I went to see a metal show last night. Yes, I know I look so-not-metal in my profile picture, but I’m a kick-butt chick. I like loud guitars, growling bass lines, and drum beats so fast you could make a meringue with ’em.
A number of metal bands were on the bill at Cafe 611 and at the heart of the show was the thrash metal band Battlecross. The bands performed with passion of varying degrees. The Averist had a screamer that made me shiver. Exemptus had a stamina that had me howling. Xstrophy executed a divine Metallica cover that had us gathering around like the puppets they claimed we were.
The crowd, properly revved, was poised to go wild. Battlecross flew into action like a freakin’ autocannon. Hair flew. Fists pumped. Boots moshed. It was an insane yet beautifully orchestrated trip into chaos. When we came out on the other side, it was metal nirvana. All was peace and beer. Yep, there was beer—go figure.
Battlecross – a rare moment of calm
And this, my friends, is what writing should be. You grab your readers with passion, maybe a screamer, and you give your characters stamina. You lure the reader in with a plot that resonates so that they dance to the tune of your story. Then you bring out the autocannon: make hair fly, fists pump, and boots mosh. Don’t stop until bliss is achieved. Passion moves the world, you just have to find your flavor.
And in the afterglow, don’t forget the beer. 😉