In my second novel, Sorry I Missed You, there's an aging punk named Larry, who can't quite get over the fact that the scene as he once knew it has changed. He misses shows in friends' basements and non-orthopedic shoes and he's quite gatekeepy about the whole thing (but only because he cares so much and feels so adrift). Over the course of the book, he develops this dream of writing for Razorcake, a respected punk zine, and it becomes kind of a lifeline to him, a way to stay connected to the mus...