I’m one for jumping in, feet first, when something seems like a great idea. So when I got invited to join this April Fool’s blog exchange, ever naïve me figured there was no way I’d be the fool.
And then I met Erin and spent some time perusing her blog.
Let me tell you, Erin is the sort of forthright woman I wish I had the balls to be. Of course, there’s always that essential dilemma of women and balls in the first place… I mean, can we actually have them? And why would we want little external holders of testosterone, that hormone that makes us sprout chest hair?
Anyone who knows me well knows that right about now, I’m channeling the spirit of Trevor Wolff, the star of the Trevolution, my series of Rock Fiction novels. Trevor and Erin would get along grand. Me, Susan at West of Mars? Intimidation city!
So let’s move onto safer ground, that spot where Trevor and I can coexist as much as a real-life writer and a fictional bad-boy bass player ever can. I’m talking about the wonderful world of Rock Fiction.
Now, this isn’t a genre you’ll find in a bookstore (yet). It’s more of a broad overview, really, if such a thing can exist. Rock Fiction can be a mystery, it can be a romance, it can be general fiction, it can be science fiction. When it’s successful, Rock Fiction follows the rules of its main genre – a romance will have a Happily Ever After, for example – and still have the beat of music throbbing through each page. The details of the music world are real, be they about a touring rock star’s day or what it feels like when the world is against you so you slap on headphones to help you cope. A good work of Rock Fiction lets you relate. A great work lets you feel like you’re part of it.
For those of us who can’t function without a tune blaring in the not-so-background, Rock Fiction is transformative. It’s our life, or the life we wish we had, on a page. It’s written by people who get it, who are living the same things we are, be it a crappy real life or the dream itself.
Here’s a few to try on for size: My own Trevor’s Song (of course!). Jessica Topper’s Louder Than Love. KL Going’s Fat Kid Rules the World. Peggy Ehrhart’s Sweet Man is Gone. Don Bruns’s St. Barts Breakdown.
If you’d like more, or want me to link to a review you’ve posted online, know that Rock Fiction has moved away from West of Mars and has found its new home at The Rock of Pages (http://therockofpages.com). Like any good rocker or any fantastic song, it couldn’t be contained, piggybacking on the other literary works at West of Mars. It needed a stage of its own.
Those of us who get Rock Fiction will know exactly how and why.