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ABRAMS BOOKS - Jon Skovron

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134 pages

English

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Music is in Sammys blood. His grandfather was a jazz musician, and Sammys indie rock band could be huge one dayif they dont self-destruct first. Winning the upcoming Battle of the Bands would justify all their compromises and reassure Sammy that his lifes dream could become a reality. But practices are hard to schedule when Sammys grandfather is sick and getting worse, his mother is too busy to help either of them, and his best friend may want to be his girlfriend. Told in a voice thats honest and wry, Struts & Frets will resonate not only with teenage musicians but also with anyone who ever sat up all night listening to a favorite album, wondering if theyd ever find their place in the world.

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Publié par	ABRAMS BOOKS
Date de parution	05 août 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781613120293
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0330€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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PUBLISHER S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Skovron, Jon. Struts and frets / by Jon Skovron. p. cm. Summary: Sammy wants to be a musician, as was his grandfather, but while the band he is in is self-destructing, Sammy is too distracted by his grandfather s decline and his confused feelings about his best friend to fix it-and his mother stays too busy to help. ISBN 978-0-8109-4174-8 [1. Bands (Music)-Fiction. 2. Self-confidence-Fiction. 3. Interpersonal relations-Fiction. 4. Grandfathers-Fiction. 5. Single-parent families-Fiction. 6. Columbus (Ohio)-Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.S628393Str 2009 [Fic]-dc22 2008045925
Text copyright 2009 Jon Skovron
Book design by Chad W. Beckerman
Pages 35 and 281: I m Beginning to See the Light -Words and Music by Don George, Johnny Hodges, Duke Ellington and Harry James. Copyright 1944 Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Chappell Co. and Ricki Music Company in the U.S.A. Copyright renewed 1959. All Rights on behalf of Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC Administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 8 Music Square West, Nashville, TN 37203. Used by permission. All Rights on behalf of Ricki Music Company Administered by WB Music Corp. Rights for the world outside the U.S.A. Administered by Chappell Co. Used by permission from ALFRED PUBLISHING CO., INC International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved.
Published in 2009 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher. Amulet Books and Amulet Paperbacks are registered trademarks of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.
Printed and bound in U.S.A. 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Amulet Books are available at special discounts when purchased in quantity for premiums and promotions as well as fundraising or educational use. Special editions can also be created to specific-ation. For details, contact specialmarkets@abramsbooks.com or the address below.

1 Idiots Rule
2 Communist Daughter
3 Someday you will Be Loved
4 Wake Up
5 Only Shallow
6 How High the Moon
7 I Just Wanna Get Along
8 Monkey Gone to Heaven
9 Caring Is Creepy
10 Heaven t Got a Clue
11 Yerself Is Steam
12 Taste the Pain
13 Addicted to Fame
14 Everything in Its Right Place
15 Sins of the Father
16 I Hate Rock n Roll
17 The Moon and Antarctica
18 So Far I Have Not Found a Science
Sammy s Rock and Jazz Mashup Playlist
Acknowledgments
Reason. Or Tragedy of Wisdom. We hadn t decided yet. I liked Reason because it said how much it sucked to be the only thoughtful person in a crazy world. But our frontman, Joe, liked Wisdom because, he said:
It just sounds cooler!
We rehearsed at the Parks and Rec building downtown. It was an old dance studio, with slick wooden floors and tall mirrors on every wall, but I was pretty sure that no one had danced there for a long time. The mirrors were all smudged and cracked. The balance barre screwed into one wall was barely holding on, and only one flickering fluorescent light worked. The whole place felt like an abandoned set from one of those old 80s dance movies my mom liked to watch.
I had talked about the band name before rehearsal with Rick the bassist and TJ the drummer, and we had all agreed that Reason made more sense. But they didn t say anything now because they were afraid to piss off Joe.
Okay, okay. I was afraid to piss off Joe too. He was one of those guys who started shaving in junior high. He was almost two feet taller than Rick and me. He was about the same height as TJ, but TJ was a lanky, stooped hipster boy and Joe was a massive, pierced, steel-toe-boot-wearing, leather-and-all-the-crazy-spikes metal dude. And he wasn t one of those Oh, once you get to know him, he s such a softie kind of guys. No, once you got to know him, you realized that deep down, he was even scarier.
The problem was that even though I was scared of Joe, I had a hard time keeping my mouth shut. So I said, But what does that even mean? Tragedy of Wisdom ? It s like, doesn t it suck to understand things? Who thinks that? And we may be a lot of things, but we re definitely not wise.
Hey, speak for yourself, said Rick, joking to lighten the mood. Nobody would mistake Rick for being wise. He was such a dude . People who weren t his friend might have called him a burnout. The kind of guy who had a permanent dazed expression and bed head.
Right, I said, like huffing Dust-Off is really wise.
Ouch, mumbled TJ.
Only that one time, said Rick. Just to see if it worked.
You really did that? asked TJ as he brushed aside his mop of brown hair. He was always doing that. Pretty much anytime I talk about him, imagine him doing that. Didn t you know that it can freeze your brain?
Not at the time, of course, said Rick.
You totally knew, I said. Because I told you right before you did it.
Oh. Rick shrugged. Well, you know I kinda tune you out a lot, Sammy, so I probably just missed it.
You tune him out too? said TJ. Oh, good. I was worried that I was the only one.
Ha-ha, I said. Just wait until you re about to step off a cliff or something and I m trying to warn you but-
SHUT UP, YOU IDIOTS!
Joe.
Listen, this isn t some kind of pukey, whiny, emo band! he said. This is hardcore! He illustrated his point by kicking the metal trash can across the room. It hit the far wall with a sharp clang, and fast-food wrappers and a half-full drink cup spilled out onto the floor. He waited for a minute in silence, looming over us, with his big, meaty fists clenched and ready.
It can t sound like some faggot-ass wannabe shit, he said. It has to sound cool! We have to be cool! And until I can get a real band who actually are cool, the three of you are just going to have to try really hard to seem cool. He paced back and forth in front of us like a rhino looking for a reason to charge. Any problems with that?
No one said anything.
Well? he said. Then he stopped directly in front of me and glared.
No, Joe, I said, feeling like the punk bitch he thought I was. No problems.
Don t forget, said Joe, starting to pace again. I m the one who started this band. I m the one who knows the guy who runs this Parks and Rec building and gets us this killer rehearsal space. I m the one who scored the practice drum kit so TJ doesn t have to lug his own kit down here all the time. He stopped pacing directly in front of me again, but right up close this time. His breath smelled like rotten jalape o peppers. I m the one, he said, who could kick the shit out of all three of you at once.
Right, Joe, I said, hating myself. Tragedy of Wisdom it is.
Well, that sucked, I said.
What sucked? asked Rick.
Rick and I were on our way home after rehearsal in my clanking old gas-guzzling powder-blue Buick, which we had dubbed the Boat. I had bought the Boat off of a neighbor for four hundred dollars when I turned sixteen and crashed it a week later. But those old 1970s tanks were tough. With some coat hangers and duct tape to keep the headlights in place and the hood down, it worked just fine. It looked and sounded like a rolling scrap heap, but it still got me anywhere I wanted to go. That was important, because buses in Columbus, Ohio, were totally useless and my mom worked so much I could almost never count on her to give me a ride anywhere.
Rick lived down the street from me, so I always gave him a ride home after rehearsal. We d known each other since kindergarten, and as much as we ragged on each other, we d always been friends and we always would be.
What do you mean, what sucked? I asked him. Joe got his way. Again.
It s not a big deal, said Rick. You get too worked up about that kind of shit.
It s the name of the band! I said. It s the first thing people are going to know about us, the first thing they re going to hear when we go onstage!
Who cares? said Rick. Look, you still get to play guitar. You still get to write all the songs. Joe isn t going to write them, that s for sure. He doesn t even know how to play an instrument. So let him have the stupid name. It ll probably be his only real contribution.
Other than his singing, I said darkly.
His grunting, corrected Rick.
Like an ox in heat, I said.
Hey, man, he said with a grin. That s how they do it hardcore .
Well, I said, at least it s better than his first name suggestion.
Yeah . . . what was it again?
Blubber Glove.
Oh, right, said Rick. Pretty much anything would be good compared to that.
Rick and I lived in German Village, a neighborhood just outside downtown that still had brick streets and narrow sidewalks like they did in the early 1900s. All the houses were old and small and packed in tightly together. It was pretty much the closest thing to urban you could get in a city like Columbus. It was getting kind of trendy, and my mom and I were probably the poorest people on our block, but it was where a lot of the creative types in town lived and there were lots of coffee shops and stores within walking distance. There wasn t really anywhere else in Columbus that I would ve rather lived. Not like that s saying much. Columbus was pretty dull. Everyone who liked sports was really into OSU football, and pretty much everyone was into sports. Except freaks like me, I guess.
I dropped Rick off at his house, then drove home. We lived in a little brick townhouse. It was small, but it was enough for just me and my mom. It was dark and empty when I got inside because it was only seven and my mom worked until eight. I was supposed to start homework as soon as I g