Wrestling and Writing: Bryan Bliss and Beck Rourke-Mooney in Conversation

BRM: The wrestling trainer I connected with told me that great gimmicks start with choosing what makes you quirky/unique and then exaggerating it. What would your gimmick be? 

BB: Otis in the WWE used to do the worm that led to a… bellyflop? It’s ridiculous but hilarious. And I think I’d want to do something like that—something absurd. That said, I think all good gimmicks are rooted in truth so maybe I’d do something with being an Episcopal priest. Like, sign of the cross into a suplex or something?  

BRM: I love Otis and was a big fan of the Heavy Machinery duo. “Steaks and weights!” Sign of the cross into a suplex sounds iconic.

BB:In terms of gimmicks, one thing I love about wrestling is storylines. But it does feel a bit “soap opera-y” at times. Do you care about the stories? Does that come through in your writing at all? 

BRM: I have a high tolerance for soap opera-y storylines, and the more outlandish the better. I loved the “Jason Jordan is my long-lost son” storyline for Kurt Angle. I think the story pulse of wrestling was part of my decision-making process throughout the novel. There are moments in the plot where I was mainly thinking, “What would be the most wrestling direction I could take this?” and then I beelined that way. I love campy. 

Would you rather be a heel or a face?

BB: I want to say heel. But I think probably face. In video games, I never make morally questionable choices. I think it’s good to be… good. So that’s the boring answer! But there is weird hope in being a face and it allows you to show up for kids in ways that a heel doesn’t. However, there are tons of examples of a heel breaking character to take care of a kid and I love that too.

A thing I think about all the time is how good versus evil plays out in wrestling in a way that’s easy for people to digest. But it does work on a binary, to an extent. One of the things I loved about your book was how you used wrestling to unpack identity in ways that (outside of D&D, perhaps) is something most people don’t realize. How does wrestling bring this conversation to the world in a different way?  

BRM: I got really into the idea that to a heel, the face is the bad guy. Which is something I loved about your book. How the Masked Man is a heel, and we as readers identify more with him because he’s the one Julie loves. But the Breathtaking One sort of reads as a heel to us even though he is the face. This was kind of an entry point for me in thinking about identity and how we can embrace aspects of ourselves even when they’re not championed by the external world. There’s that truism in wrestling that the only failure is to not receive any response from the audience. They may boo, they may cheer, but you just hope they react. It’s impossible to do anything new or courageous without potentially facing boos, despite hoping for cheers. If kids can take away the idea that it’s OK to generate a reaction in the world, maybe even preferred, then I think there’s a certain kind of playful risk-taking that becomes more possible. 

What is your favorite wrestling finisher? 

BB: I loved Honky Tonk Man’s “Shake Rattle and Roll” when I was a kid. But it’s tough to beat everything and anything the Rock does, including The People’s Elbow. It is perfect. And okay, so now I need to know your answer to this question.

BRM: So in the book Abigail Rose refers to the People’s Elbow as the most iconic finisher of all time, and I have to agree. But Bray Wyatt’s Sister Abigail had Exorcist vibes and brought a level of paranormal to the game that was pure magic. 

Scott, the yoga teacher Julie’s mom is seeing, feels like a foil to the wrestling fandom Julie inherited from her deceased father. In Mayhem, Bird’s mom is also falling headlong into practices meant to bring her into balance and peace while Bird dives down the wrestling rabbit hole. Why was this polarity so interesting to you in this book—the chaos of wrestling facing off against the peaceful surface of yoga retreat?

BB: I was going to ask you this same question! I think, for me, it was the ability to show how different people grieve. So wrestling is 100% valid, as is yoga or kale smoothies (even though I have Julie dunk on them a bit in the book.) I also wanted to dunk on Scott or the archetype of the “Zen-adjacent white dude” who is able to function in the world because of his privilege, if that makes sense. There’s something more honest about the chaos of wrestling. It’s rage, glory, and violence but in this controlled environment. Whereas sometimes the yoga-type of dude hides all of that or pretends it doesn’t exist and… that feels counterproductive. Anyway, I have thoughts on this obviously!

BRM: Why Orange Julius? I was obsessed with the iconic mall drink as a teen and even learned how to make a copycat in a blender at home.  

BB: Originally, this was going to be more of an explicit connection with her dad. But if I’m being completely honest, it’s because there’s an Orange Julius in the Mall of America! That said, I love that you know how to make a copycat of the O.J.!  

BRM: Julie mentions at one point that her mom was embarrassed about her dad’s obsession with the WWE. Until my book came out, my mom was a bit embarrassed about my obsession with professional wrestling. While I was drafting Mayhem, my critique partners often suggested certain characters weren’t sufficiently embarrassed by their potential association with wrestling fans and wrestlers. I visited a high school and during each period asked if anyone watched professional wrestling. Not a single kid would admit to it in front of the class. Which seemed ironic because it’s more popular than ever. But Julie doesn’t flinch when she chooses wrestling as her project subject. What do you make of this idea of being “embarrassed” about one of our favorite past times? 

BB: I was this kid. And I regret it. Majorly. One of the things I’ve told my kids is: don’t give up on the things you love. Naturally, this is challenging for teens. But my son—a total Pokémon addict—is better off for still loving that world even as a 17-year-old.

I’ve watched wrestling most of my life. It’s always been a part of how I interact with and interpret the world, which I realize is a rather bonkers thing to say. But as a really poor kid, an outcast, a guy who never, ever seemed to get a “Win,” it was a place where I felt grounded in something close to security. The heels were predictably bad. The faces, somebody you could root for with impunity (just don’t look most of them up later in life…). And it allowed you to subvert those expectations too—you could decide a particular blonde-haired face was a clown and then revel in rooting against them.

And so my question for you is: what’s it like to become a wrestling fan later in life?  

BRM: It’s such an unexpected delight! I was living a very isolated caregiver existence when I fell into the WWE Universe. My partner was suffering through a disabling brain injury. We started to watch wrestling because, like soap operas, the plots are simple and move slowly. To my surprise, I found it hilarious. Like slapstick comedy meets stunt show, with some hyperbolic drama thrown in for good measure. And it happened to be at the time of the WWE Women’s Evolution from the Divas to the Women’s Division. I got hooked, and the cathartic alternate reality lens of wrestling helped us both through that hard time. Like any great obsession, my love of wrestling just grew from there. There’s a sense of love and belonging you get from being a part of the wrestling fandom, and I think that’s honestly what drives my continued interest as much as the entertainment itself. 

BB: One thing I find fascinating is the resurgence of wrestling as this mainstream thing. I never expected this. But it has retained that strange brew of reality and potential—anything can happen—that gave me hope as a scraggly kid in a single room apartment in Chicago and, albeit somewhat differently, as a grown ass adult. Which may also be sad. But I’m fine with that.  

BRM: When I meet another wrestling fan in the wild, there’s nothing like it. I definitely sometimes get strange looks from people when they find out I watch, but at this point in my life, I’m comfortable in my strangeness. I lean in. That’s part of what I wanted to share with teens in the book—that embracing the things you love even if they’re unusual is the most direct route to happiness.

Do other people in your family watch with you? 

BB: No. No they do not. And I think there is a slight bewilderment about why I watch it, honestly. But growing up, this was the activity for me, my sister, and our cadre of cousins. We were a diverse group, from age to ethnicity to gender. But this was a common interest—you could call it an obsession. And that brought us together during times in our lives that weren’t necessarily easy, socially or as a family. Do I wish my kids, or my spouse enjoyed wrestling? Yes, if only to have a conversation partner. But I also wish they just understood the draw, the magic. Even when it’s ridiculous. 

BRM: It wasn’t until my mom read my book that she finally said she could see the appeal.

Who is your favorite wrestler? 

BB: Historically? Probably either Mr. Perfect or Randy “Macho Man” Savage. If we move a little further in time, I have come around to thinking that The Rock might be the best wrestler of all time. He was the ultimate show person, the best on the mic, and was legit hilarious. Currently, I love Otis on WWE, Britt Baker in AEW, and an independent wrestler named Effy… who always impresses and amuses me when I see him online or in person. What about you?

BRM: I’m a huge Asuka fan. I love when she spits green paint into her opponent’s face. I also think Charlotte Flair is the most impressive performer on the WWE roster, but when Becky Lynch became The Man I understood how promos are just as critical to a wrestler’s presence as any physical prowess. The Undertaker is iconic and never fails to give me goosebumps, and Seth Freaking Rollins is such an amazing heel. 

I don’t think we can end this conversation without talking about kayfabe, right? Julie falls into a deep rabbit hole when she decides to write her big senior paper on kayfabe—the willing suspension of disbelief.

BB: It makes this wrestling nerd’s heart swell when I see t-shirts or bumper stickers that reference kayfabe. For teens, I think it’s relevant because it helps us remember that reality, in some ways, is a construction. In pro wrestling, we know that what we’re watching is fake. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t important or, dare I say, even True. That’s capital T True. And if wrestling can be True in that way, if we can question reality and the construction and foundation of narratives that seem to be unbreakable, then what does that mean for the rest of society? Suddenly, the binaries are no longer the expectation setter. 

For your character Birdie, kayfabe is a way to explore identity. What are your thoughts? 

BRM: The moment I learned about kayfabe, I started to think about how it could relate to the idea of trying on and exploring different identities while growing up. But when I met Ethan Case from the Palmetto Wrestling Academy, he said that his training is just as much about how to step into your unique, quirky self as it is about doing a moonsault or an arm drag. I remember being a teen and trying on new identities, and I would call myself a phony before anyone else did. It was as if I believed there was a core, fully-developed self somewhere buried inside me, and if I tried something new or departed from that essence, I was somehow “fake.” But growing up (as a teen and an adult) and becoming a self is a process—in some ways a lifelong experiment and performance. I hope the book gives folks more permission to play without their own judgement, never mind others. 

Meet the authors

Beck Rourke-Mooney grew up outside Providence and has worked as clambake staff, a donut finisher, a ballot counting machine tester, a telemarketer, and most importantly, a middle school English teacher. When not writing contemporary YA novels, they procrasti-bake, write songs, and watch (depending on who you ask) either way too much or just enough television, including, of course, wrestling. She lives in upstate New York.

Bryan Bliss is the author of the National Book Award longlist title We’ll Fly Away as well as Thoughts & Prayers, Meet Me Here, and No Parking at the End Times. He is an Episcopal priest and a creative writing teacher, and he holds master’s degrees in theology and fiction. His nonfiction has been published in Image Journal along with various other newspapers, magazines, and blogs. He lives with his family in St. Paul, Minnesota.

About We Are Mayhem

Filled with messy, complicated characters, We Are Mayhem is a debut YA novel about finding your strength, embracing your weird, and being who you truly are – no matter what.

When Birdie’s parents move the family from their gated New Jersey community to the Catskills, Birdie thinks life as she knows it is once again—just like it was when she quit gymnastics—completely over. But when Birdie’s friends ditch her during a dare gone wrong, she finds herself staring down the barrel of a shotgun wielded by Mad Mabel the Mother of Mayhem, and Birdie strikes a deal with Mabel to work off her crime.

Abigail Rose, Mabel’s granddaughter, is convinced that Birdie—whose big, strong arms have always felt like the bane of her existence — is destined to help pull her family’s male-dominated indie wrestling promotion in a more feminist direction.

With no way to return to or escape her past and no clear course into her future, Birdie has to find a way to somehow make her new town a home. But if Birdie is going to be the future of Mayhem, she first has to find a way to embrace who she is – no matter the cost.

ISBN-13: 9781250836595
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends
Publication date: 03/19/2024
Age Range: 14 – 18 Years

About Dispatches from Parts Unknown

“The feel-good novel of the year.” —ALA Booklist (starred review)

Julie knows it’s unusual that a professional wrestler runs a constant commentary on her life that only she can hear. But grief can be awfully funny sometimes. National Book Award nominee Bryan Bliss delivers a thought-provoking, one-of-a-kind novel about how to tread the line between moving on and holding on. Dispatches from Parts Unknown is for fans of David Arnold, Nina LaCour, and You’ve Reached Sam. 

Ever since her dad died three years ago, Julie has been surviving more than thriving. And surviving is sneaking into her parents’ closet when her mom is out, since it’s the only place that still sometimes smells like her dad. It’s roaming around the Mall of America. It’s pulling out the box of her dad’s VHS tapes, recordings of his favorite vintage professional wrestling matches.

And it’s hearing the voice of the Masked Man in her head, running a commentary of her life.

It’s embarrassing, really. Sure, he was her dad’s favorite wrestler, but that doesn’t mean she wants him in her head.

As Julie finally starts to come out of the haze of grief, maybe she’ll finally figure out why that voice is there, and how to let it go.

ISBN-13: 9780062962270
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication date: 05/07/2024
Age Range: 13 – 17 Years

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