Vacation! and this and that . . .

Yes, I am on vacation all next week.

What am I planning? Well, I have around ten characters who have to have an extremely unpleasant demise. In other words, I'm hoping to be over halfway through this spec script by this time next Friday. Plus, Atari (my dog) has his yearly physical Monday morning. His shots, that sort of thing.

Atari, as I've said previously, is really old for an Akita. Their life expectancy is eight years--I'm estimating around the first of September Atari will be 13. He's got arthritis, so he doesn't get around all that well any more, and his kidneys are failing. Plus he has this skin condition that's common to Akitas (and Shiba Inus, too--but really they're just min-Akitas). So he has a tendency to get skin infections. I don't think he has one of those right now, though--he's actually doing pretty well in that area.

But he hates it when it rains--I think it stiffens his joints right up. Poor boy. I know the medicine helps, but not enough, I know.

I have noticed that Atari's relationships with cats sort of mimic my relationships with women. He thinks they're beautiful, fascinating, fun to be around . . . and they think he is either beneaith their notice or they are terrified of him. Been there, done that . . .

Tonight I'm watching Eureka and Haven on Syfy. Other than that, and listening to some music, I'm just chilling. Trying not to think too hard about things. I have a big decision to make--problem with it is I'm supposed to make this decision withou the bare minimum of information. I won't go into details yet, but it involves my job. I'll blog about it soon, I promise. If you care.

What are you doing this weekend? Something fun? Working, What?

Hmmm . . . time sink or something fun? And maybe profitable?

So, I've been following the Vampire Mob web-series, and the more I see the more intrigued I get.

Not necessarily about the show, though it is fun, well-made, and worth your time, and I urge you to check it out if you haven't already. No, it's the format I find especially interesting.

The website has the first episode. Upon 5,000 views, the second is unlocked. And so on, up to the sixth.  So, as of right now you can go over there and watch the first two episodes, and soon you'll be able to watch the first three episodes.

But I kind of like the idea of doing something short, like this show. Each episode is around five minutes long, I'd say--maybe a little more. I haven't actually timed them out. But I can dash off a five pager in a couple days. I can do around six of those in a couple of weeks, I think.

Problem is, right now I don't have an idea for something like that, I just think I'd like to do it. Most of my ideas are a helluva lot longer than five minutes. My stuff tends to grow arms and legs and tentacles and whatnot, getting more and more complicated as I get into it . . . so maybe doing something short would be both theraputic and educational for me.

I dunno. I'm not gonna work on anything else until I finish the spec script I'm working on now, so there's no hurry. I'm sure something will occur to me in the mean time, idea-wise.

But what do you think? I know web-based shows have been around for a while now--do you watch them? Take the little survey you'll see there, in the upper-right corner, so I can have some sort of idea whether or not this'll be worth-while. It'll be there a month or so. Or just leave me a comment.

The fate of my so-far extremely hypothetical web-based show is in your hands!

To all my call center bretheren

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed below are strictly my own. They are not representative of the opinions of my employer, my dad, my best friend, my dog, or anybody else. They are strictly mine. Okay? Okay.

I hear you, call center vets, thinking to yourselves, "Who the hell does this guy think he is, giving us advice?"

I've been working in a call center for over a decade now. I've pretty much heard it all. While I know there are others who know more about it than me, I have driven around this block a few times and know where the bad stretches of road are.

For example--the accusation, implied or stated outright, that the caller did something wrong. Even little, insignificant things. If at all possible, do not do this!

Think about it--your siggoth says something like, "You left the seat up/down again." Even if this is an extremely minor issue with you, something that's just a tiny annoyance--on a scale of one to ten, it's about a 0.5--it still starts you down that road to aggravationville. If you siggoth follows it up with, "I'm sorry, but I just don't feel like going out tonight" or something like that, you are even further along. Where before you might be inclined to understand and be sympathetic, since you are already a bit irritated you just get a little more irritated. A few more remarks and the neighbors are calling the cops.

For example--I get calls all the time from people who are trying to set up our software. There are detailed, meticulously written (by me) and illustrated articles (screenshots, anyway--again, by me) on our website that anyone should be able to follow.

The article on setting our software up is 40 pages long, but it's like a picture per page, so, text-wise, it ain't all that much. I still have people who get to page five and for some reason think they're finished. The remaining 35 pages aren't there for decoration but they seem to ignore this. So, they start using our software and it doesn't work right. They call me. I look at what they're doing and see that they have failed to follow the directions I wrote that anybody should be able to follow.

I'm tempted to let my irritation show. Instead, I say something like "Your file came in without your ID." Like it just came in that way--not like "You didn't follow the directions you moron!" It's more like, "Huh. How did that happen? But we can fix that like this . . . " and I walk them through the remainder of the instructions. Which takes maybe five minutes, normally.

It's not hard, really, once you become aware of it. When you accuse, the walls come up. You don't need that. I know I don't. The important thing is to resolve the issue to the caller's satisfaction, which you will probably be able to do most of the time. Not all the time, but most of it.

Go, thou, and do likewise.

The Art of Conversation

I came across this article today on CNN.com, about how to keep the conversation going with your spouse after you've been married for 20 years.

Maybe I'm just completely crazy, but really, after you've been with someone that long, what is left to talk about? Other than your day at the office or whatever?

Of course, I'm not the most sociable person on the planet, and I often find that I'm searching my rapidly diminishing mind for conversational topic when attempting to engage in coversation. I fail at that a lot, and we have prolonged, awkward silence, where she is assuming that she's said or done something to offend me or has totally shocked me, and I'm wondering if she's up for a twenty-minute dissertation on the impact of the film Alien because at that moment that's all I can think of.

Cover of Alien (The Director's Cut)

That, or the wonders and mysteries of heavy metal music.

Other people don't seem to have this problem. People who sit next to each other all day at work and hang out together after work don't seem to have this problem. I have eaves-dropped a few times, though, and have discovered at most of the conversation appears to be the same few phrases being repeated over and over again. In short, they really aren't having a conversation, they're just making noises.

Which is what leads me to believe that conversation really is over-rated. Hey, if the sex is okay (at least you're getting some, right?), and you can tolerate each other, and you aren't keeping secrets, then what else do you need, anyway?

Of course, since I'm perpetually single and have given up on dating, this makes me an expert on the subject.

Broken Toys

I just added a new tune, "Broken Toys." It's an instrumental, inspired by some characters in this screenplay I've been working on. You can click on any of the links above to give it a listen--if you go to iLike or the Facebook page, you'll be able to download the free MP3, too, if you are so inclined. If you just don't want to go to that much trouble, click here for my MySpace page, here for my Facebook page, or here for the iLike page. It's the first song listed in all locations. If you go to Facebook and dig it be sure to click "Like." And feel free to listen to the other stuff that's there, too. And download any available free MP3s, too, that tickle your fancy, on iLike or Facebook. (Same thing, actually, kinda.)

I hope you give it a listen, and let me know what you think!

Beast of Love lyrics

I thought since I'm asking people to vote for this tune in this contest (here, if you want to vote for it, or just want to hear it), that it would only be fair to post the lyrics to the thing. So, here they are. Prepare to be illuminated and astonished at your new understanding of the human condition:

She picked me outside of town


in her fast car with the top down

she said "I think I've seen you around

In a place where angels fear to tread."



I said "I think you're right, I've seen you, too.

You skin so pale, your eyes so blue

In that place where all fees are past due

And if you're not desperate you're dead."



They were beasts, sat down to feast

They were the beasts of love.



She said "You have a reputation in certain circles

A status that's nearly mythical

An outlook that's hardly ethical

to those who aren't in the know."



I said nothing, I couldn't disagree

the silence grew long between her and me

I didn't know what she wanted me to be

an ebb, maybe, or a flow?



She was a beast, she was at the feast

she was a beast of love.



She dropped the hammer down, away we flew

abandoned the old, racing towards the new

we hardly knew what we were getting into

that lonesome and fateful night.



She stopped in a desolate spot

I knew, here we go, ready or not

She didn't take it all, only a lot

I gave it up without a fight



Now I'm a beast, to say the least

I am a beast of love.



We're all beasts, at the feast

we're all beasts of love



words and music by J Franklin Evans

Musical randomocity for a Friday night

I reached a really minor milestone tonight.

I was stretched out on the couch listening to one of my favorite songs--Epica's "Design Your Universe" from the album of the same name. Earbuds in ear, volume cranked up, eyes closed, chillin'.

Cover of Design Your Universe

This is one of those epic songs--almost nine-and-a-half minutes long, orchestra, chorus, distorted guitars . . . plus Simone Simons' incredible voice.

Simone Simons via last.fm

There's a point about 2/3 of the way into it, sort of the climax of the piece, a point the preceding music has been leading to. The payoff, I guess. It begins with Simone singing, "The time has come . . ." All sorts of magical stuff happens at that point.

Except every freaking time I get to that point, Atari, my Akita, almost always cold-noses me on the cheek. Wanna go walkies. Now. So I have to pause the iPod and hook him up and take him outside. Sort of diminishes the impact.

Didn't happen this time. I was sort of worried--Atari's really old for his breed. I went to check and he was basically making out with a Milk Bone in the back bedroom. So, he was fine, and too preoccupied to notice that he'd missed his cue.

My dog has discriminating musical tastes. He only likes classic Metallica--if it's post-Black album, he's not interested. If it's anything else, he's not interested. I'll start playing some of my own stuff and he gets up and leaves the room, giving me a contemptuous little "snort!" as he does so. I halfway expect to hear the door slam behind him.

In case you haven't noticed, my tastes in music tend towards the harder end of the spectrum. I like music that is overtly emotional, and I tend to find what I'm looking for in metal and hard rock. I also dig black spritual music, even though I'm an atheist, because of the emotion apparent in a lot of that music. I may not believe what they sing about, but *they* do, and they put it all in their music. I love it.

Of course, as I get older I tend to mellow a bit. Right now I'm more into Scandinavian symphonic metal, mostly, like Epica. Though I love Tristania, which is more gothic metal. Kamelot is cool, too. Of course there is other stuff I like a lot--I love Slipknot, Rob Zombie, Tool . . .

I guess I really don't have a point, tonight. I just felt like talking. I'm glad you felt like listening. What kind of music are you listening to, these days?

Why bad movies are so irritating. To me, anyway.

Pay attention, class. This one always seems to get me into trouble, because I'm invoking that dangerous, crafty beast, the Metaphor.

Say you love prestidigitation--aka, stage magic. You practice in front of a mirror for hours a day. You are constantly thinking of ways to improve your gags, make your patter a little smoother, or how to do something new. Maybe you aren't the best in the world--though you do amaze your friends and get invited to parties a lot--but then again, maybe you are. If you could just catch a break.

You love magic, is what I'm saying. You know it. You study it. You have a deep, abiding appreciation of it.

So, you go to see a stage magician--somebody nobody has ever heard of, a young guy, just getting started. But he's great. Even gags you do yourself he pulls off with aplomb, with ease, fluidity, like he really is doing magic, with a running patter that is witty and natural-sounding. And he usually works in a little surprise, takes a sudden, unexpected turn, so that you get caught off guard.

Everyone else thinks he's nothing special, really. You, however, while jealous of his talent, are in awe.

Now, you go to see someone everyone has heard of. He's on TV all the time, he has a show in Vegas, etc., etc. He has a huge, glitzy stage show, scantily clad and hot assistants, all that. You find yourself bored. His gags are all store bought and are just larger examples of stuff you do yourself--or would, if you were just starting out. He's not particularly clever, or even skilled--his assistants do most of the work while he takes all the credit.

Everyone else in the crowd thinks he's incredible. You detest him.

So you can imagine how *I* feel, when I go to see a poorly written film. Take, just for an example, Avatar. Others loved the special effects--to be honest, while they were impressive, I was largely indifferent to them. The only thing I cared about was the story, and this one was trite, done-to-death, by-the-numbers . . . I could look at my watch (if I owned a watch) and tell what plot point was coming up. Okay, here's where the hero meets and becomes intrigued by the chief's daughter. Here's where he meets the chief's daughter's boyfriend. Here's where his mentor dies. Here's where . . . you get the idea.

This is why stuff like this gets under my skin so badly. I know I'm not the greatest writer in the world. I think I'm okay in that area--there are many who are better. But there are many many more who are worse, of this I am sure.

But for crying out loud, if you are just going to rehash something that has been done since the dawn of time, do *something* different. Make the central character a female and have her fall in love with the chief's son. Or make him gay. Or something. Anything.

Okay, that one had been building for a while. I feel better now. Thank you.

The essential antagonist

Bad guys in films and fiction always get a bad rap, in my opinion.

Think about your favorite films. The hero or heroine triumphing over a seemingly unbeatable villian, no? Overcoming impossible odds? Somehow, through cleverness, clean livin', or whatnot, the hero overcomes. You stand up, you cheer. Hurrah.

But who made all this possible in the first place? The bad guy. That's who.

If it's obvious that he or she is no match for the hero, it's just not interesting. It's when the bad guy is terrifying, invincible, and also kinda hot, when things become interesting.

But does anybody remember the bad guy? No. But everybody remembers the hero.

So, let's send Iago and Lex Luther some love, okay? Who would Othello or Superman be without them? A couple of guys nobody ever heard of, that's who.

Character studies: Daniel Jackson

For those of you who don't know, Daniel Jackson is the character created by James Spader in the Stargate movie and elaborated a bit by Michael Shanks in the TV series Stargate SG-1.

I'm a big fan of the show--the movie's cool, too, but I love the show, for a variety of reasons (besides just being able to stare at Amanda Tapping). One reason is the character of Daniel, who I find fascinating.

Daniel, as Shanks portrayed him, was the moral voice of the show. He believed the right thing to do remained the right thing to do even if it became expensive, troublesome, or inconvenient. And he never stopped expressing his convictions, even when everyone disagreed, and even when doing so put his life in danger. Granted, this sometimes made him a real pain-in-the-ass, but a necessary one, because he was usually right.

It would have been different if he insisted on one strict point-of-view--if he were, for example, Christian, and insisted that those ideals be enforced and embraced. That wasn't it, though--Daniel felt like people should be given a chance, even if doing so meant he or those he represents would be inconvenienced.

He was so stubborn and so outspoken that even the Goa'uld, who respected no-one and were just out for themselves, respected Daniel.

It's a terribly interesting character and I'm sort of riffing on that idea now, with some changes, of course. But check out Stargate SG-1--especially seasons 3-7 (even though he was out for most of season 5, I think it was). You'll really enjoy yourself, and you'll see how interesting characters can carry a show.

The Screenwriter as Shaman?

Anyone who knows me knows I have this . . . well, not obsession, I'd say, but a keen interest in how mythology develops, evolves, and affects society.

As such I read a lot of Joseph Campbell (and I recommend him to you if you are one of the four or five people who haven't indulged yet). I was reading an interview between Campbell and the reporter (and Campbell student) Bill Moyers called The Power of Myth, where they were discussing how movies in a way replace the role of ritual in our modern existance.

Rituals are important, even for non-religious people like me, because they mark a boundary. Once a boy goes through the circumcision ritual of the Australian Aborigines, for example, he knows that he is now expected to act like a man, and childish behavior is no longer tolerated. It's a traumatic experience that carries with it a physical reminder.

We don't have anything like that anymore in our culture, which Campbell felt (and I sort of agree) causes a lot of problems. There is no longer a dividing line between childhood and adulthood, other than the arbitrary one of the age of majority. There is nothing one can point to and say, "See, I am now a man." Or woman.

Campbell felt that, in a way, movies replaced that experience, and it occurred to me today that he was right. Campbell felt that this was not necessarily a good thing, as screenwriters and filmmakers are in this to make money, not initiate people.

I do believe, however, that there is a genre of film that *could* serve this function, almost accidentally.

It's not an original idea with me--if I remember correctly, Stephen King mentions it in his book Danse Macabre--but it seems to me that horror movies can become sort of a replacement.

Think about it--they're rated R so children can't get in. Good ones are a traumatic experience. Afterwards you feel . . . different. If it's one of the really *good* horror movies. Good horror movies almost *have* to have the same qualities of those rituals I was talking about earlier. If they don't then they aren't *good* horror movies.

I'm talking about one of those films that makes you forget you are watching a film. One of those that has you trembling during the opening credits. One of those that makes you forget there are other people around you in the theater.

Alien did that to me. So did Jaws. But I'm talking now about films that did that to *you*. A film that may utterly terrify me may just bore the hell out of you. And vice versa--I found The Exorcist dull and never did see why it was so frightening to so many.

I'm attempting something like that with what I'm working on now--hopefully it'll be considered an initiation type film. And that's going to be what I call really *good* horror films from now on--initiation type films.

What do you think? Am I way off base? What would you consider your initiation type films?

Friday morning

For some reason I woke up in a really bad mood. I'm not sure why. Hopefully my mood will improve as the day goes by. It is Friday, after all, for cryin' out loud.

I have a major life decision to make, in the next few years. I know, *years*, so it sounds like there's forever before I have to decide. Problem is, I can't get a more specific time frame--it may only be *one* year, it may be *three*. I can't at this point go into more details, but it involves my job.

Hell, a lot can happen. By that time I may be a successful screenwriter and recording artist and won't be working there anyway. Who knows? Still, though, it weighs heavily on my mind. I try to embrace change, but it's hard, sometimes.

In a much shorter time-frame, I'm going to start writing this spec script this weekend. Dammit. I am excited about it--it's going to be really good. I just need to keep the mission statement in mind as I'm typing away.

So, pardon my mood--I'm sure by this afternoon I'll be chippy again. How are things with you? Any weekend plans?

If anybody should want to help me out . . .

I entered my song, "Beast of Love," in this contest over on MySpace. You can click here to vote for me, and it. You can also listen to it, which I hope you'll do, at least once.

I know I don't have a prayer of winning this thing but it'd be nice to get some attention for it--it's one of my better efforts and I think it's kinda catchy and amusing and a little frightening, which is what I was aiming for. Anyway, voting for it will be doing me a solid. Feel free to comment on it, here or over on MySpace, or Facebook, if you want, too.

This is how it works

Okay, here's a glimpse into a typical, uh, incident, in my life.

I get home today from watching Predators and I'm watching TV, chilling out, when I hear the sound of a piece of paper being slipped through the crack in my door. I get up and grab it--it's a note from my cable provider. They are auditing the apartment complex, looking for illegal connections. The note says that if I still have a connection then I'm cool--however, if I had an illegal connection, it won't work anymore.

While I'm reading this, my connection goes out. I call the number in the note and the guy who answers is puzzled. He said they had audited my building hours earlier. He comes over (they were still on the property) and checks my connection. Then he checks out back. Then he checks the connection again. Then he says he's going back to his truck to get a meter--about fifteen minutes later he calls. The cable is apparently out for *everyone* over here and he was calling a repair crew.

So, I'm not upset, really, at the cable company--it's bound to go out every now and then. I'm not mad that they were auditing the connections--I'd do the same thing. I'm not mad at anybody, really. But this is how my life works--a bunch of coincidences, random chances, bolts from the blue, that all come together simultaneously into a cohesive ball of painintheassitude, just to be sure that my life is interesting.

Don't mind me. I'm just venting. At least the guys were still around, and it was back on an hour or so later. And there really isn't anything on that I had my heart set on watching. So, I'll get over it.

Day off musings

I took today off to catch a matinee showing of Predators.

Yes, you read that correctly. That's my kind of film. It was good, too--just what I was looking for.

I got lucky with the audience, too--a few others were there but apparently they were there to watch the film and not chat on their cell phones or carry on loud conversations with their friends and whatnot. So I got to actually hear the thing.

Now, to work. I've got the cast of characters for my next spec script. Mostly, anyway. Fortunately, except for a handful of minor characters who might crop up, this will be everybody. Good for me, because I tend to get people mixed up. Maybe I can keep this crew straight.

So, next I'm going to plot it all out. This much I learned from my technical writing, at work--start big, then get into some details, then go into further details. I won't have each individual scene plotted out but I'll have enough to know how to get where I want to go.

It's gonna be great! I know it! Maybe I can get this thing made and you'll see.

Of course, I gotta write it, first. And convince somebody to shoot it. Wish me luck.

Eureka!

Told ya so! Told ya so! And btw, I told ya so!

So, I was indulging myself with a soak in a tub of really hot water, relaxing, mind just drifting, when it came to me. Just like what happened to Archimedes, just in South Georgia English instead of ancient Greek.

The ending. See my previous blog, in case you don't know what I'm talking about.

I mentioned that I knew I could do this. My Muse, bless her eternal benevolence and devotion to her humble servant, came through for me again.

Now, to make some notes, knock things together, plot everything out, work out a few remaining details . . . all this is trivial stuff, though, now that the really tough part is done.

Oh, and I TOLD YOU SO! Heh . . .

Someone There

I know you don't remember but I called the other day
I need two tickets to the moon and you said "no way"
You said you can't do that, there is no way
well, I need them and I need them today

I was talking to my old buddy Roy
he said called you late last week
He asked for some tickets and you sold him a pair
he said he spoke to Someone There

You see there's this girl and I really want to nail her
New Year's on the moon and champagne and all that
She's really hot and sweet and I think this is the ticket
but I need you to hook me up

Someone There is wise and tall
Someone There can do it all
Someone There can take my call
and make miracles occur

I know you don't know me but my name is Ray
I remember your voice I called the other day
I need a million dollars and I need it today
You said there's just no way

I was talking to my old buddy Tom
he said he called you late last week
He asked for some cash and you were more than fair
he said he spoke to Someone There

You see I need to buy a jet to solve my problems
I want to fly around the world and live my dream
No I can't pay you back, are you out of your mind?
Hook me up or let me talk to your boss.

Someone There is big and strong.
Someone There can do no wrong.
Someone There works all night long
to be sure those miracles occur.

words and music by J Franklin Evans

Friday night randomosity

I love Friday nights.

Don't ask me why. It's not like I go anywhere. I do the same thing I do most nights--watch TV, listen to some music, maybe write or record something.

Maybe it's because I don't have to work Saturdays or something, but I always look forward to Friday nights. All week long I look forward to it, even though I rarely have anything specific planned.

SyFy runs some shows I kinda like on Friday nights, but that's not it, either, I don't think.

I think over the years I've had a lot of fun, or at least really pleasant, Friday nights. And I don't mind my own company--I have a good time right by my lonesome. Plus I can sleep in the next day--until my dog wakes me, that is. He usually lets me get an extra hour or so, which for me is plenty.

I feel like I'm really close to an ending for this screenplay I've been thinking about for a while now. It's gonna be a little tricky--the plot is a bit complicated. It'll be worth it, though.

It's a horror movie. What subgenre of horror I won't reveal, except to say that most supernatural horror films don't appeal to me. I want to do something that is truly scary--not gross, or a morality play, or anything like that. I want to do an old-fashioned, pulse-pounding, adrenaline-pumping horror film, where you are absolutely terrified while you watch it.

Those films don't get made any more. Nowadays it's possible for even a fairly small budget film to have a CGI monster, and as a result it's on-screen a lot. That's a problem, actually. Think about Jaws. Alien. The Fog. The Thing. Every monster movie you've ever seen that really worked. How many times did the creature appear, in full, where you could see the whole thing? Not more than once or twice. (Jaws is even more amazing in that regard--I mean, everybody knows what a shark looks like. Right?) The rest was left of to the imagination, which is much more effective than any CGI.

I want to return to that, to a creature that you don't really see until the end. Trust me--what I've envisioned will scare the piss out of you when you actually see it. It's scares *me* and I made the damned thing up.

So, I'll be toiling away on that, as soon as I can come up with the very last little piece I need to complete it. I feel like I'm really close.

In the mean time I'm going to enjoy my weekend, and I hope you are enjoying yours!

Beginnings and endings

I once heard that, when writing a story, it was best to start with an ending. At the time I thought that was stupid.

Of course I was very young at the time. Now I realize the wisdom of those words.

I've got tons of beginnings. I've got the first few pages, or the first few minutes, of a dozen novels or films that would grab your attention and hold it. Unfortunately that's *all* I have.

I've got an idea for a film that will, if done right, be terrifying as well as a gripping story that'll twist and turn and twist, challenging you while you watch it, letting you think you've got it figured out then letting you know that you're wrong . . . or are you?

I've got all that. I've got damned near all the plot. I've got many of the characters.

One little thing I don't have yet, and that's the frakkin' ending. I know where I'm gonna wind up but I don't know what happens then.

I need a target to shoot for. When I don't have one you can tell while you read my work--you can see me fumbling around, vamping, hoping something will occur to me. Sometimes that actually works--I've come up with a couple of pretty decent endings just like that, out of desperation. But more often than not it doesn't work. Especially as I get older.

Anyways, I'm gonna spend the next few nights sleepless, thinking about this, trying to make these pieces come together to form a picture that makes sense. Or maybe create a new piece to fill in a gap. Will I suceed?

Of course I will. Because I've got a ridiculous amount of self-confidence when it comes to this sort of thing--creating stuff like this. I don't have a lot of confidence in my judgement of my own work, really, but I do know that I can do this.

In a way, that's what makes this whole thing so much fun! I keep telling myself. . .

Roen: Pronounced Rowan - it's over . . .

I just posted the last two chapters of my novel online--check the above links if you want to look at it. It's in Notes on my Facebook page, and in the blogs of the other two. I'd be interested to hear what you think.

That will be my last work of prose fiction, I believe. I thought I'd given up on it before--now I truly have. I'm not disappointed in the novel in itself, really, but in my inability to get an editor at a publishing company anywhere to even look at it. Over the past few years it has gone from extremely difficult to impossible for an unpublished writer to get his or her work even considered.

Maybe my novel isn't publishable. Or maybe it's one of the greatest things ever written. More reasonably it's somewhere in between--I basically wrote it as a way for a reader to kill some time on the train or at the beach or whatever. But it doesn't matter, because nobody will ever read it.

So, this is *your* chance. Doesn't get more democratic than this. Look it over. Let me know what you think.

And the publishing industry can just go to hell.

A blog about blogging

I'm thinking about creating another blog.

I realize that there is no central authority who defines these things, so I'm asking--if the blog is written by someone who doesn't exist, about people and places that don't exist, and things that never happened, is it still a blog?

Personally I believe it is--there won't be an defined plot or anything to make it a story, really, so it's not like me posting stories or poems or serializing my novel or anything. And of course there will be those who don't get it--they'll either believe it's real or think I'm trying to fool people into thinking it's real.

Anyway, what do you think? Would it still be appropriate to call something like this a blog?

The Washing Machine Song

The Washing Machine Song

You make me feel like a washing machine
spin around spin around, get the clothes clean
your whites turn out whiter, your colors all green
you make me feel like a washing machine

You make me feel like a favorite toy
fun for every girl and fun for every boy
everywhere I go I spread comfort and joy
you make me feel like a favorite toy

You make me feel like I’m made of wax
a wick running through me, subject to a tax
soften me up and leave your tracks
you make me feel like I'm made of wax

You make me feel like an old pair of jeans
worn at the knees and bursting at the seams
your butt looks good, no need for any scenes
if I were your old pair of jeans

You make me feel like a worn out shoe
hole in the toe, don't know what to do
comfortable and familiar, an old friend to you
If I were your worn out shoe

You make me feel like an old lawn mower
Just like a car only much much slower
I eat weeds and I'm a grass thrower
you make me feel like an old lawn mower

You make me feel like a cigarette
tasty and satisfying and I'll kill you yet
Slowly and softly, as sneaky as you can get
You make me feel like a cigarette

You make me feel like a washing machine
spin around spin around, get the clothes clean
your whites turn out whiter, your colors all green
you make me feel like a washing machine

words and music by J Franklin Evans

Frustration

As a musician and writer, I often find myself wallowing in self-doubt.

Hell, so does everyone else. I wonder how other people deal with it?

I am a terrible judge of my own work. Something I sort of throw together will turn out to be one of my most popular works, while something I spend a couple of weeks on, sweated over, remixed, re-recorded, etc., will just sort of sit there.

Take my song "Necrotopia." I love it. I was proud of the lyrics, and I think I did a pretty good job with recording it. It sounds pretty much exactly like it did when I heard it in my head. Actually, in some ways it sounds better--a couple of happy accidents happened that sort of enhances the auditory experience of that song. I listen to it all the time, and still dig it.

But apparently I'm the only one.

I did another song, "Sometimes, Cthulhu Says No." It's an instrumental I sort of threw together--I'd just bought a new guitar and wanted to play around with it. It's sort of a goofy little dinky thing but with a pretty decent chord progression that I'm going to use again. And a fairly robust bass-line.

But still, I put that thing together in one day. Just a few hours. I made it up on the spot. People love that song.

Don't get me wrong, I don't *dislike* it. I just think I've done other songs that are better.

It's frustrating. I suppose I should be glad that there are one or two songs out there that seem to resonate with people. And I am.

But check out "Beast of Love," or "After the Blood," or the aforementioned "Necrotopia," please. I swear, those are decent songs, too, dammit! Give 'em a chance!

Scathed uploaded

I just uploaded "Scathed" with the vocal--click one of the links above and give it a listen. Let me know what you think!