Please forgive the departures from convention, but I hope readers will still find a Noir feel to it, set in a near future where the world has started to spin out of control, with lots of wisecracks and Noir-esque turns of phrase. I've strayed away from the usual twisting-plot detective procedural in LA or New York in favor of spy action and car chases in Seattle.
Still has dicks, though, by which I mean detectives. And also penises. And also jerks. Four letters to the word, but so much meaning.
In addition to being a love letter to Seattle, my story is a coded love letter to its music scene and fans. Buried in the words of my story are a whole bunch of Easter-egg references to songs by Western Washington musical artists over various decades.
Some of the references, like Pearl Jam's "Better Man" or Heart's "These Dreams," may seem obvious. Others are from more obscure artists that don't have much national recognition, but even in those cases the song would be known to most fans of the band: for example, not everyone knows Bikini Kill, but everyone who knows Bikini Kill knows "Rebel Girl."
Here are the first few references, taking things up to my initial encounter with Agent Flynn. And yes, all of these are referenced (mostly by song title) in the text.
Sir Mix-A-Lot. “Seattle Ain’t Bullshittin’.” Mack Daddy, Def American, 1992.
Sleater-Kinney. “No Cities to Love.” No Cities to Love, Sub Pop, 2015.
Harvey Danger. “Flagpole Sitta.” Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone?, Arena Rock Recording Company, 1997.
(Bit of an error on including Sweaty Nipples. They played in Seattle frequently enough that I thought they were a local band until just now. They're actually from Portland. Still a good, underappreciated band, though).
