Well...

I went to the producer's house today with Dad. Me and the producer went over the songs again with a metronome; he seemed marginally pleased with the fact that I could play in time to a beat. However, he also said that I have a tendency to start flat and swing "up" into the note I need; I also, apparently, have a tendency to sing the fifth harmony of a root note, which means, if I am playing a C chord, I will sing G note. Which is not bad, I guess, but he wants me to work on the "tonal memory" of the songs, so that I can sing the note perfect every time.

Me and Dad got back to my place and took the starter off my car. Either the starter or the solenoid got FUBAR'd, 'cause one or the other of them was "stuck." Dad fooled around with it for a while after we got it off and got it working, but we've decided not to take any chances and just replace it.

Monday, we're in Spokane finishing the cover demo; Tuesday is band practice; Thursday I am going shopping with Mom in the morning and cleaning my house in the afternoon and evening; Friday is my party; Saturday, we have a show; Sunday is the birthday party. Next Monday, I plan to sleep all day. Hahahaha.

Busy Week Upcoming

Saturday afternoon I must go to Spokane to do some more work on my songs with the producer. Monday, I'm back in Spokane finishing the cover demo with the recording studio guy (the one who is having me make him a web site). Tuesday is band practice. Thursday, I am cleaning my house in preparation for my birthday party. Friday is my birthday, and, therefore, my party. Saturday, the band is playing at The Riverbend in Oldtown.

Whaddya Know?

I've got to get $3,000 by the end of May. I was sort of counting on the dispatcher job to cover that, but that is taking too long. Luckily for me, I went The Rio tonight, and ran into a guy who does radio jingles for eight radio stations in the local area. He liked my voice and wants me to do radio jingles for him at $100 per. Score! If I can do 35 of them, I got this thing paid for!

Weekend Report

Sunday, I had gone to bed at 5 AM and got up at 11 AM. Got ready and went to Spokane and had the meeting with the recording studio guy I am doing a web site for. I took a design to him and he liked and said go with it. Okay. Meeting over. I ran on down to my sister's house for the birthday party.

The meeting with the producer got moved back from 4 PM to 6 PM. He wanted me to play my newest stuff first, so I started with "The Night Let Me Down." He didn't say anything while I was playing at all, but when I finished, he says, "yeah, that's a good song, as is." So, yay. He does a few things figuring out about the song, like what key it was in, what other instruments he would put in it, et cetera. Then he said, "Play me a fast one," so I started playing the other one I wrote last week, "The Cover." When I had played it for Kenny, he said it sounded like The Beatles. I was unconvinced. Then, when I played it for the producer, he said the same thing. Said it was definite "hit," and then it was very catchy and hooky, and that, if I cut out a few things that it would be a massive hit. I was okay when he suggested that we cut out the pre-chorus, but when he said that I should cut the first four lines of the chorus, I was dubious, but I said, "Well, let's get Dad out of the sawmill then." So I am re-writing that one. I played all my other newest stuff. The ones he picked to use were "Rumors," which is a new one I wrote back in January or something; "Strings"; and "Relax," a pop song I wrote in 2004. He taped me playing the songs on a little bitty recorder, and then we talked about what direction he would steer my career.

Songwriting

There isn't much going on except that I wrote two new songs. One of them was re-appropriated lyrics from 2003. I've turned it from a boring song into a 1960s pop track. I really like it. It rocks. It is called "The Cover." The other one is kind of a country/rock ballad. It's called "The Night Let Me Down."

Devil's Handiwork Excerpt

Best lines I wrote tonight:

Grabbing the leather jacket on the bed frame, I slid the backpack on and,
bringing the pistol to the ready again, slowly made my way down the stairs. As I
settled my foot on the last step, my eyes adjusting to the darkness again, he
cleared his throat.

I recognized him immediately, and I still shot a hole in the
chair he was sitting in, mere millimeters from his testicles.

"God damn it, Shelby!"

I shot four more times at the chair’s seat, putting the bullets within
hair's breadths of his thighs. He recoiled violently through the tufts of
recliner stuffing floating through the air and toppled backward, chair and all.
I launched myself across the room and vaulted over the now-holey recliner. My
knees pressed into his elbow joints, and I sat hard on his chest. My left
forearm came down across his windpipe while I shoved the barrel of the
still-smoking 9MM into his left nostril. "You've got five seconds to tell me
what the fuck the Council wants with me before I wipe your nose with something a
little more dangerous than a tissue, Billy."

News of Note

Friday night, me and Kenny went to see the drummer's Dad's band play at The Rio. They had me and Kenny play an entire set and a half.

But what I really want to talk about is the OTHER thing that happened Friday night. I had previously arranged for a producer with whom I had been trading messages on MySpace to contact me about 9:30 Friday night. He called while I was at The Rio. This is the same guy I've mentioned before. Well, he told me on the phone that, while the band needed some work the last time they'd seen us, he still thought that I would have a better chance of success by myself as a solo artist. He said that he "really dug" my songs; that they were pop, but had darker lyrics, kinda like a mix (in his words) of Stevie Nicks and Sheryl Crow. He said that he doesn't just work with anybody with money, either. He said that he only works with people he thinks have a real chance of making money with music, and he thinks I have that potential. Yay!

Now, I have been thinking for quite a while about the next record. Obviously, we can't just record the next album the same way - live - as we did the last one. The thing is, to be accepted into the new music business model, you have to have a product that is instantly marketable. Which means paying for world-class recording. If I were to choose just a recording studio, I'd still end up paying them at least $2,500 for the recordings... and I'd be producing them. Honestly, I think I have gone as far as I can all by myself and doing everything. I think it's time to move to the next level and get some professional help for this next project. With this guy, even though I will be paying him $3,500 to record it, he is also going to produce it. Make the songs marketable. Make them sound world class. Make the production sound like everything else.

I had to drive through snow today. Arg. No word from any clients, so I am home-free there. Band's next show is May 5th, with maybe at least one more before then.

Strange Things Are Afoot

I wrote a song today. It is very sad. That's so typical of me.

I went to The Rio tonight to watch my drummer's Dad's band play, because they've come to our shows. And they had us up to perform. Me and Kenny performed "Living On A Prayer" (the slow version), that Irish song I learned for St. Patricks Day (it's actually called "The Rose Pipe-Set"), and "Thirteen" by ourselves. With their band we did a typical easy-song set list, including "Dreams," "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," "Wild Nights," "Brown-Eyed Girl," "I'll Be There For You," and "Sweet Home Alabama."

Tomorrow, like I said, I have a meeting with about a web site, and I have to go to Sandpoint with Mom to do her grocery shopping.

I need to get some projects finished up this weekend, hopefully.

News, News, News

So, one of my project contacts called me yesterday night to tell me that the guy who is funding the project had completely backed out of the project and took all the equipment (whatever that was) with him. She told me that I could keep the start-up money (my deposit) and re-sell the work I had done. I was like, well, whatever. But then, the guy with the moolah called me this morning at about 9 AM to tell me that the project was over but that he wanted to work with me. I told him to send me an e-mail and I'd send him whatever he requested because, you know, 9 AM is too early for me.

I haven't really done anything with any of my projects for a while, although I did hear from that record company in Spokane that wanted us to pay them money to record our record. Whatever, right? Seems that they are changing their tune. I've been doing a lot of thinking here recently, though. Mostly about my music, but some about my books, too, which I would like to get done here pretty quick.

Catch Up

Well, let's see... we played last night. Between Kenny's cold, half the audience leaving during one of our best songs in the second set, and the mistakes we made, the show itself was not as good as our show last week. Kenny's rotten attitude rubbed off on everybody, and that, coupled with the lack of audience energy to feed from, caused us to be... well, we were still good - more than good, actually; we still rocked - but it definitely wasn't our "best" show. By any means.

I did the "911-specific" testing for that job last Monday. It went well, and, as it turns out, I managed to pass the test, and I have an appointment for an interview at 3 PM on Monday.

I've been working my butt off to finish what projects I still have pending for my business, mostly because I get the feeling that I am going to get hired by the Sheriff's office, and I won't have time to do web design if I do get the 911 job. At any rate, I'll just finish one thing up, and two more things will come in. Considering that I do not YET have this other job, I am snapping up whatever work comes my way, as I need the money for a few things. So, I have about 8 projects I am working on right now. Why is it that, just when I'd like things to calm down a bit so that I can concentrate on getting this other job, all this work starts pouring in? And, sure as shit, as soon as I think that I could get by on web design stuff and turn down the job (assuming they offer it to me), the web design stuff will dry up. It's almost as if God wants me to be busier than a neat freak in a landfill.

I did some more writing the other night (Thursday, I think... my days are running together), but nothing significant came out of it, so, nothing to share today.

A Night Borrowed

Well, a while back, I did promise a sneak peek at A Night Borrowed... or, rather, what little I have so far. Well, I'm finally coming through on that promise. I'll warn you, though, that I am not really feeling this so far... and, if you've read Night Cries, a small amount of time has passed between the end of Night Cries and the beginning of this book. Anyway, without further comment, here is the snippet:

It was the perfect place for witchcraft. So, why it surprised me that I was
staring slack-jawed at the scowling visage of a man who had died in my arms more
than a year ago was beyond my comprehension. In fact, most everything but his
face was incomprehensible to me at the moment. I had held him as he died,
begging him not to leave me. The ghost of that loss haunted me constantly since
then, especially when….

My hand clamped tight over my mouth as I continued to
stare. Oh, dear God, I thought. He doesn’t know!

He strode purposefully through the leaf-strewn yard, deftly weaving his way around the bodies of William’s sleeping soldiers. He poked each man as he passed, apparently demanding some sort of information from each one, and, not getting the answer he sought, moved on to the next.

I was frozen in place. I couldn’t feel my feet; I would surely fall if I attempted to move. The shock of his appearance had not yet worn off, though, at least, my brain had thawed enough to begin to put together a few coherent thoughts. Why was he here? How was he here?

And then, our eyes met. The dawning of recognition lit in his eyes. His scowl lifted, and he broke into a run toward me, leaping over the bodies of the men who slept in his path. Startled, I backed up, tripping over the laundry vat behind me, and landing in the cold, dirty water. I struggled to extract myself from the predicament,
taking my eyes from his only for a moment.

His strong hands – as warm as I remembered – lifted me from the water and set me gently on my feet. His hands were on my arms then, and he pulled me roughly to him. His nose touched mine, and I looked up.

"You did this to me, and you are going to fix it."

Not Much To Say

So, um... let's see.

Today, I went to a funeral, which was hard for me, because I kept thinking about the last funeral I went to, which was Grandpa's. It brought up a lot of things I am not ready to face yet.

What else? Kenny may be in a movie.

I have not been paid by that guy who had me design a lighting site for him. I may have to send him a collection letter.

The sheriff's office called today. I am supposed to go in for dispatcher's testing on Monday at 6:30 PM.

No word from ABC New York.

Somebody in the UK downloaded the entire album of "Too Much To Dream" from iTunes back in February, which is cool, but I wish I knew who it was.

The drums were supposed to arrive today, but they did not.

Y'All Ain't Gonna Believe This Shit

So, my Dad found this ad in the Priest River Times that said:

Are you a musician who dreams about making the big time... but have no idea how?
A national television show wants to talk with you. We can't guarantee to make
you famous, but we can promise you an adventure that will be seen by millions.
If you are a musician (or know one) from a very rural spot; who has never
recorded, never gone on a tour; but people tell you: "You could be a star" ...
we want to talk to you.

And it had a phone number and some extensions and whatnot. I thought, well, it's probably a scam, but you never know. So, today, I called the number. A machine picks up that says I've reached ABC New York. So, I punch in the first extension number and expect to get a machine. I have no idea what I am going to say, but I wait as the line rings. And a real person picks up. He asks me all kinds of questions about where I live and just how rural it is... and he seems genuinely pleased to hear all about it. And he asks me some questions about my music, what my dreams are with my music... and I got emotional talking about how I wanted to get my Dad out of the sawmill and how I wanted to honor Grandpa's musical legacy. He told me that I had a very compelling story, and told me that the show they were working on is ABC's "Primetime Live," and, earlier this year, they did a segment about the "6 degrees of separation" just in New York City. Apparently, they'd randomly approchaed people in New York City and had them try to connect themselves in "6 degrees" to some other people with certain qualities. Well, for this, they are doing the same thing again, but they are adding the element of geography. They said that they would want to do the shoot out at my parents' place because of the rural look, and that they would want to have the band play, and that they would be sending me on a 5-day excursion to wherever I needed to go to complete this "mission" of finding this other person within 6 degrees and they would pay for everything. I'm thinking, well, cool. Not at all what I expected, but very cool. So, then he tells me that he will need to see some pictures and hear my music, so I sent him to my band's site, and he kept asking me questions about how I look... like, "Is your hair still that long?" (Yes.) "How tall are you?" (5'11".) And things like that. Then he took my phone number and said that he would be in touch. Pretty cool!

Other News: We were in the studio on Sunday, and are almost finished recording the cover demo. We have lead vocals on three songs left to do and backing vocals on all 6 to do still.

Proper Order of Horse and Cart

I've finally decided that I most definitely want to start a tattoo parlor in town. So, I started laying out a plan on how to do that. First, I figure I need about $2,000 in funding to get started. Basically for the equipment, supplies, and to rent a small space in town, maybe sub-lease from someone. Second, I figure, during the slow days of tattooing, I can still run my web design business. However, there's still those start-up costs. So, I will either need to get a job (911 dispatch, something else, whatever) or get a bunch more web design stuff. Either way, once I have the equipment, I will probably be ready to roll in four months or so.

I talked to a friend of mine tonight, and also to a friend of his who has some contacts in the music industry. I sent him a CD through CDBaby (since I don't have any more). We'll see what happens. The people he wants to show it to are some pretty big names in the producing part of the industry.

Sunday, we're in the studio. Hopefully, by Monday, I'll have gotten paid so I can order a tattoo kit. Tuesday, I am going to a funeral. That's all I know for now. Tomorrow, I will have a sample of A Night Borrowed for you all to read.

Stuff

I found a drum set in the Musician's Friend catalogue that I wanted to buy. It was a Ludwig 5-piece set that came with Zildjan cymbals. All for $479! Great deal, right? NOPE!!!!! Considering that we have a show in 17 days, the two- to four-week stocking period was just too long. So, I started looking at other sets. That's when Kenny comes in and tells me that we have a show on March 10th at The Beef 'N' Brew. So, now we have a show in 10 days. Lovely. So, I went ahead and ordered the Taye drum set and cymbals that the drummer recommended. Should be here 2 to 7 days.

We also had read in the newspaper that a bar was looking for bands to come play. We talk to the guy, and he has heard of our band and seems all excited to have us play. Haven't heard anything back yet, though.

Brief Update...

...because I'm really tired and need to go to bed.

1) No money today from the new client.
2) No band practice tomorrow because we do not have a drum set yet.
3) I have not been writing or drawing or doing a whole lot of anything other than work.
4) I am increasingly disliking work, mostly because no one will pay me.
5) My random play MP3 player just played two Van Morrison songs back-to-back, which is relevant to nothing.
6) I have mucho e-mails to catch up on tomorrow.
7) I am finally formulating a new song!

Another Long Weekend

I'm pretty tired and will be taking a long nap here in a few minutes, but here's a recap of my weekend: I spent Friday at my Mom and Dad's, and one of my Dad's friends came over. And then my Dad's best friend came over. I went home at about 10PM and watched a movie called Idiocracy which was pretty funny. Afterward, I checked my e-mail and had finally received the e-mail from my contact for the new project. I printed out the info so that I could do a quote for them, and then I did the quote, printed out contracts, and did some additional work for the project. I went to bed at about 6:30 Saturday morning.

I got up at 10 AM Saturday and went to the studio. Except we got stuck in the driveway and we were late. The drummer was already there when we got there, but the bassist was no where to be seen. We set up and recorded anyway, just getting the drum tracks, and "scratch" vocals and guitar. After that, me and Kenny went and got lunch and then went to this coffeehouse to meet with the investors in this new project.

So, I went to bed at about 2 AM and got up Sunday at about 11 AM. Then me and Kenny went up to the Legion in Cusick with my aunt and uncle. Me and my aunt played gin and made fun of the country music and then played pool. And now I am home, sleepy and ready to go to bed. I did write some in Devil's Handiwork. Here is some of the best stuff:

I should have known that something was up when two guys in suits came into
the Dew Drop Inn. I wasn’t certain, but I didn’t think that anyone in this area
even knew what a suit was, much less where to buy one. No, overalls and flannel
were haute couture of the Southern Oregon farmers that populated this area.

I definitely should have known that something was wrong when one of them
put a quarter in the jukebox and Mick Jagger started pouring through the
speakers. All the Good Old Boys turned to look at the newcomers, their
displeasure of Hank Williams’ usurpation as the jukebox king evident in their
frowning expressions.

Comments on this, anyone?

Nothing New To Report

I've just been working on new tattoos... I have fifteen or so that I haven't scanned in or added to my book. They're just sitting here.

I got more copies of my book today, so, if anyone wants one, put in your order now from my web site and I'll even sign it for you. One copy is already spoken for, so that leaves three. Get with it. :D

Sent a friend a birthday present and a check for his help with that computer the other day.

No new songs, and no new writing to report.

I have not heard from Civil Service. So, no new clue on what's happening with my life.

News

I just heard that I placed number one on the 911 dispatcher's job.

New can o'worms, I guess.

Aw, Hell...

Today, I had to get up early and go do another computer call-out and fix someone Internet connection. They have a new computer running Vista... and I think it sucks. Perhaps I would get used to Vista, but, right now, with what little contact I've had with it... I don't like it overmuch.

Later, we had band practice, and it went rather well. We went over several originals, including "Even If I Stagger," "Slow Burn," "Relax," and the new one, "Rumors."

Tomorrow, I am going into Spokane to meet with the recording studio guy about his web site and to book some recording time. I also need to go to Guitar Center and buy picks for Kenny, and I want to get some guitar strings for both my guitars. Thursday, I am testing for the 911 dispatcher's job. Friday's still up in the air, as is the weekend. Next Wednesday (the 21st), I am having the temporary crown put on my tooth, and having two cavities filled. That's about as much as I know for right now.

I haven't been writing, and I haven't been drawing tattoos. Mostly, I've been reading a book I got in the mail from a friend of mine.