Punk By The Book

I’ve written about all the amazing things punk rock has done for me as a writer, and I’ve invited others to use my space to do the same. When I first started writing, I tried over and over again to capture the chaotic, frenetic energy of a mosh pit. I tried to get to the heart of what it felt like to have the bass line replace your heart beat in a crowded, dirty room.

I’ve never been able to do it.

It’s one of those inexplicable, full body, total mind experiences that defies any meaningful explanation. That’s okay, I think most of the beautiful stuff is the same way. I can describe falling in love, but you’re never going to feel the way I felt when I fell for my husband. I can describe the moment I held my daughter for the first time, or the day I graduated boot camp and officially became a US Marine. If I do it right, you feel something, but you’ll never feel what I felt.

Is punk rock as amazing and beautiful as those three examples?

Well. Yes and no. There’s opportunity after opportunity to listen to the music, to gather in this crowded rooms, to hear an amazing song by one of your favorite bands for the first time. But I only got to fall for my husband and my kid ONCE. So those experiences were way more powerful. Way more knock you on your ass if you’re not sitting down. But punk’s been there long before and will be there long after.

My heart swells when I catch the kid singing along to Bikini Kill and Anti-Flag. I love getting to enjoy that music with her (and yes, we listen to Tay Tay, too),but the idea of taking her into one of those crowded rooms is a little too intense at her age. Even if she pouts.

But, as she developed a stronger and stronger love for Anti-Flag, and their new album was really hitting her deep - they announced a listening party with an acoustic set near-ish to us. No risk of hearing damage, no mosh pits. And, as we discovered upon arrival - free donuts!

So, you got me. This post isn’t about crime fiction or even writing. Tonight was a really special night and I wanted to share it. If my mind goes with old age, I hope the memory of singing Brandenburg Gate with my sweet little 7 year old and one of my favorite bands is the last memory to go.

Perfect parent? Me? Yeah-right!

by: Joelle Charbonneau

I am the worst parent in the world.  Okay, maybe that’s overstating.  I mean, I’ve only been parenting for a mere four and a half years.  There are lots of folks out there who have been doing this for a lot longer, which means they have had more opportunities to screw things up.  Right?

My son is four. He’s my first and after the scares he’s given me he might be my last.  Like any parent, I try to keep him safe.  The thing is, my best efforts to be a responsible parent seem to end in tragedy.  Kind of like the time I took him to the park and he wanted to go on the big slide.  He was a large nineteen-month-old, but the really big slide looked – well, really big.  It seemed irresponsible of me to let him go down alone.  I mean, what parent would let their kid go down a really big slide all alone when they were only 19 months? He could fall off or worse.  So, I did the only responsible, safe thing I could think of – I went down the side with him. 

And he broke his leg.

No, I didn’t fall on him, although in retrospect that would have made far more sense than what did happen.  My son squealed with delight, kicked his left foot out and caught the edge of the slide for just a moment – long enough for him to twist it perfectly and cause a tiny break. All because of my desire to have perfect parenting skills.

Since then the tot’s head had made impact with the corner of the coffee table, taken I don’t know how many dives to the concrete from his bike and had had his chin broken open because of a close encounter with metal steps on the playground slide.  (Hint...when metal steps and chin collide, metal steps win every time.)  Yep, despite my best efforts, I seem to be doing everything wrong.

Or am I? 

I admit that I have started to look for guidance for my parenting life in my publishing journey.  The first four manuscripts I wrote I did with careful consideration for the subject matter and the tone.  I tried to do them perfectly.  None of them sold.  In fact, despite my best “parenting” of those they weren’t and still aren’t publishable.  However, the fifth book I wrote I did without worrying about being perfect or even selling.  I sat down at the keyboard, let my goofiest ideas take over and had a blast.  I wrote for myself and forgot about the need to be perfect.  That book, as wild and wacky as it was, sold.  And somehow when I wasn’t looking I wrote a young adult novel without understanding any of the young adult novel rules.  It, too, sold.  I understood the rules, put them away and just wrote.  By doing so, things seemed to work out.

So, now that I’ve learned a lot of rules about parents, I guess I’m working on learning how to stop trying to be the perfect parent.  But I need help.  If you have any tricks you’d like to share about how to survive the parenting experience, please do!  I have a lot to learn, but the one thing I know is that like my books, the kid is going to have some rough patches and he’s going to have some fabulous moments and I hope that when I go back and look at my whole parenting story I will find that my son and I both enjoyed the ride.  

And in case you hadn't heard, our very own Dave White has joined the ranks of parenting.  Congratulations to the entire family.  I wish you all lots of sleep and great future!