I dedicate this post to my dad, one of the first rock gods.
So I am starting to work on a book for adults. I guess they’re called novels. I keep calling it an “adult novel,” (so as to somehow distinguish it from my young adult work) which leads folks to believe that I am out to write the next 50 Shades of Gray. Maybe I should just do that.
Anyhow, for this new book, I will attempt to write some chapters in the voice of a man, that is, I will attempt to create a fictional male character. I find this daunting and exciting! I have never done such a thing before. Remember, I started out as a poet and I write a lot of autobiographical stuff and well, it has really never occurred to me or even seemed necessary for me to try to write a man. Aren’t there enough men out there already who won’t shut the hell up? (Oops, that last sentence just slipped out). Why should I pretend to be a man and create yet another one of those guys? But seriously, I like the idea of a woman writing in a man’s voice, and I’m told that this is what the fiction writers do–they create characters that are not them. Shocking.
Anywho, in preparation for making this guy, who is a middle-aged musician, and loosely based on someone I used to know, I am reading some rock and roll autobiographies. I began with Keith Richard’s Life and pretty much devoured it. Everyone loves this book, but now I see why. First of all, there is no one out there like Keith Richards. He has done stuff (drugs, women, music, court appearances, villas, speedboats, Mick, Anita, side bands,) that most of us will never even get a chance to think about. Also, most of these things and people should have killed him. He should be dead, about 40 times over, but he’s not. He’s still rocking out and looking terrible and feeling pretty awesome about it. (more…)