No Boundaries Press

As a writer, I’m supposed to know my audience. It would be the smart thing to look at what’s popular and crank out some of that in a slightly new fashion, right? While I’m drawn to a lot of the archetypes and themes that most people are, I will admit that I have very little interest in doing more of the same. I’m not any better or worse than any other author out there, but I will concede that my interests are probably different. It’s not that I like to push the envelope per say, but I like dealing with topics that might be a little bit uncomfortable.

Now when I say uncomfortable I’m not talking about the dark, scary topics and what if’s that are put into your mind when you’re watching crime shows or something on TV. I’m not talking about dealing with things like kidnapping, sex slavery, serial killers, or that sort of thing. While those types of visceral plots do their job, I’m talking about a different sort of uncomfortable. Let’s face it: we all have thoughts we’re not proud of and most of the time we either try to purge these thoughts out of our consciousness or just never bring them up. Everyone wants the best version of things: the best accommodations a person can afford, the best job they can obtain, the best relationships. At some point best has come to equal typical or normal, and heaven forbid if a person has anything less or different. Heaven forbid if a person acts like a human!

That was the sort of thing that led me to write The Inheritance. Parent and kid relationships in fiction and film are often glossed over or used as a jumping point or foil to whatever the protagonist is supposed to be learning, especially in coming of age stories. Otherwise they’re not show, happy, or freaky to the point of being unhealthy. I really wanted to explore what would happen in a typical relationship where there were some bumpy issues and a grudge. Let’s face it – at some point as we get older we all turn around and start realizing that our parents are human. They do things that don’t always mesh with our opinions; gone is the statute of limitations that says that because they gave birth to us they’re right in all things. Things get really interesting when you start looking back at memories from when you were a kid and realize that your parents were figuring everything out right along with you. They’re human, they’re going to make mistakes and do some dumb things every now and again.

But what if an adult child just can’t let that go? What if she takes it personally? What if the immaturity that spawned the conflict in the first place has trickled into her because she has taken it personally? And what if…just what if she’s sitting on ammunition that could easily put the power back in her hands if she choose to use it. It’s not an outrageously unhealthy relationship the father and daughter have in my story The Inheritance. No one’s abused or beaten down. True, I don’t agree with Zachary’s (the father) parenting methods, but I don’t agree with Kaylee’s (the daughter) response and justification either. What I do think is that it’s fascinating what the inability to communicate does to people, especially when there are so many conflicting emotions. Each of this pair thinks they’re right. Each of them uses psychological and emotional warfare on the other. Each of them is probably likeable in any other aspect of their life except this one relationship. So does giving into the temptation to get one up on each other make them bad people? Does the inability to talk, understand, and forgive make them heinous? Or does it make them human?

Oh, relationships, those weird and wily creatures. They’d be so easy if they didn’t involve people, am I right? But when you combine two people with different interests, different pasts, and different dreams and intentions well…you just never know what’s going to come up.

But who cares about that, because today I’m talking about music. Or rather, I’m talking about my love of music. People who know me well know that I’ll listen to anything. I studied classical voice and the musical theatre style for a while and I still listen to Purcell,  Handel,  Mozart,  Britten,  and  have a collection of old musicals that I love. I love Bollywood soundtracks, movie soundtracks, sea shanties…my tastes are all over the map. Mostly, I’m known for my adoration of classic rock, glam rock, Brit rock, and eighties rock. Yes, it is pointed out to me quite frequently that I have the musical tastes of a middle-aged man, but what can I say? You like what you like. You may have reasons for being passionate about something but like a relationship with a person, your interests aren’t always something that you choose or control. I don’t know exactly when my love of music started – maybe it was singing in choir at school, maybe it was all the Disney movies I overdosed on as a little girl – but the rock thing didn’t happen right away.

I grew up listening to The Beach Boys and every eighties group ever formed (Well what else are you gonna listen to when you go out roller skating?) and yeah, I went through a boy band phase. (We’ve all been there in some form or another so keep your comments to yourselves!) At some point when I started studying classical music, though, I decided that that was it. I liked the complicated runs, I liked the challenge of learning to read music with it, I like how much it stretched my range, and I liked learning the languages that went with it. Tackling and singing an art song successfully was like standing on the top of Mt. Everest. It was the same thing with musical theatre – every song I came across in that genre just made sense to me. It was describing life, emotions, and everything I couldn’t put into words myself! Plus, at the time I had visions of Broadway in my eyes so I clung to Gershwin, Cole Porter, Andrew Lloyd Weber, and Stephen Schwartz as if my life depended on it. It wasn’t until I was in my late teens and early twenties that I realized that while I love those genres (and still do),  I liked singing them more than I liked listening to them.

At some point David Bowie was dropped into my lap (Well not literally, because I was seventeen at the time and that would have been weird). The combination of intelligence, artistry, theatrics, and just plain well-crafted music changed everything. To this day musically there’s David Bowie and there’s everyone else. Eventually I started branching out and discovered that the music I had initially feared (small-town girl that I was) gave me a feeling of power and liberation. Led Zeppelin,  Iggy Pop,  The Kinks,  Clapton,  The Who,  The Guess Who,  Blue Oyster Cult,  Def Leppard,  Deep Purple,  Lou Reed,  Aerosmith and on and on- they all have special places in my heart. Classic rock became the thing that perked me up when nothing else worked. It was fun to dance to, I could work to it, and it expressed things that I wasn’t good at putting into words, myself. The older I’ve gotten the less of a crutch music has become, but it’s a part of me. It’s a huge part of me.

I don’t expect everyone to agree with my tastes or understand, but I do appreciate some semblance of respect. I don’t mind teasing because God knows I can give it right back, but I get highly suspicious when someone keeps hammering in how awful or weird my musical likes are, especially in relationships. Unlike the characters in The Other Man, I haven’t necessarily had music become a wedge between me and another person, but for me putting my eccentric tests out there is a litmus test. If a guy can’t let that go,  or assumes I’m a certain way because of what I listen to,  then that tends to give me a clue that things aren’t going to work. I don’t expect to like everything my friends,  family,  or people I’m interested in like,  but I’m not going to beat them up about it. That’s silly, because it’s a part of them. However, I’ve seen and heard about arguments over a person’s quirks or interests that turn into all-out warfare. I don’t get it, and it seems like often times the argument is covering up deeper insecurities or issues. In The Other Man Andrew’s irritation at his wife’s musical choices covers up deep frustration at the direction his life has taken, as well as a big secret of his own. What’s he hiding? Is the ongoing argument between Andrew and his wife Bethany resolved? And what, exactly is his problem with pop music? Well, you’ll just have to read it to find out!