I had a real treat waiting for me when I got home last night, I mean besides, Frank.
Two books I ordered from Amazon had arrived.
One is a rock novel, Say Goodbye: The Laurie Moss Story,” about a woman who grapples with fame in the music biz.
Lewis Shiner, a man who lives in Durham, North Carolina wrote the story. It was published by St. Martin’s Griffin press.
Here’s a jacket blurb:
“Shiner has written a fine novel about rock ‘n’ roll by believing more in muscian’s human nature than in their mythologies.” — Mark Athitakis, New York Times Book Review.
“Like Tom Perotta’s The Wishbones, Jessica Hagedorn’s The Gangster of Love, or Nick Hornby’s two novels, it’s an emotionally credible account of how rock’s grandiosity affects down-to-earth lives.” — Eric Weisbard, Village Voice.
“Rock and Roll literature? It seems like an oxymoron, but Shiner pulls it off.” — Laura Morgan, Entertainment Weekly.
I have long desired to pull it off, myself. I spent years trying to get a coherent story out of my head. The imagining, envisioning stage was delightful and I could do it anytime and any place I wanted.
I met two characters that bounced boldly and bawdily out of the ether and demaned to be given life.
Musician twins Stevie (left) and Dee Darcy (right) rocked my world. I named my future creative enterprises for them.
The story went from scratch to hundreds of pages over the course of that long experiement.
It allowed me to see how much I didn’t know, how truly immature I am and worse how much I lean toward the romantic and soap operatic. So, I spent another few years recoiling from that self-revelation, getting distracted by paid scribe work which killed my playtime thrill with it as a giddy refreshing enterprise. Such is life but only temporarily.
I intended for this painting to be Stevie and Dee in the canyon where they lives but it turned out to be Dee and an adolescent relative. Doh!
Here is a lovely Klimt picture and rich brick-colored beads stuffed in a section of my handy, hold-everything student lamp. Another redhead.
Recently, I decided that I would read everything I could to put myself back into the rock-novel head space.
I started reading the 33 1/3 books and they are really a direct return to places and spaces in my life that music occupied.
I’m one of those people who spent a great part of my life obsessed with music. I love it and many of the stylie things that have come from it appeal to me.
Bob Dylan was one of my early fashion idols. That slick style he adopted after his trips to England in the early 60’s was unparalled.
Bob in polka dots and an op art handkerchief and young Richard Manuel, still all shiny.
Rock n Roll was just the slice of pie that I grew up drooling over and I long to make my vision come through it’s lense.
Yeah, things have changed over the decades. Rock as a defining term has gone through some degree of transformation. I need to digest that, too.
This girl came late to the Rock party but she has it in her bones:
Being a Chicana she’s also a perfect seguey into the other book I received.
What a great coat Kat von D has on here.
Okay, tommorrow Cine Mexicano.