by Pat Benatar with Patsi Bale Cox. $25.99; HarperCollins; 256 pages

See a Little Light: The Trail of Rage and Melody

by Bob Mould and Michael Azerrad. $24.99; Hachette Book Group; 416 pages

Pat Benatar's autobiography was not a book I was anticipating. As the rock 'n roll vixen of the '80s, I did have to admit that she had THE voice (four octaves) and a clutch of hits that straight women and the LGBT audience could embrace when it mattered most ("Treat Me Right," "We Belong," "You Better Run"). What I didn't know was how much of a pioneer she was for everything that came in her wake, or that she was a hell of a lot more than her image or VH-1 ever revealed. Between a Heart... is a juicy action-packed odyssey deluxe about pursuing dreams, fighting the status quo (sexism, politics, commercialism), changing the game, being a supreme bitch (when necessary) and having it your way.

Starting as an unhappily married bank manager in South Carolina, Benatar (born Patricia Mae Ardrzejewski) dumped her dead-end life, high-tailed it to Manhattan and landed a recording contract at Chrysalis Records (home of Blondie). During the sessions that produced her first album and its breakout single ("Heartbreaker," 1979), she connected with guitarist Neil Giraldo artistically as well as romantically (by the grace of Linda Blair—yes, THAT Linda Blair) and the rest is history.

Giraldo and Benatar forged a partnership/sound/chemistry that changed rock but in such a way that they never got the credit they deserved until this book. Benatar was the first woman on MTV (her video for "You Better Run" aired right after The Buggles' "Video Killed the Radio Star" and was so confrontational, fiery and unusual that it changed video and how we saw women forever); the first headlining solo arena-rock goddess (Stevie Nicks didn't go solo until 1981 while Benatar hit in 1980, opening the floodgates for her, Tina, Cyndi, Madonna and GaGa); the first consistent multiple female Grammy winner in the rock category (four wins, eight nominations); and one of the first outspoken challengers of how she was presented or "sold."

Between the glamour (getting a good luck wish from Frank Sinatra), hilarious bits of trivia (how she created her stage look) and constant struggles, Between A Rock is a fairy tale with a happy ending.

If ever there was a book that made me smile and take heart, this was certainly the one. It hardly matters if Benatar is a favorite (she wasn't for me until I read this book, dug up her old records and embraced her whole sound and story) or if you like '80s rock. This book is about forging ahead and making dreams happen—and, yes, it still matters.

The cover image of Bob Mould's autobiography slyly contradicts the book's title. "The Trail of Rage and Melody" is printed right next to a serene-looking Mould and the vibe from that image is of—brace yourself—cuddliness. It threw me for a loop, especially since (at a solo show here last year) he mentioned that writing the book was a painful process of taking ownership of his shitty behavior.

So yeah, there are rage, dysfunction, bitterness and misery, but there's also a great deal of growth, personal evolution and fun on these pages. As an out rocker whose creativity, music and output has spanned three eras of rock, Mould's story is unique in that he's managed to remain relevant and consistently successful for more than 30 years. Sir Elton John may have been around longer and evolved far more in the public eye, but Mould's "human revolution" was largely fought where it's hardest to do battle—alone where no one can see it.

Mould first hit in the late '70s with the Minneapolis punk band Husker Du (which also included out rocker and supposed sparring partner Grant Hart). That Husker emerged out of a Midwest scene that not only included punk but everything else at once (including the emergence of Prince, Morris Day, Terry Lewis and Jimmy Jam) is only an element of the story. Through the whirlwind of the punk rage, cross-country tours in beat-up vans, crap show places/bars, violent crowds and little cash, Mould was already knee-deep in his issues: He was gay, didn't like his body and was aware that his family was steeped in toxicity.

That toxicity bled into all areas of his life and manifested as a reliance on alcohol, smoke, speed, steroids and failed relationships. By the time Husker Du imploded and Mould's short-lived Sugar hit and crashed, he started making his turnaround.

That's where the book morphs into an entirely different animal. He came out officially (though he was never really closeted), made a stronger effort in a second long-term relationship, got therapy, cleaned up, worked out and reached out for new artistic adventures (writing for pro-wrestling and his move into trance/techno music). This is not to say that he got soft—far from it. He just mustered being a better Bob Mould, which is achievement enough.

However, Trail is far from a Hallmark card of redemption and there's plenty here for everyone. There are a careening first-person history of the punk years); grunge; a parade of unexpected personalities (e.g., Boy George, William Burroughs, Michael Lucas and Hulk Hogan); the '80s AIDS crisis; dealings with rock 'n roll as a corporate business; the trickiness of negotiating a dysfunctional family and/or lovers; and the evolution of a man who dares to know himself and reach for a better edition. Some of it is hilarious (Mould moving to Soho and jumping into gay life for the first time at 37), some of it heartbreaking (the loss of his first lover), some of it amusing (Joey Ramone meeting Pete Townshend and squealing like a wet preteen), and a lot of it is awe-inspiring. Trail is one hell of a journey and an adventure of a life.