Literally nobody likes to travel for the holidays
And yet, here I go
Did you miss my appearance on the Wrong Place, Write Crime podcast? I’m sure it was great. I can’t actually listen to my own podcast appearances for the most part, because I do not like listening to myself speak. You know how your recorded voice sounds different from the way you hear yourself? Well, I’d rather live with the illusion, is what I’m saying.
Anyway, Frank and I had a great little convo that day, which is why I have so much confidence in the quality of the finished product. Especially since Frank promised to edit me in such a way that I sounded like less of an idiot.
It’s finally here—the official How I’m Spending My Afterlife playlist!
Back in high school, a girlfriend once broke up with me with the complaint, “all you ever talk about is music.” At the time, I couldn’t understand why that would be a problem. I’ve developed other interests since then, but I’m still a little obsessed with (and obsessive about) music. I usually write with music on, and I’ll often use it to stoke the specific moods or feelings I’m hoping to get down on the page.
This playlist is not a list of songs I listened to while writing How I’m Spending My Afterlife. That would be very boring for you, the reader, because it’s more about me creating the environment I needed in order to be creative, and bears little resemblance to the novel you (probably) read. Also, that playlist would be way too long: everyone knows the optimal length for a playlist is something that would fit on an old cassette tape (so roughly 30, 60, 45 or 90 minutes. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. It’s science. Look it up). Instead, think of it more as an official soundtrack for the book.
Tusk — Fleetwood Mac
Lazy Eye — Silversun Pickups
Circadian Rhythm — Son Volt
Into the Mystic — Van Morrison
Borneo — Firewater
Ain’t No Grave — Johnny Cash
Scene of a Perfect Crime — Concrete Blonde
A Good Man — Uncle Green
The Green Green Grass — American Analog Set
You Get What You Deserve — Big Star
Run With the $ — Lita Ford
Catch Hell Blues — The White Stripes
Of course, who wants to just read about a playlist? You have to be able to listen to it too, right? Well, unless you’re unable to access both Apple Music and YouTube, I’ve got you covered (I don’t have a Spotify subscription; we all make our choices).
(Note: I tried to avoid spoilers here, but depending on what you consider a “spoiler” to be, I can’t promise I was totally successful.)
Lazy Eye — Silversun Pickups / Circadian Rhythm — Son Volt / The Green Green Grass — American Analog Set
The book takes place in Florida, where I spent 26 years of my life. It’s the place I know better than any other. I moved away seven years ago, but there are a few songs that can bring me back there and make me feel as if I never left. These three songs aren’t about Florida—they’re songs that, to me, sound like Florida. When I hear them, all I have to do is close my eyes and I’m once again under the enormous, cloudless Florida sky, the sunshine bright enough to make my teeth hurt. Maybe I’m barreling along some two-lane back-country highway that bisects an endless prairie of palmetto scrubs. Or maybe I’m just trying to slog my way through the wooly summertime air as I traverse the ripples of heat radiating from the Publix parking lot. These songs are like sonic postcards of my old home. I don’t know why.
Tusk — Fleetwood Mac
I’ve always loved the way this song builds. It starts with that unadorned, driving drumbeat, a beat that immediately makes us a promise—this one will be worth the time we give it. Then, gradually, more and more layers stack on top of it, all swirling and crashing against each other in that final frenetic minute to create an exhilarating feeling of sensory overload. I always imagine this song as the musical representation of what’s happening in Alton’s head, from the day he begins to implement his simple little plan all the way until the moment it completely flips around on him.
Into the Mystic — Van Morrison
This is the only song on this list that’s actually mentioned in the book. It was Alton and Nicole’s wedding song, a fact she recalls while she’s trying to process her feelings after his abrupt disappearance. It’s a signifier of a happier time for them both, one before either knew the other well enough to understand exactly what they were getting themselves into.
Borneo — Firewater
Who hasn’t longed—even just for a moment—to ditch the routines and responsibilities of their workaday life and trade it all in for a simpler life in a jungle paradise? Most of us know better than to act on that impulse, but Alton sets himself apart by actually trying to follow through. (Of course, he’s running from a lot more than most of the rest of us would be.) This is such a fun song—I can totally picture Alton blasting it through the speakers of his Porsche Boxster as he drives down to the marina to take his boat out for that one final time.
Ain’t No Grave — Johnny Cash
“There ain’t no grave can hold my body down,” Cash rasps, and only a fool wouldn’t believe him. That’s exactly the kind of determination that Alton has to draw upon to paddle his kayak through the rough waters, digging into the chop with each stroke, slowly dragging himself away from his burning boat and toward the safety of shore.
Scene of a Perfect Crime — Concrete Blonde
Alton just can’t resist revisiting the scene of his crime, and this is where his problems really start. But this song is included here for more than its title. Johnette Napolitano’s lyrics explore feelings of regret and (possibly misplaced) nostalgia that could easily come from either Alton or Nicole in a more reflective moment: “Whatever became of our sweet blind love / As long as we could be together it was more than enough / Now we're all grown up and we need so much / I never knew that the price would go up as such.”
A Good Man — Uncle Green
This one appears not to be streamable anywhere, and I couldn’t find it on YouTube, so it’s not on either of the lists I linked to earlier. You’ll just have to rely on my description. (As an aside: hooray for physical media!) A southern-rock boogie-shuffle from a long-forgotten college-radio band, its theme of self-delusion is also a central theme of the book. We all tell ourselves lies about who we are, at least sometimes. Usually, they’re tame or insignificant enough. But Alton’s entire understanding of who he is rests on these fabrications. His inability to reconcile his self-image with the sudden realization of how the people in his life saw him is the driving force behind most of his decisions in this story.
You Get What You Deserve — Big Star
It’s a nice thought, but in my experience, it isn't true—we don’t live in a just universe. Both Alton and Nicole would probably argue that Alton does not, in fact, ultimately get what he deserves—but then again, they're approaching the question from almost diametrically opposed starting points. (This is also one of my favorite songs from the 1970s; I’ve put it on a lot of playlists over the years.)
Run With the $ — Lita Ford
I was a metalhead back in high school, and while Lita Ford could be a little light for my tastes at the time, I always loved this song. A no-nonsense banger with a straightforward relationship to the themes of this novel, this ode to the glamour of a (successful) life on the run kicks the door down with the opening chord and never lets up.
Catch Hell Blues — The White Stripes
“If you go looking for hot water, don’t act shocked when you get burned a bit,” Jack White mumbles in the opening moments of this track. Words Alton might have done well to consider. I was well into the second draft of How I’m Spending My Afterlife when I finally realized my dream of relocating from Florida to San Francisco. I did the entire 2800-mile drive in less than three and a half days. This was one of the albums I listened to repeatedly along the way, my eyes on the road and my mind on the plot holes I knew I needed to fix. This song in particular has been closely linked with both the book and that trip ever since.
Anyway, hope you dig it.
What I’ve Been Reading
Tampa Bay Noir, edited by Colette Bancroft
I’ll be honest, I resisted reading this anthology for a while (it’s been out for over a year) because I was pissed that I never got the chance to get a story in it. This one is part of a long-running series of anthologies from Akashic Books that combines two things I’m very much into: noir fiction, and studies of place. Each title focuses on the seamier side of a specific city, state, or region, with stories from writers who have a connection to the places they’re writing about. I’ve only read sixteen (out of over a hundred) of these, because I feel like I get more out of them if I know the setting at least somewhat. And having lived there for 22 years, I feel like I know Tampa Bay pretty darn well.
There were a number of strong stories in this anthology—one was even selected for the annual Best American Mystery & Suspense 2021 anthology, though it wasn’t the best one in the book (that was editor Bancroft’s entry)—but like several other Akashic Noir volumes I’ve read, it suffers a bit from inconsistency. Not so much that I put it down before finishing, but enough to notice. But that’s just how anthologies work most of the time, isn’t it? You roll the dice and you take your chances.
Anyway, if this sounds like something you might be into, here’s how I’d rank all sixteen Akashic Noir titles I’ve read. The top four are especially strong.
Lone Star Noir
Santa Cruz Noir
Cape Cod Noir
Berkeley Noir
Detroit Noir
San Francisco Noir
Indian Country Noir
New Orleans Noir
Tampa Bay Noir
London Noir
Dublin Noir
Kingston Noir
Oakland Noir
Chicago Noir
Las Vegas Noir
Miami Noir
Undone Valley, by William R. Soldan
Soldan specializes in grit lit set in the decaying industrial towns of the Midwest. He writes stark stories about hard characters. I’m only about halfway through this, his first novel (he’s got three story collections and a poetry collection out as well), and I’m definitely digging it—strong Donald Ray Pollack vibes from this one for sure.
It seriously takes THAT LONG to see this country?
Don’t you love traveling for the holidays? Yeah, me neither. In fact, I don’t generally like the act of traveling at all—but if I want to spend time in places that aren’t San Francisco, I have to travel to get to them, so I’m willing to put up with it. Usually around this time of year, I’m heading to either the Carolinas to see my family, or to Chicago to see the in-laws. This year, it’s the latter, and just to throw an extra spanner in the works, we’ve decided to take a train instead of flying. It’s going to be two and a half days each way.
Two. And a half. Days. EACH WAY.
Now, I’ve never done anything like this—I think the longest train ride I’ve ever taken was three hours or so, in Romania—so I’m not sure if I should be looking forward to it or dreading it. Either way, I’ll be taking plenty of pictures, so if you have any interest, you should check out my Instagram for updates.
Until next time. Assuming I survive the trip, that is.