Center, second from bottom: Mikael Hakali Photography

  Bottom left: Photography by Nicole Fara Silver

  Bottom right: Mikael Hakali Photography

  Page 2

  Top left: Photo by Katie Rich

  Top right: Mikael Hakali Photography

  Left, second from top: Mikael Hakali Photography

  Left, second from bottom: Mikael Hakali Photography

  Center right: Photography by Tim Tronckoe (www.timtronckoe.com)

  Bottom left: Photography by Nicole Fara Silver

  Bottom right: Photography by Tim Tronckoe (www.timtronckoe.com)

  Page 3

  Top left: Courtesy of Jani Dix

  Top right: Disneyland with the family Courtesy of the author

  Left, second from top: Behind The Scenes for “Dragon Age” Courtesy of the author

  Center, second from top: With my Mission companion/college roommate, Kaitlyn, before the mud run Courtesy of Devin Graham

  Right, second from top: Photography by Tim Tronckoe (www.timtronckoe.com)

  Left, second from bottom: College rainbow costume Courtesy of the author