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Advanced Praise:
“A smart, sexy, and fast-paced
story with a swoon-worthy love interest. Tone Deaf will be
music to your ears.” —Jessica Taylor, author of Wandering Wild
“Much like its hero, Tone Deaf’s flashy, rock-star exterior
surrounds a sweet, vulnerable soul that made it impossible to put down. It is
equal parts fun and touching, with a dash of humor and lot of heart. The
friendships, as well as the romance, have intense, believable chemistry, and
with a giant pitbull named Cuddles thrown in the mix, I was in love!” —Laura
Lee Anderson, author of Song of Summer
“Olivia Rivers has hit all the right notes with Tone Deaf.” —A. R.
Kahler, author of Pale Queen Rising and Shades of
Darkness
“The portrayal of Ali as Deaf is authentic and modern. She loves rock concerts
for the vibrations and sensory pull of the crowd. She prefers to sign but exasperatedly
reads the lips of people who talk fast or turn away as they talk. As Ali, Jace,
and the band tour amid Amber alerts, surprising emotional connections are
painfully forged and will resonate with young survivors of abuse, especially as
Ali takes small steps toward recovery. VERDICT This gripping
tale of survival has great appeal due to the parallel boy/girl narrative
structure, the portrayal of a Deaf character at home in the realm of music and
songwriting, and the overall pop culture tenor.” –School Library
Journal
EXCERPT:
I walk around the room, running my fingers over the
analog mixer, the power amp, the signal processor. I still remember my piano
teacher making me learn all the stage technology when I was little. I’d thrown
a fit; I wanted to play music, not learn about boring sound systems. But he’d
insisted, saying that part of respecting music was respecting the devices that
help create it.
I trace the ridges on one of the processor’s knobs.
The technology hasn’t changed much since I last performed, but now that I can
never be a part of it, the equipment feels cold and foreign under my
fingertips.
“You’re missing a monitoring system. How do you play
without one?”
The question slips out of my mouth before I can stop
it. I don’t really want to know, right? Right. I shouldn’t have a casual
conversation with Jace, not after what he did.
Jace raises his eyebrows and walks over to me, his
arms crossed firmly over his muscular chest. He pauses to pat a small analog
mixer, like it’s a dog needing attention, and then says, “Most of this
equipment belongs to the stadium, but we like to use our own tech for the
important stuff. Like the monitoring system. It’s already been packed up for
our next show.”
I take a step back. “So then you’re leaving soon.”
“Tomorrow afternoon, thankfully.”
I try not to wince. The way he looks at me with
disdain as he says “thankfully” makes me think I’m the one he’s happy to be
leaving behind, and not this city.
“When do I
get my money?” I demand.
Jace looks toward the tech crew guy, who’s standing
in the doorway. He’s busy taking another picture of us and pretending he isn’t
hearing a word we’re saying.
“I’ll give
you the check when we’re done with the tour,” Jace says.
“Forget the tour. You give me that money, and I
promise to not go to the media.”
He laughs in my face. “I don’t trust promises,
sweetheart.”
I feel like I’m going to explode. Sweetheart? Does
he really think he can call me condescending pet-names, after how he treated
me? But I guess he doesn’t think that. He knows it. After all, he’s the
one with the money and the leverage. I’m tempted to call this whole thing off
just to spite him.
Instead, I take in a deep breath and ask, “Why do
you use an analog mixer instead of a digital? Wouldn’t a digital mixer be
better for punk music? Especially with all your guitars?” If I have to endure
Jace’s presence, I might as well talk about something I’m interested in.
Jace blinks at me, and his sneer slowly melts into a
frown. “You know about PAs?” he asks slowly. I can tell by the way he hesitates
at the word “PA” that he’s trying to test my vocabulary.
I roll my eyes. “Of course I know sound systems.”
“How?”
“I’ve performed before.”
Jace lets out another scoff. “What venue would allow you to perform?”
“Carnegie.”
His eyes grow wide. “Carnegie Hall?”
I nod. There’s no way I can form any words right
now. I haven’t talked about my past for a long, long time, and there’s a
familiar stabbing pain in my gut as I mention Carnegie. I remember that night
so well—I’d been terrified but exhilarated as I performed with a group of
highly advanced piano students. It felt like every single eye in the audience
was glued to me as my little hands flew over the keys. Everyone was waiting for
me to screw up and prove that kids don’t belong in the most prestigious music
hall in NYC.
I performed perfectly. And that was the real start
of my music career.
Jace’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Tell me where
the ‘h’ note is on a keyboard.”
“There is no ‘h’ note.”
“Then tell me what an analog mixer does, as long as
you’re so interested in mine.”
I rattle off an explanation that leaves him looking
mildly impressed. “Great. So you’ve read a Wikipedia article about them.”
“I’m not making it up! I used to play.”
“Then prove it,” he demands.
I shake my head. “I’m deaf now. I don’t play
anymore.” I don’t say what else I’m thinking: that I haven’t touched an
instrument since the surgery permanently stole my hearing. That I don’t think I
could if I tried. That the pain of it would kill me.
Official "Tone Deaf"
Playlist
I've always needed
music to write. Whether it's punk rock or classical songs, I find music to be a
powerful source of inspiration, and I always keep my headphones plugged in
while I'm working on a story. While writing "Tone Deaf," I pretty
much lived off a steady diet of punk rock songs, alternative music, and lots of
caffeine to top it off. Music has an energy that's hard to capture in words,
but I did my absolute best to fuel my muse and replicate it.
I listened to hundreds
of songs while writing and editing "Tone Deaf," but only a few of
them had a lasting impression on the book. Check out the official playlist
below if you want to know which songs made the cut!
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