Hella Stella

I did something scary this weekend. Not horror movie scary, but personal risk scary. Let me rewind.

Months ago, my BH and I were chatting about my next album and what it might sound like. He asked me who my dream producer would be, and I told him - we'll call the producer Karl. He asked why I haven't contacted him, and I responded simply that he was way too cool to talk to someone like me. I'm a huge fan of this guy, and I could see no reason why he would ever want to chat with a broke songwriter.

Fast forward to last Friday.

I was daydreaming about the album, I looked up Karl's website, and I sent 100% shameless fan mail to him. I also mentioned that I would love it if he would consider producing my next project.

Not only did he respond, telling me he had listened to (and loved) my songs, but he also called me last night to talk about the album. Called ME.

During the conversation, I had to shut down the part of my brain that was shouting "This guy is too cool for you! Don't waste his time!" It was nerve wracking, partly because I respect his work so much, and partly because I am not really ready to start recording. This is the planning phase for the album. The phase where I start writing songs and grant applications. Not the phase where I drive to Montreal and start laying down studio tracks. I mean, to be honest, I never really expected him to respond to my e-mail in the first place, so I wasn't as concerned with the timing of things.

Luckily, he was okay with that.

Now of course I am incredibly concerned with the timing of things. I'm writing up a giant to do list to avoid feeling in over my head. It's too late for that though - I feel completely in over my head.

I'm not sure yet if he'll actually end up producing me, but in the meantime he's given me loads of contacts and a few places to start from.

Scary. But really damn cool.