Ok, explain this to me

So, I'm driving on I-16 yesterday, heading back to Savannah. It's early and there's not much traffic. I set my cruise control to right around 70 mph.

I gradually creep up behind this guy driving a Horizon who is apparently driving 69 1/2 mph. When I'm close enough I shift over to the left lane to pass. As I start to go around the other car--still without touching my gas pedal because the cruise control is on--dumbass speeds up.

So, I slow down, shift back into the right lane. What does dumbass do? Right. He slows down again. So, I get back over to pass and he does the same thing.

I up my speed to 75. Dumbass likewise speeds up but driving that fast scares him--he just can't bring himself to go any faster than that, and he loses his nerve after a quarter mile or so and I go around him, finally.

I leave the cruise control at 75 and continue crusing along, and what happens next but dumbass blows past me, changes lanes until he's in front of me again, and then slows down until he's back inside his comfort zone. We begin this stupid game again.

Now, I don't give two sh!ts if I get passed. I usually don't even notice. Just don't pass me, get in front of me, and slow the f#ck down.

This seems to happen to me a lot. Cars will be creeping along, oblivious to other cars blowing right by them. Until it's me--then they seem to feel like I'm posing a threat to their manhood and if I successfully pass them, their penis will withdraw into their bodies and they'll be forced to wear skirts and have sex with men for the rest of their lives--though this isn't always men. Once it was a little old lady.

Are you one of those people? If so, could you explain to me what the hell you're doing? I'd love to know.

Here's what's next!

Next project on my agenda is this TV show--an idea that sort of popped, full-blown, into my head about a week or so. I've got some minor details to work out but I think it's a great idea. In a little while I'm going to discuss it with a friend who knows a lot more about the industry than me and we'll see where we go from there. I may actually write a story or two set in the millieu first, just to kind of calibrate.

Musically I think I'm going to bring the Mythophobia song-cycle to a close. Those were all songs inspired in one way or another by the spec script I was working on. Since, at least for now, I'm done with that I think I'm done with the songs, too.

Next is another song-cycle I'm calling Ashes and Bone. No, these won't all be inspired by the TV series idea--that's not what I'm going to call it, for one--though I will include a tune that would serve as a theme-song of the new series. If it in fact becomes a new series. It'll still be a good song, in any case.

Medically, it's official. I'm old. Got to have some minor surgery, but not until my blood sugar gets under control. I'm supposed to have a full physical next week---who knows what undiscovered horrors lurk in my rapidly aging body? At least the prostate indignity is behind me for a year--already got that out of the way. And the problem I had is officially not cancer. There was only something like a 10% chance that it would be anyway, but it's good to be sure.

What am I listening to? Tristania's new CD, Rubicon. You really need to check it out. They are wonderful and thought provoking--lots of fodder there for a receptive imagination, looking for inspiration.

Wow. An exhausting but fun dream

So, in this dream there were only around 5,000 or so people left on earth. Don't ask me what happened to everyone else--all I knew is they were all dead. And it had happened a long time ago.

In my dream we were doing okay. We'd established a sane, orderly society. Crime was non-existant. We were rebuilding, taking pieces of the way we were that worked, discarding those that were harmful. It was actually not a bad way to live.

Until the aliens came. There were only two of them, but they were way more technologically advanced, and they were hostile. They'd come to wipe us out.

Don't ask me why. Also, don't ask why they didn't just wipe us out from space. They landed a few miles from our settlement and started preparing to march in, guns blazing.

Fortunately we had an ally--another alien, from a different species. Not as advanced but still more advanced than us. He shared some really nifty weapondry with us. Unfortunately he didn't have all that much--he only had three exoskeletons. For some weird reason I was one of the people selected to wear one of those things into the upcoming battle.

And when it started it was spectatular. Explosions, automatic weapons fire, all sorts of thing. We managed to kill one of the invaders soon but the other one was a lot tougher and smarter. To kill that one we lured it into a trap.

About three hundred people volunteered for a suicide mission. We tricked it into entering a building that was booby-trapped with an extremely powerful bomb by having those people in it. We figured it would never guess it was a trap because no way that many people would do something like that--especially since there were so few of us left in the first place. It thought it had found a refuge loaded with sitting ducks. Instead it found out that the afterlife is really like.

I woke up exhausted. But damn! That one was fun! If a little depressing.

It also contained the seeds of an idea for a TV series. I've been chewing on that for a few days now and the more I think about it the more I dig it.

So, what about you? Any interesting dreams?

Finally--some good news for a change!

It's been a hard week for yours truly up until now. A friend--a dear, beloved friend--is going through an incredibly hard time and there's not much I can do to help her. So, I worry and feel helpless and wish I could afford a plane ticket or at least had one of those ring transports like on Stargate SG-1.

But, at least for now, that's offset by the news I had waiting for me in my inbox today. Remember me saying I was entering my story into a contest and the editor had really nice things to say about it? Well, that story was selected to appear in an anthology. So, finally, at long last, I'm going to be a published author!

Here is the contest. My story is called "Cabin Fever." It's a horror story. Or is it? You'll have to read it yourself to find out. I will, of course, give details as to how you can get it, when they become available.

Yes, my prize will be simply a free copy of the book, and a discount for additional copies. But it's a book that will have my story in it. Mine. Along with stories from others, too, but mine will be in there!. The byline will say, "J Franklin Evans." There are no words for how this feels. Plus, if I do ever submit anything else for publication, it'll help to get my stuff read. Hopefully.

I'm so happy right now it scares me.

OK, now what?

So, I've done the rewrites on my spec script and sent it off to a friend who knows a lot more about screenwriting than me. She'll look it over and give me her feedback when she gets a chance--she's rather busy at the moment.

At this point I need input on it. I've read and reread it until I'm not actually seeing anything when I read it, except what I expect to see. I need somebody else to look it over with some detachment.

So, until I get her feedback, what do I do? I can't really make up my mind. I really need to be working on something or I'll go out of my mind.

I think my Mythophobia song cycle needs one or two more songs, and there's another song cycle I want to start after that--more on that later. Maybe I'll work on that now. Also have an idea for a story or short film--maybe that's next. All that still needs some development, though.

Now that I've actually written it down I think I'll work on the music for a while, get a few new tunes out. I've done a couple of tunes I'm extremely happy with lately--"Inside" and "Take My Breath"--and those took a lot out of me. I'm not kidding--I was exhausted after those. "Inside" is my "biggest" tune since "Necrotopia"--I don't think I've ever had that many tracks before. "Take My Breath" is just an intensely personal song for me, and that made recording it draining. But, as I said, I'm happy with both songs, and maybe now that it's been a little while I have built up the reserves necessary for me to do some more music. Click one of the links above if you want to hear those tunes, along with several others.

So, stay tuned! Let's see where I go next.

Memories and music

Does anyone else usually associate memories with whatever music was playing at the time?

Like, every time I hear Tool's "Sober", I get reminded of this girl I used to know. Not because of what the song was about but because she was a dancer and that was the song she was dancing to when I met her for the first time. We became close friends for a while after that. Life has separated us but I still miss her. She was one-of-a-kind, in a good way. Needless to say, this dark, moody classic by Tool brings a smile to my face, mystifying my friends who don't know about it. Cortney, if you're out there--drop me a line, okay?

Abba's "Dancing Queen." My best friend in the whole world loves this song and every time I hear it I get reminded very strongly of her--it's like the song is about her. I don't personally care for it, myself --only Abba tune I really dig is "Fernando", to be honest--but I like that song because it is such a powerful reminder to me of her. She lives in another universe these days but we keep in touch, and I usually shoot her an email or something when I hear that song.

Something really unpleasant and embarrassing happened to me

years ago while I was listening to Elton John's "Saturday Night's All Right (for Fighting)." I loved that song until then. Now, every time I hear it I think of cops. It's been many, many years but I still think of cops. It turned out not to be a big deal--a traffic ticket, really--but still, it was not a good thing.

So, what about you? What particularly powerful songs bring back powerful memories--pleasant or unpleasant?

Mid-week randomicity

It sucks to get old.

The down side--I have more doctor's appointments than usual. I need help keeping up with them. And they are for things that might--might--turn out to be serious. Also, I can't eat junk food like I used to without having to pay the price for it later. And really difficult to concentrate for more than a couple minutes at a time, when before I could focus on something for hours.

There are up sides, though--yeah, I'm fat, but I don't give a sh!t. I've never been much to look at anyways and in my old age I've finally accepted the fact that I'm ugly. Hell, I embrace my ugliness. It's a trademark. Oddly enough people seem to like me better now that I've stopped worrying about it.

Also, getting older means things that were a huge deal before are not such a big deal now. Like sex. It's been a while for me . . . a long while, we're getting near the decade mark at this writing . . . and it's simply not that big of a deal for me. I was having the occassional hookup before, which were fun for a little while, but they were with women who I could never see myself having anything long-term with. It would be nice to get laid every now and then, just to see if I still remember where everything is, but it would be even nicer if it were with someone who I'd want to stick around for a while. Just for a change. If I can't have that I think, at least for now, I'd rather just have nothing. I may feel differently if my dry spell continues, and it probably will, since I'm not actually out looking around anymore.

Speaking of love, what do you think of this article? It's from CNN.com and it's about how we sabatoge ourselves by dissing the people in our life when they attempt to demonstrate their love for us. I thought it was pretty much dead on--I saw myself in it, along with other people I know. Give it read, post your thoughts.

I'm still working on rewrites of my spec script. I'm happy with most of it, but there are a couple of little plot points that are really stupid. And some other things I think need to be adjusted. I'm going to wait until this weekend so I can rewrite the whole thing in one sitting--it'll give me a better idea as to how the whole thing flows that way. Instead of doing a few pages every day.


Right now I'm listening to Epica's Classical Conspiracy--a live album recorded with a full ochestra and chorus. Like their music was meant to be heard. You'll like it. Check it out!

Where were you?

I was standing in the lobby of the famous Lucas Theater in downtown Savannah. Tickets to Penn and Teller were to become available that day and I was buying three--one for me, one for my best friend, and one for her (then) boyfriend. The show was in January so this was sort of an xmas present to myself and to them. (The show, btw, was wonderful. We had a blast. See those guys if you get a chance.)

Everyone around me was acting funny. I was on vacation from work that week and I'd overslept and hadn't even turned on the TV that morning. I had no clue.

That is, until I turned around to see a TV set up in the lobby--I saw what looked like a passenger plane crash into one of the Twin Towers. It just flat-out didn't register with me when I saw it. My mind refused to accept it.

I finished my business and went home and finally turned on the TV to get the news. Then I got onto Internet and logged onto a forum I visited frequently and went into the chat room--a lot of my online friends were there. Most of them were at work and didn't have access to a television, so I was keeping them posted when something new came up.

At one point someone asked, "What about the hurricane?" I thought, "What hurricane?" Then I remembered there was one out in the Atlantic that had a chance to hit Savannah and I had been keeping a close eye on it up until then. I'd completely forgotten it. Fortunately when I checked my little spot was out of the possible path.

But it's a day that is impossible to forget--where I was, what I was doing, when I first found out about it.

How about you? Where were you when you heard? What were you doing?

Suffering

I was reading the book you see to your left--transcript of an interview by Bill Moyers of Joseph Campbell--and, as usual when I read Campbell, got my mind blown.

If you aren't familiar with Campbell, he was one of the world's foremost experts in mythology--its meaning, the common threads woven through myths from around the world and throughout time, and how they are still relevant in our daily lives.

Campbell always seems to provide food for thought. Many times when reading one of his books I'll encounter a paragraph or even just a sentence or two that will strike me as very profound, and lead to further thought outside of the context provided in the book itself. Many times he manages to add a missing piece to something I was working on.

Such was the case today, when I ran across the section where Moyers and Campbell talked about the significance of Christ's suffering on the cross in Christian mythology. Basically--and I'm terrible at explaining abstract concepts, I much prefer to demonstrate them in the context of a story or something--he said that the humanity in Christ and the deity became merged because of his suffering. That the yearning of god for man and man for god were unified in his agony.

For some reason I found that to be very profound, and I started thinking about love and suffering. It seems to me that love is not possible without pain, and the more deeply one loves, the more pain one feels. Also, the more pain one is willing to feel.

For example--I have a dear, dear friend who suffers from migraines, and another medical condition that causes her a great deal of pain. I love her, deeply and completely, and if I could I would take her pain away, even if it meant I had to experience it myself. I would not only do it, I would do it gladly--even as I felt the pain I would know it was pain that she was not feeling and my joy at giving her relief would offset any pain I felt. It's quite different from me experiencing my own pain--for example, the pain of this twisted ankle I've had for a week or so. That pain is personal and only involves me and I'd gladly get rid of it if I could--as long as getting rid of it didn't cause someone else to have to experience it. (Ankle's a lot better, btw, thanx for asking.)

This is, of course, really only part of it. Another part is the desire to consume and be consumed by the object of one's love. For example--imagine, if you worship some deity, that this deity is a sun, and its love for you is its heat. It's overpowering, inconceivable. It'll consume you. You'll experience intense agony while this happens. But it's an agony you crave, because while it consumes you, you are becoming one with it, experiencing its total and overwhelming love for you. Like a drop of water in an ocean--it merges and becomes mingled with the rest of the water until it is indistinguishible from all the other drops of water.

This is the missing piece for a story idea I've been struggling with for a while now. It fit into the hole in the puzzle with an almost audible click!

I do hope that makes some kind of sense---and if you were wondering, my atheism is still intact. It's just a fascinating and, I think, illuminating idea, especially when applied outside of the context of religion.

Anyway, if you haven't read Campbell I recommend you do so. He'll blow your mind, too.

"Take My Breath" now available

I just uploaded a new song, "Take My Breath," to the above links. If you go to my Facebook or iLike page you can download the free MP3! That's about as good as it can get! Anyway, click on over, check it out.

Okay, girls, here's why he didn't talk to you . . . maybe . . .

So, you're out with your friends and you see a hot guy. Your eyes meet. There's a connection. You keep glancing over at each other. Maybe he even comes by and chats you and your friends up.

Then he leaves. Didn't ask for your number or anything. Walks out of your life forever. Maybe.

Girls, you gotta give us a chance. If you like the guy and he seems to like you, he's not gonna make his move with your friends around. He doesn't want to get shot down with witnesses, and no matter how obvious the heat is, he's not going to be confident enough to take that chance--unless he's completely drunk or an obnoxious jerk, in which case if you say no he'll immediately hit on your friends. There's a reason we're a little shy when it comes to this--us guys have all ran into women who seem to spend their lives sending mixed signals, and been sent spiraling into the ocean, trailing flames and smoke. So, no, we don't want your friends to overhear when we ask for your number or otherwise make a move. In case you are one of those girls. Give a guy a break--he just met you, okay? How's he to know?

Of course I'm an expert at getting shot down, so I know what I'm talking about. I've hit the silk more times than I can count. In fact, I've been shot down so many times that when I hear 'yes' it takes me a little time to realize it--mentally I'm hearing 'no' again. So, I know all about getting tagged in the dating game.

So, separate yourself from your friends for a few minutes. Go to the bar to get drinks for your friends. Take your time, even a little longer than necessary. Give him a chance to approach--we're gonna want to appear to be cool, so he won't come running over. He'll kinda saunter over, like he was heading this way anyway and it's a happy coincidence that you just happen to be there. He can help you take the drinks back to your table, too. He'll be glad to help.

Of course, this is just an example. I'm sure you can come up with much more creative ways to do this. You don't have to wander around a dark alley alone or anything--you can even stay where your friends can see. Just as long as they are out of earshot. The basic point is give the dude a shot. If he blows it, he blows it, but at least he got a chance--which, trust me, is good karma for you, even if you decide to pass.

Then you can tell your friends all about it.

It's what's for dinner!

Got a boneless chicken breast thawing right now. Here's what I'm going to do with it.

Make a marinade:

2 cups buttermilk
1 clove garlic-minced
a big pinch of kosher salt
a teaspoon of freshly ground black pepper
a teaspoon of ground red pepper
2 teaspoons or more of basil

Mix the marinade. Cut the chicken breast into strips and put it in the marinade for around a half-hour or so. Prepare the breading:

A cup of flour
a quarter cup of corn meal
a teaspoon of salt
a teaspoon of black pepper

You can put the above ingrediants in a paper lunch sack, blow some air into it, and give it a vigorous shake to mix it all. Then pour that into a pan. Add the strips and roll those in the mixture. Deep fry the strips for nine minutes or until done. Serve with ranch or honey mustard dressing for dipping. Sprinkle malt vinegar over the strips.

This also works to make very tasty onion rings, fried squash, fried okra, even brocolli if you are so inclined. Just about any vegetable that can be fried is quite good this way. Adjust cooking times accordingly. I like to make onion rings with the chicken, then fry up some french fries to go with it. With a nice liberal sprinkling of malt vinegar over everything. Yum!

I adapted this from my copy of The Joy of Cooking. If you cook, don't cook without it. Lots of essential info contained within!

Was it good for you?

I reached a sort of milestone just now--finished the first draft of my spec script, Mythophobia.

I've mentioned how concerned I was about the ending, about how I was afraid I wouldn't be able to pull it off. Re-reading what I've done I think I managed it. It certainly affected me, and I'm not a sucker for my own stuff in that regard. Normally I underestimate the impact of what I've written, so if this hits me this hard then it might be lethal . . . heh.

Actually I doubt it, though my hope is, if this thing ever gets produced, you'll have some tears in your eyes at the end. And your throat will be raw from screaming, too. It is, after all, a horror movie . . .

What I've learned is a good sign, as I've mentioned before, is my complete immersion in it--it took a couple hours for me to write what I did today, which was the finale and the coda, and I felt like it was only a few minutes. Plus, I worked up a good sweat, too. Another good sign. It's hard work, making up stuff like this!

Anyways, I hope I'm not fooling myself with how good it is. It does need a rewrite--there's some stuff I need to tweak, some things that need to be edited, and I want to add a couple short scenes, stuff like that. Plus I need to work on the pacing--my most common complaint with a lot of films is herky-jerky pacing. It should flow, like a symphony--some faster tempo sections, some slower, some moderate . . . a good mix, working towards an overpowering finale. And a sweet, satisfying coda, to finish it off. Let's hope the music I'm making with this thing is something people will want to hear!

Now I need to take a day or so off from it. Gonna watch a movie or three, listen for a few dozen tunes, maybe record something new. I need to get some distance from it so I can be a little detached and approach it with a fresher perspective.



Speaking of music, I found a bit of inspiration in Sirenia's 13th Floor CD. Lots of mythical imagery and interesting dreamscapes to be found in this one. Very helpful soundtrack to assist with creative thought. Check it out!

O, for a Muse of Fire . . .

I got one of those. A Muse of Fire, that is. I'm understanding what Shakespeare was talking about at the beginning of Henry V.

I'm in the final act of this spec script I've been working on, Mythophobia. I've been worried about it for a while now--I felt like it might be a little too big for me. It could be one of those things that elevates this work to a special place, that makes it different from other films.

Or it could be a pretencious piece of crap.

So, with some anxiety I began working on it yesterday. Worked on it some more just now. So far, I'm pleased.

Sure, it's just a first draft, and it'll need some refining. To me, anyway, that's the easy part. The hard part is getting it down in the first place. Once it's out there it's just a matter of massaging it, snipping parts, moving stuff around, adjusting the flow, and all that.

A good sign--I have a huge playlist in ITunes I use, carefully selected music that provides my imagination with a proper context, a soundtrack, something to assist it in creating this stuff. When I checked I was about twenty songs into it before I quit for now. About an hour and a half. I had no clue I was at it for that long. This, in my experience with how I work, is a Very Good Sign.

I think one more session like that and I'll be through most of it--there will just be the coda, which won't be all that much, really. Maybe by tomorrow afternoon I'll be done with this part, and I'll be able to get out my blue pencil and start hacking away at it. Heh.

There is no feeling like this--putting something together, be it a story, a screenplay, a song, whatever. There is nothing like putting together a project and knowing that, even if it never gets published, produced, or whatever, that it is something special, something rare and worthwhile. That you brought something beautiful, truthful, rare and wondrous into the world.

Nothing like it. Nothing.

I like beer. And etc.

Right now, as I type this, I'm sipping my very first glass ever of a Samuel Adams ale--the creamy stout. And I'm enjoying it--as advertised, it's a little creamy, full-bodied, quite tasty. I dig it.

I like beer. I don't drink it very often, but on hot days when I have to be outside, or if I've been extremely busy and a bit stressed, a nice cold glass of something foamy is very refreshing. Just one, maybe two. Plus it gives the added benefit of helping me to relax a little. It also helps to get the creative juices to flowing, to lower inhibitions just a tad, and let those ideas sort of come out past my sometimes over-zealous editor. More than two, though, and I start getting drunk, and that never leads to anything useful.

Haven't done any writing yet. I've been running errands. There were some things I just desperately needed to do, stuff I needed to get, and then when I got home I had an invite to a lunch at work. How could I say no? So I went back to the office on my day off to share a sub sandwich with my co-workers.

Now I'm going to chill for a little while before diving back into the world of Mythophobia. I'm into the final act now, and this is when the true nightmare begins. My favorite part. If done right this could move this baby from the realm of the standard slasher flick into something special.

As such I want to be at a point where I can just sit and write and write and write until I'm done. Interruptions should be avoided at this point. Wish me luck.

Have I mentioned how much I dig Tristania? If you indulge in creative pursuits their music is conducive to the creative process. Really. Give them a shot. You won't regret it.