Maybe I’ve been remiss in not adding my own two cents to the new collaboration between Lou Reed and my beloved Metallica.

That’s because I don’t like to be negative. Or to ride on bandwagons (usually. Some are worthwhile).

But here’s the thing: while I don’t like Lulu, in my eyes, it’s performance art. More power to Lou and Tallica for bringing performance art into realms it hasn’t previously gone. Or if it has, history’s erased it pretty quickly. Just the fact that this is Lou Reed and Metallica… yeah. Not fading into the archives so fast, you know? Even if it never meets with anything other than disdain and derision, it’s earned a spot in musical history.

Not helping the cause any is a recent interview Lou gave to The Telegraph. Really, really bad move here, Lou.

Saying you’re more literate than most people who interview you? That you made Lulu for literate people?

Dude. There aren’t many more literate than me. Or most of the people who read my blog. After all, literate means (according to Merriam-Webster online) Educated, cultured. A second entry says, “Versed in literature or creative writing.”

Nowhere in the definition does it talk about being a snob. Or a dick.

And I don’t care if you’re notoriously scary to interview, worse than my fictional Mitchell on his worst days (because, as many of you know, Mitchell’s merely putting on an act. Lou seems real.). Putting down the people who may get what you’ve tried to accomplish just isn’t very smart PR. Don’t alienate the people who’re going to spend money on you, Lou. Not in this economy.

Lou, every person who stops in here at West of Mars will probably shock you with their literacy levels. I doubt you made Lulu for a single one of us. Stop putting us down, stop looking down your nose at us because we don’t conform to your idea of what a literate person is.

And while you’re at it, get away from my Metallica boys. While I’m glad to see them stretching their musical chops and working with you, I don’t want to see what sort of ways in which you’re going to bring them down. Because after reading that article? I don’t see how anyone who spends any time around you can be anything BUT a downer.

Blech. I know people you can hang around. Better you than me, dude. I don’t have the time or energy for the lot of you.

Well, folks, on Wednesday, the announcement came out. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductees, class of 2012.

Ready?

Beastie Boys
Donovan
Guns N’ Roses
Laura Nyro
Red Hot Chili Peppers
The Small Faces/The Faces

WOW. I can’t argue against a single one of them. The Beastie Boys made it okay for White Jewish kids to rap, and they did it with a sense of mirth and joy. They broke at a time when rap was a ghetto thing, and there they were, looking absurd and gleeful. I doubt rap would have crossed over into the mainstream the way it did without them.

Donovan? He followed the Beatles across the pond but was a folkie. The first one to cross the drink — and not satisfied. His bio on the Hall of Fame website claims he single-handedly ignited the psychedelic movement. That alone makes him a worthy inductee.

Guns ‘n Roses… maybe their timing wasn’t the best, coming just as grunge broke, but they redefined Hair Metal, giving it a gritty (if a bit abusive and eccentric. Thanks, Axl!) edge that many, many bands remain influenced by even today. Maybe they’re not as relevant as they used to be; Hell, maybe Axl’s turned them into a sideshow, but you can’t deny what they did for Hair Metal. Or the long-form video. The videos that were spawned by Use Your Illusion (I and II) broke new ground. I miss those sorts of videos.

Hell, I miss videos.

Laura Nyro — she might be harder to justify, as I think you should only be inducted to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame if you’ve changed music in one form or another. Nyro’s contribution was simply in amazing songs. Yes, that’s less sexy than what Axl and company did, but it happened. She influenced everyone from Streisand to the 5th Dimension to Peter, Paul and Mary. I suppose you can argue that she gave a voice to the folk music of the 1960s. Which means including her in the Hall of Fame isn’t hard to justify, at all.

Chili Peppers — I will go to my grave at the ripe old age of 842 remembering the story of the night the Red Hot Chili Peppers took the stage at Pittsburgh’s Electric Banana in nothing but tube socks… or tried to. Owner Johnny Zarra forced them, at gunpoint, to put more clothes on. I wasn’t there that night, but I’ve heard Johnny talk about it.

The Peppers have done more for rock music than engage in outrageous behavior. Just how they did it is rather difficult to define, but they sure did. Go back and listen to their old stuff (especially BloodSugarSexMagik) and you’ll get it.

Okay, you may not get their music, but you’ll get how they changed things.

The Small Faces/the Faces — Originally born at the time of The Who, The Rolling Stones, and the Beatles, I don’t know why the Small Faces (later reborn as The Faces) don’t get more attention. They “set the standard for Sixties soul-inflected pop and English psychedelic romanticism” (quote from their bio on the RRHOF site). It may not be your thing, but that’s okay. Rock and roll is big enough for all of us.

To the inductees, I say, “Well done!” and a huge, hearty “thank you.” Without these good (albeit a bit nuts) people leading the way, well… wow. That makes my brain hurt. The impact these people have had on the daily lives of every single person who turns on any sort of radio or iPod, or who even know who Lady Gaga is…

Rock and roll has been part of our culture since its inception in the 1950s. That’s a darn long time.

May it live on and on.

Of course I worked for a concert promoter! Two, actually. While I liked the idea and the environment, I can’t say it was the right fit for me. That doesn’t mean, if the opportunity presented itself, that I wouldn’t go back. I would. Maybe the third time will be the charm.

Barry Fey was the concert promoter in Denver. He’s a legend among promoters. And now, he’s written a book that may or may not help me decide if my two experiences with promoters were worth being open to a third go-round.

It’s called Backstage Past, and it’s the story of his life as a promoter — and all the adventures and hijinks and craziness he witnessed and was part of. This was during the heyday of rock, you know: the sixties through the nineties. Before corporate America entered the picture.

This could have been my life, if I’d made different choices. And been born earlier (wow! I don’t feel old for once!). And … and …

Yeah. Nevermind.

Backstage Past. Another Rock Nonfiction book I’m busy coveting.

I know. I need to get as good about coveting Rock Fiction as I am about coveting Rock NONFiction.

(Have you subscribed to Rocks ‘n Reads, my review blog? You can keep up with my Rock Fiction exploits over there — once I’ve stopped coveting the books, picked them up, and read them, that is.)

Anyway, here’s one for us old-school rocker types. (Oh, holy shit, are we really old-school? When and how did THAT happen???)

Classic Rock Magazine, based in the UK, has just released a new book about the making of the seminal Appetite for Destruction album.

Here’s some skinny about it:

This is an authorised book by Marc Canter, which was originally published in America in 2008. It features over 600 never-seen-before pictures and rare memorabilia of GN’R in their early days, as the band formed and made the legendary Appetite For Destruction.

There are also interviews with Slash, Duff McKagan and Steven Adler, as well as the band’s old managers and roadies.

Read the whole thing here. As always, send and review or spare copies directly to me.

Three Word Wednesday and the awesome dudes at Metal Sucks teamed up for this flash featuring ShapeShifter. But… where’s Trevor?

“We’re working with who on this one?” Mitchell asked. He scratched the top of his head, his elbow sticking out at an odd angle. Kerri had to duck under it.

“Jason McNair,” Daniel said, looking over the fax he’d just picked up at the hotel lobby. “He’ll meet us here in the lobby in …” He glanced at his wrist, but Kerri wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he ever wore a watch.

Kerri smiled as Daniel looked around the ornate lobby for a clock. A red digital display — terribly out of place with the gold filigree and plush upholstery everywhere else — hung over the front desk. Daniel blinked at it, then checked the fax again. “Ten minutes,” the drummer said.

“Why?” Mitchell asked, sounding pained. “What’s wrong with Adam?”

Daniel shrugged. “JR wanted some new blood. Apparently, this Jason dude has a concept he wants to sell us.” He consulted the fax again as Eric arrived. “We have to behave, JR says,” Daniel continued, acknowledging Eric’s arrival with a shallow nod.

Mitchell began coughing, sounding for all the world like he was choking on something. Kerri understood; telling ShapeShifter to behave was sort of like telling the sun to stop shining. It was also an invitation to create a mob scene.

In short: that sort of instruction never went over well.

Daniel held up the second page of the fax, turning it so Mitchell, Kerri, and Eric could see it. “He’s the one who did this,” he said.
Mitchell’s face turned purple. Kerri, laughing herself, pounded him on the shoulder. Eric frowned and took the picture from Daniel. “We can’t jettison the guy? Get out of here, like, now?”

“Doubt it,” Daniel said. With two fingers, he plucked the page out of Eric’s hands and spent a long minute studying it. Kerri leaned over his shoulder, alternately appalled and amused by it.

The band, who she’d never heard of, was made up of five guys. They stood in a Flying V, the four outside of the vortex looking as typical metal as possible: aloof, disillusioned, angry, ready to kick some ass. All at once.

There was serious irony in the shot, Kerri thought. The straw hat on the dude on the left. The only baldie and the only long-hair standing together.

But that final dude… the one at the back of the V. The one with his back to the camera and his hands held out wide, like they were ready to grab the gun out of the holster on his hip and start shooting, only to reach for the one under his knee when all six shots were gone…

Kerri hoped it was irony the picture was supposed to be conveying.

And God help this Jason guy if he tried to make anyone in ShapeShifter pose like that.

Yep, I’m out and about again, this time visiting with Dorothy Dreyer at We Do Write.

It’s an interview and you know what? I love giving interviews. Stop on in and see why.

Many of us hate the holidays for a variety of reasons. Family. Travel. Football. Too much food. Food you don’t like. Weather. Not enough Rock Fiction to drown out the drunken ramblings of Crazy Uncle Sal, who’s up in arms this year over the whole Penn State Scandal, and who’s not sick of hearing about THAT already?

Whatever the reason, it’s most likely not MY reason.

My reason is that I’m not online. Not working. Probably not reading and most definitely not writing. This year, it was partly due to a migraine that hit the day before Thanksgiving and lasted until… this morning. Yeah. Almost eight days. Whee. Fun.

That’s why I’m late letting you guys know of a fun interview I did with author Jess C. Scott.

It’s short, too, which is always the best kind (given that I do one-question interviews, don’t you think I agree?). Stop in, check it out, and be sure to say hi to Jess, will ya?

After all, this isn’t just networking for me. It’s for you guys, too. Meet another cool author. Maybe you’ll host her at your site. Maybe she’ll host you. You get how these things work.

It all begins with hello.

I don’t get myself sometimes. I recently read and reviewed Richard Hell’s Go Now, his 1996 novel(la) about a junkie road trip from Hell. It’s a good read, if you like junkie road trips. Me, I’m not big on them. I have a hard time connecting with junkie characters.

However, Richard Hell and his character Billy aren’t the same person. I know that. I would be disappointed if they were, to be honest: writing your life as fiction is a beginner’s move. It’s a necessary step on the path to being a great novelist/fiction writer. Which means that yes, shoved under a bed somewhere — probably my parents’ house because they hang on to that sort of sentimental stuff — is a book where the main character is an autobiographical version of me.

So… why am I not more eager to read Richard Hell’s memoir? I Dreamed I was a Very Clean Tramp.

Maybe because even the title make me think of Billy. Maybe because in the press release I found, there’s not a lot of information included.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. I’m not sure why I’m so resistant, to be honest. After all, this is what I do. Rock Fiction, Rock Memoir… if it’s about music, it’s what I’m about. Which means at some point, this will cross my threshhold and I’ll read it and… well, we’ll see where we go from there.

I just sat down to the news that Anne McCaffrey has died.

You may wonder what a Rock Fiction author like me is doing being upset about a Science Fiction/Fantasy author like McCaffrey.

Let’s just say she was one of the first authors whose world — that of Pern — set my imagination awing (yeah, I’m groaning at that one, myself). She taught me more about world-building and the way in which a book — or, in this case, a series of books — can be your best friend. Even today, when I need a comfort read, I turn to the original two trilogies. One of these days, I’ll even get my kids to read them.

I even wrote about my relationship to this series, back in 2009, as part of the Rosie’s Riveters series at BookLust.

We’ve known this day was coming, when we’d lose Anne. After all, life’s a cycle and there’s only one way out of it.

I hadn’t thought it would be yesterday, but I’m glad it wasn’t much sooner.

Rest easily, Anne. You did something I only aspire to: you changed lives. For the better.

I’ve known Jaimey Grant online for eons now. Always fast with a virtual smile or supportive saying, she’s awesome folk.

That’s why I’m honored to have her here today with not one but TWO songs that make her think of her newly released short story, The Dragon’s Birth.

Here’s Jaimey:

Crawl by Breaking Benjamin* brings my story to mind but only from Darok’s perspective (main protagonist). He’s a young king who hears a voice in his head. While wondering if he’s crazy, truly crazy, he’s trying to determine if the legends about dragon blood in his family are true. It doesn’t help that the voice in his head claims to be a dragon, a creature he’s been raised to believe is the epitome of evil, a monster.

A few of the lyrics that really stand out:

A shadow of a man, I am nothing less
I am holding on, still holding on
And every now and then life begins again
I am holding on, still holding on

I’m not like you, your faceless lies
Your weak dead heart, your black dead eyes
I’ll make it through, but not this time
You hope is gone and so is mine

Live, fight, crawl back inside
Sick, blind, love left behind
And I won’t live your weak wicked lie
You pull me in, I’m one step behind

…

I’m becoming a monster, just like you
After it all you’ll try to break me too
Falling forever, chasing dreams
I brought you to life so I could hear you scream

On the other hand, Lights Out by Breaking Benjamin* is just as appropriate but from Bental’s perspective (the main antagonist/dragon voice in Darok’s head). He’s a living being just like any other, but trapped in the head of little more than a child playing at king. He’s not a simple “evil” creature, but he is determined to escape Darok’s head, to become his own physical being, and he can’t be concerned with who gets hurt in the process.

The lyrics that really stand out to me:

I am done pretending
You have failed to find what’s left
I will suck you dry again
Some are not worth saving
You are such a pretty mess
I will choke the life within

Now you want to take me down
As if I even care
I am the monster in your head
And I thought you’d learn by now
It seems you haven’t yet
I am the venom in your skin
And now your life is broken

After the lights go out on you
After your worthless life is through
I will remember how you scream
I can’t afford to care
I can’t afford to care

*No copyright infringement intended. I am not in any way implying the endorsement of Breaking Benjamin. I’m just a fan. (Sorry, I felt the need to include that. One can never be too careful.)

For an excerpt of The Dragon’s Birth
The Dragon’s Birth on Smashwords
The Dragon’s Birth on Kindle

Okay, Susan’s going on the record here: I love Breaking Benjamin. Good picks, Jaimey!

I was washing dishes Saturday night and had the toonz on. Not an atypical event around these parts, but that doesn’t surprise you. Your favorite Rock Fiction Writer usually has the toonz blaring. And yes, I do like to do dishes. It’s a great time to let your mind wander through your characters’ lives. (WAIT until you meet the new gang!)

I knew the song currently playing was some old Stone Temple Pilots. I knew that. I did. I was even humming along, a little bit, in my own tone-deaf way.

And suddenly, I paused. The warm water kept flowing over my hands, the scrubby side of the sponge froze, poised over the roasting pan’s rack, and I told myself to breathe.

All of a sudden, the song (and don’t ask which it was. I couldn’t tell you) sounded like 1980s Whitesnake. Still of the Night, in fact. (Holy smoke, I’d forgotten Adrian Vandenberg was in the band back then)

For a second there, I wasn’t sure who had hacked my iPod.

And then the second passed, and Stone Temple Pilots sounded like Stone Temple Pilots again.

But I feel an odd desire to put on a push-up bra and go dance in front of my car. After I turn the headlights on. I’m not sure why.

More and more, I’m letting Chelle rant about doings in and around the music industry. Be sure to click on her category over there and check out how her voice has evolved and see which of her rants are based on real life. I’ll be honest about this one: it is. You may say it’s hypocritical of me, who is scarily dependent on her satellite radio, to let Chelle have this view, but c’mon. Chelle is fictional. Go with it.

Now, Chelle here don’t know what flavor Kool-Aid them peeps over at that big ole radio conglomerate must’ve drank to think this was some good idea to hitch their wagons to. It sure ain’t any Kool-Aid Chelle be wantin’ a taste of.

It don’t pass muster. Part of what makes this here music business so amazing is the way it regionalizes itself. That means, boys and girls not as savvy as Chelle here, that when you get off that airplane and move about the country and turn on the radio in whatever city you done wound up in, you hear different music. Different songs from them bands you know and love. Even better, you get to hear bands you never heard of. You get to bring it home and spread the love.

This is important stuff. It’s what gives each city its character, like the way jazz defines this fair city, and how jazz defines Chicago but in both places, jazz is an entirely different creature.

And metal. We got grunge outta Seattle, we got the Bay Area sound, we got LA and Hair Metal, we got Riverview and my ShapeShifter boys. You think all them individual sounds woulda come about if every single one-a them boys who listened to the radio back in the good old days heard the same old, same old?

That’s what we’re facin’, boys and girls. Everyone hearin’ the same music at the same time. Same bands. Same songs. Same, same, same.

And then all you music lovers go and complain how every band sounds ‘xactly the same.

Well, here’s some news for y’all! They do! That’s ’cause they all bein’ influenced by the same other bands and the same other songs out there. There’s nothin’ in anybody’s ears that sets them apart no more.

Even worse, there’s now hundreds and thousands of good folk who love music and who tried to devote their entire lives to it, who now gotta go find jobs. How many-a ’em gonna get further than Wal-Mart? They be music lovers, just like you and me. And they out in the cold, which ain’t doin’ nobody no good. Especially the rest of us music lovers. You get what I’m sayin’?

You heard it first, and you heard it here: firin’ all them DJs only done a bad turn to a music world already hurtin’. There ain’t no music fans at that big corporation. If there are, they done sold their souls to the almighty dollar.

Yep, I’ve been out and about of late — again. It’s becoming a constant thing, so come join me and meet some new bloggers and readers, whydon’tcha? It’s a big world. Come play in it.

Demo Tapes 3 has been featured over at i write indie books. There may not be anything you haven’t already seen about DT3, but stop in and check out the site anyway. Authors, drop a line and get your book featured! Readers, look for other great reads. (And buy a copy of DT3 for a Christmas present for a friend, whydon’tcha?)

And then you can read a guest blog post I did with the fabulous (and I’m not just saying that) Jason McIntyre over at The Farthest Reaches. Jason’s one of those fabulous writers I mention here from time to time, and he’s a cool dude.

Have I mentioned I love the name Jason? I’ll have to create a fictional Jason in tribute…

Mmm. Talk about a recipe for ambrosia here, baby! I don’t know how this one slipped past my ever-vigilant eye, but thanks to the awesome Jeremy Wagner for the head’s up on it.

Have I teased you enough? Is it time to come clean and tell you what’s going on?

Two long-time, hard-core, die-hard (and any other compound adjectives I can think of, in a positive vein) Metallica fans have put out what might be my ultimate book. It’s called Murder in the Front Row: Shots from the Bay Area Thrash Metal Epicenter. These fans? They’ve transcended being fans, actually. They are a part of that Bay Area Thrash Metal Epicenter, themselves.

They are none other than Harald Oimoen (yes, the legendary Harald O) and Brian Lew.

Here’s the blurb:

In the 1980s, the San Francisco Bay Area was heaven for hardcore headbangers. Shunning Hollywood hairspray and image in favor of a more dangerous street appeal, the Bay Area thrash metal scene was home to Exodus, Metallica, Testament, Possessed, Death Angel, Heathen, Vio-Lence, Attitude Adjustment, Forbidden, and Blind Illusion — and served as a second home to like-minded similar bands like Slayer, Mercyful Fate, Anthrax, Megadeth, and more. Beginning as teenagers taking snapshots of visiting heavy metal bands during the 1970s, Brian “Umlaut” Lew and Harald “O.” Oimoen documented the birth and growth of the local metal scene. Featuring hundreds of unseen live and candid color and black-and-white photographs, Murder in the Front Row captures the wild-eyed zeal and drive that made Metallica, Slayer, and Megadeth into legends, with over 100 million combined records sold.

Dude. Can I say little inspires me more than pictures and visuals? This is manna from heaven. Ambrosia. It’s mainlined chocolate.

And it had better not let me down…

I’m over at the Indie Writers Association today, giving you a sneak peak of what comes after Trevor Wolff. Can anything come after him?

Time will tell…

Come on by and join me, won’t you?

I’ve known Julia Smith for eons now. Three lifetimes in a blogger’s life. Maybe more.

Julia and I have followed each other through some pretty major changes in our lives, and I’m thrilled to have her stop in today to talk about her new book, Saint Sanguinus. Which means, of course, that I asked her the Famed One Question Interview: What song makes you think of your book?

That is easy-peasy.

I wrote the initial draft of SAINT SANGUINUS while listening to the full length ballet score for Romeo and Juliet by Prokofiev.

The only hard part is choosing one section to share with your readers.

So I’ll have to go with the dark, dramatic tomb sequence from the final act.

Instead of Romeo and Paris fighting in the shadows of Juliet’s tomb, let’s picture a vampire clan surrounding our hero Peredur as he’s tormented by Lord Muirdach and given the choice to join them—or die.

Blurb:
An elite brotherhood stands between humans and vampires, preventing one side from annihilating the other. Who are called to this service? Only those warriors who curse God with their dying breath.

Welsh warrior Peredur falls to a spear before he can claim Tanwen for his bride. Raging on the battlefield, Peredur utters the curse that seals his fate and leads him to another life. Using the power of a saint whose bone makes up an amulet, Peredur takes on the trials to become a true member of the brethren. Yet his need for the chieftain’s daughter Tanwen still burns.
Tanwen resists her father’s command to take a husband. The only one who understands her sorrow is Cavan, the wise woman’s son. When he promises that he can reunite her with her beloved, she agrees to his terms. But does Tanwen truly understand the depth of the price that must be paid?

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For my first Rocktober, I think it was a huge success. I got a lot of people talking about it, got a whole slew of reviews posted, and hopefully laid some groundwork for next year.

There were a couple moments that made all the work — and believe me, there was a LOT of work behind it! — worthwhile. Reviews of my books went up (and, as promised, those review writers have been asked if they’d like to be on the review team I’m working on building). Amazon put the print versions of ALL THREE Demo Tapes books on their 4-for-3 sale, where you pick four eligible books and get the most inexpensive one for free. That’s still going in, it looks like.

I know. It’d be a better deal if Trevor’s Song was in the mix. But… these things aren’t up to me, or it would be.

At any rate, to all who joined in to celebrate Rocktober, thank you. If all you did was hit a Retweet button, thank you. If you did more, put a post up, read a work of Rock Fiction… thank you.

Rock Fiction deserves to be its own genre.

Before I’m out of here and on to the next fun thing, let me tease you a bit… King Trevor, the follow-up to Trevor’s Song is currently scheduled for this year’s Susan’s Birthday Release. And I’d love to have Demo Tapes 4 out for you next Rocktober.

Keep on spreading the word…

Okay, so news of the passing of GWAR member Flattus Maximus broke six days ago. I haven’t mentioned it here yet because…

Well, I’m still reeling.

I probably never knew Cory Smoot. After all, my days hanging around GWAR happened back in the early 1990s (ouch. How’s THIS for dating myself?) and Cory had only been in the band since 2002. That’s a big time gap.

I’ve been fond of GWAR since I first heard of them. I mean, how can you NOT be a fan of a band where the members (heh) dress up in elaborate costumes that look like they were ripped off from Oakland Raiders football fans? Add in the blood, the pee, the … other male bodily fluids of questionable taste that would be spewed into the crowd, creating the world’s most slippery (heh) mosh pit and the only time tough guys would revel in wearing a pink t-shirt, and really. It didn’t matter what GWAR sounded like. They could have no clue what a guitar was and they’d still rule the Earth.

It was about attitude. Showmanship. Escape from reality.

And GWAR delivered.

I remember hanging out with Record Label Folk (back in the days when I aspired to be one. Along with a best-selling author. All at the same time). I can picture the dude at Metal Blade but darn if I can remember his name…

Even more important, I remember his story: Weeks after a GWAR show, he was wearing the leather jacket he’d worn that night. It was a rainy night. Rivulets of pink, remnants from the show, ran down him, alarming the people around him.

That is truly my favorite GWAR story. Even better than the night I hung at the converted roller rink and got to meet the men and women underneath the makeup and costumes. Even better than the fact that I may possibly own the only white GWAR t-shirt in existence.

Even better than the shows I was present for. And let me tell you, if you’ve never seen GWAR, check your sensibilities at the door, put your prude cap aside, and let yourself go. They are offensive, loud, in-your-face, wrong, shocking, horrifying… and so, so good.

So… we say goodbye and Godspeed to Cory Smoot, a guy who died before his time but at least got to live his dream.

May the rest of us be so lucky.

I meet neat people via Twitter. Our latest is @SweetSheil, or SG Lee. She’s a fan of mine, which automatically makes me a fan of hers.

Anyway, she’s got a new book out, called Love’s Labours Won. She sent me a .pdf copy, so I’ll get on the proper downloading of that soon (and hopefully the reading of it, as well, but man, you guys love to send me books!).

While I’m doing that, check out the songs she’s picked as the songs that most make her think of her book. I bet you never thought you’d see some of THESE artists on this here blog! (Hey, it’s good for us. All of us. Especially me. I don’t invite you guys here to talk about your favorite Metallica song, after all!)

Without further ado, here’s SG with her song picks. Buy links are at the bottom of the post. Use them!

Rasmus In The Shadows best describes Sarah because of the lyrics. Sarah has been waiting for family,waiting for her life to begin. She is disconnected having no family that she knows of and she feels like she’s been invisible all her life. Now, she finds what she has been searching for, but she is still
wary.

Artist: The Rasmus Album: Miscellaneous

No sleep
No sleep until I am done with finding the answer
Won’t stop
Won’t stop before I find a cure for this cancer
Sometimes
I feel I going down and so disconnected
Somehow
I know that I am haunted to be wanted

I’ve been watching
I’ve been waiting
In the shadows all my time
I’ve been searching
I’ve been living
For tomorrows all my life

In the shadows

In the shadows

They say
That i must learn to kill before i can feel safe
But I
I rather kill myself then turn into their slave
Sometimes
I feel that I should go and play with the thunder
Somehow
I just don’t wanna stay and wait for a wonder

I’ve been watching
I’ve been waiting
In the shadows all my time
I’ve been searching
I’ve been living
For tomorrows all my life

Lately I been walking walking in circles, watching waiting for something
Feel me touch me heal me, come take me higher

I’ve been watching
I’ve been waiting
In the shadows all my time
I’ve been searching
I’ve been living
For tomorrows all my life
I’ve been watching
I’ve been waiting
I’ve been searching
I’ve been living for tomorrows

In the shadows

In the shadows
I’ve been waiting

*But also Fireworks by Katy Perry because that is how Demetrious sees her.*
*
*
*Songwriters:* Dean, Esther; Eriksen, Mikkel; Hermansen, Tor Erik; Perry,
Katy; Wilhelm, Sandy Julien;

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?

Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there’s still a chance for you
‘Cause there’s a spark in you?

You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

‘Cause baby, you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, oh
You’re gonna leave ’em falling down

You don’t have to feel like a waste of space
You’re original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe you’re reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it’s time, you’ll know

You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

‘Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, oh
You’re gonna leave ’em falling down

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It’s always been inside of you, you, you
And now it’s time to let it through

‘Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, oh
You’re gonna leave ’em falling down

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
*
*
*You can buy my book at Smashwords*
*it will soon be available at **Amazon,**,**Barnes and Noble, Sony, and
Apple.

Here’s the blurb:

Sarah is a young single woman in dire straits. Her rent is due, she was fired from her last job and she has no family to turn to. In desperation, she accepts the offer of a mysterious job interview. The job offers a magical world she never knew existed, but is it a trick to use her for evil purposes? As she explores her past to find her future, will Sarah face her greatest challenge yet?

Yep, I’m keeping the promotion machine in high gear over here.

Come visit with me over at Working Writers, where I’ve done an interview that reveals some writing goals you all will be interested in.

And then stop in at Adopt An Indie Month, where I’ve written about my path to publication. Is Trevor Too Niche for New York?

Remember, if you’d like to host me for an interview or a guest blog post, I’d be honored and flattered.

Either way, be sure to stop in, see what I have to say, and meet some new folk. Who knows? You might meet a new best friend.