Saturday morning randomocity and new song available!

I was going to wait until I had a few more songs done in this song cycle, but to hell with it. I've uploaded "Far From The Sun" to my Myspace and Reverbnation pages. Check it out--I think it's a pretty nifty little instrumental. You can hear it here: http://www.reverbnation.com/play_now/song_8424522. You can download it, too, if you click "Become A Fan." You can check out the other stuff that's there, too, if you are so inclined. I'd be grateful.

You know, there was a time when I felt like if one were good all one had to do is make stuff available and eventually people would find it. I find now that this isn't the case. It should be, but it ain't. It's all about self-promotion, now. People only buy music from certain artists because they see the name over and over and over again, so they feel comfortable with it. Even if the music is just standard, by-the-numbers, boring pop. As a consequence a lot of deserving, talented artists labor in obscurity because they lack the resources to get their names out there, where people can see them.

It holds true for fiction, too. I got disgusted with the state of fiction a long time ago--I kept reading all these books by these "geniuses" that I was assured would just blow me away. Almost without exception I was not blown, though my money and my time was. Poorly written, standard plots, lousy characterization, and written at a third-grade reading level, for the most part. This is genius?

Sorry. I'm a bit fed up with the world this morning. I'm sure I'll regain my sunny, outgoing disposition after a nap.

To help me regain my temper, click over and listen to the tune. The more plays the better. I do appreciate every play I get--I know better than a lot of people how rare and wonderous it is to have someone give you their attention for a few minutes.

Give it a listen, let me know what you think!

Hard Rain

A heart full of sorrow, and as cold as ice


means I never worry, I never think twice

I've always been slow, been late to the game

But I'm gonna win it just the same



Lots of people told me not to even try

That I dream too big, that I fly too high

Someone has to win, someone has to succeed

Ain't no reason it can't be me



Cause I've been there though years of pain

I've walked home many times, though a hard, hard rain



I've been there, with a whole world to gain

I've walked home many nights, though a hard, hard rain



words and music by J Franklin Evans

Far From The Sun

Astronomers detected it entering our solar system.

It wasn't a hunk of rock. It wasn't a burned out star. It was huge, about the same size as the Moon, but far less massive.

And it employed navigational manuevers to enter into an orbit, far out, near the edge, past the orbit of Neptune. This indicated some form of intelligence. There it stayed, close enough to detect, too far away for anyone on Earth to get a good look at it.

It remained there for several months. We sent radio signals, x-rays, everything we could think of, and got no reaction from it. All we knew is it was artificial.

The nations of the world finally put their resources together, pooled their manpower, and built a ship. Not a simple robotic probe--that would have been too limiting and too likely to malfunction. This was a ship with a crew, carefully selected, highly if hastily trained, put aboard a ship built for another purpose. Sent on the way to rendevous with this artifact.

The day for the launch finally came. It happened, the ship sent on its way.

It took a very long time--years--for the ship to draw near the object. As it did something changed. The artifact began to expand, growing to almost seven times its former size. Was it reacting to the proximity of the ship? Was the crew in danger?

Finally the day came and they drew near enough to actually see the thing, and the entire world gasped.

It was a flower. Gigantic. Beautiful. Alien. Basking in the energy radiating from our sun.

As the ship drew near the alien bloom closed and sped away, on to its next destination. Gone. But it did leave several seeds behind, floating out there, just past the orbit of Neptune. One day they, too, will sprout. The world awaits.

And now, for my next trick . . .

My friend has read over my script for Seer and said she has some notes--I'm sure I'm going to be doing some serious rewriting on that project as soon as she has a chance to get put everything in an email. That's probably gonna be a long email. Heh.

But in the mean time I'm actually feeling like working on another musical project, now that Cold Iron is out of my system. The next song cycle won't be quite as personal as that one, and it'll be instrumental-heavy, too. And it'll only be six or seven songs, probably. It may be a while before I get it all tracked and uploaded, and I still have some lyrics to write, planning to do, etc. In other words it may be a while before anything new appears. Feel free to visit http://www.reverbnation.com/jfranklinevans to hear the stuff that's there now.

I'm calling the new one Far From The Sun. Here's the potential track list--subject to serious channging before it becomes finalized.

Artifact 420
This Is Who We Are
From Different Tribes
Far From The Sun
Lilly
Marked
The Night, Sideways

On developing character

I've been thinking about character development a lot lately

The reason is, that's what causes a lot of my stuff to come of the rails as I'm writing it. I put in a scene strictly to develop a character.

That causes everything to come to a screeching halt, yet writers seem to be compelled to do this--insert a scene simply to show how clever we are when we create our characters. It doesn't advance anything, doesn't illuminate anything other than our own genius. Yes, it's an exercise in egomania. I am as guilty as anybody. However, I am fairly good at spotting this in my own stuff and cut it when I run across it.

Like this--I had this long, complicated thing in Seer, basically going around my elbow to get to my ass, simply to show that one of my characters is the kind of guy everyone loves, respects, and admires. Thankfully, when I re-read it I realized that and removed it, and then worked in some other stuff that still showed that but also was part of the story. Much better now. Much more subtle, and effective.

I learned this from the master, Shakespeare. Re-read Act I, Scene I of MacBeth. The king's army had just won a bitter and hardfought victory and the characters on-stage are discussing MacBeth's critical role in it. They admire his courage, his skill in battle, his faithfulness to his king . . . ironic, considering what happens later, but still, with a few lines one begins to understand the character, and this is critical for how he accomplishes his later treachery.

This scene literally sets the stage, advances the plot, and develops the character. Clever, economical, effective. Again, the master.

I'm not saying one should never do something like this. There are times when it's acceptable, even required. If it's a long running TV series, for example, with beloved characters, a little chit chat between characters that doesn't advance anything is fine, sometimes adding to the flavor of the show. The greatest TV show in history, Homicide: Life on the Street, was great at this. The writers knew just when this sort of thing is called for and they were excellent at writing little scenes between characters that had little to do with what was doing on but added to the richness of the show without causing the plot to screech to an awkward, tedious stop. The operative word is little. They didn't get carried away.

So, if you're a writer and you have the sense that your work has somehow come off the rails, re-read what you're working on and see if there's anything like that in there. Five will get you ten that there is. Cut that out and redo it.

While you're at it, re-read Shakespeare. Let him teach you. As I said, the master.

This is why writers are crazy

So, I'm in a meeting at work. It was about something that, in all probablility, won't involve me, so I sort of tuned out after a few minutes.

Which left my subconcious time to come up with some ideas for my next project, an entirely premature sequel to Seer.

I already had a basic idea for it, and I sort of figured out something one of my characters would have figured out. That character will perform an act of ultimate sacrifice for the one he loves, I've decided. He has a good reason for it, and he feels like it'll help a terrible situation. Plus, he's the type of guy who would do that sort of thing, so this almost has to happen for it to be true-to-character.

Unfortunately this affected me profoundly, and I nearly burst into tears during this boring business meeting. Now that would have taken some explaining. And probably have resulted in a referral to the company shrink. Heh.

Yeah, I'm all sad about something a person who doesn't actually exist does for another person who doesn't actually exist. And I haven't even started writing it yet--and may not, depending on the feedback I get about the first one.

Damn. Really. I feel, sometimes, when I'm working on this stuff, that I'm losing my frakkin' mind. Which is a Good Thing, I reckon.

My life, in a nutshell

Yesterday I left the house without my nasal spray.

Now, if you have allergies like I do you're feeling sorry for me right now. If you don't, suffice to say that, this time of year when the oaks are sending out their pollen in the hope of creating the next generation of oaks, my sinuses tend to slam shut without something to induce them to not do so.

So, I decided to go to the drug store to get more during my lunch break. Had to. Couldn't breathe through my nose by then. I wasn't planning to go to the drug store, because it was pouring down rain and the traffic in this city especially sucks when it's raining. But I had no choice.

I slog out to my truck, then splash over to the drugstore to get my drug of choice. Stand in line behind two gentlemen. That's when what always happens to me, especially when I'm in a hurry, happens.

The guy at the front of the line had two cans of nuts and a can of Red Bull. Should only take a couple minutes at most, right? Wrong. I don't know what the dude was doing but it took twenty frakkin' minutes. Whatever he was doing required frequent signatures, phone calls, paging management, more phone calls, a couple of blood sacrifices, money changing hands, more money changing hands, more phone calls, another ritual, Congressional approval, more signatures, more money changing hands, then money changing hands again, then more phone calls, then reading of chicken entrails, consultation with a shaman, use of a Ouija board, a blessing by the Pope, divination, use of a dowsing rod, a physical exam, a ruling from the Supreme Court, and, finally, a note from the guy's doctor. Of course the drug store only had one asile open so I had to stand behind this putz, feeling my life aging away, while he and the lady waiting on him did their dance.

What is it these people are doing? It take me maybe two minutes--tops--to buy my stuff and move along. That's if I'm not rushing.

This happens all the damned time, too. You think somebody who is buying a couple of things will only take a minute to check out and they take all day long. Sheesh!

Yeah, I'm an asshole. But the thing is, I don't care.