See what the reviewers are saying:
"The format of this book is perfect for the writing it highlights"
--Dawn, She is Too Fond of Books
"Gottfried’s writing style is easy and relaxed, so the reader’s focus is exactly where it is supposed to be: the characters.
Even if you aren’t familiar with Trevor Wolff and ShapeShifter, you can enjoy this introduction to the band. The fly-on-the-wall vantage point you get in this book will make you feel like you’re hanging out with the guys on tour, stopping over at the Voss house to hang out and laughing it up with them as they experience life."
-- JM, Down Under Reviews
"...providing 100 pages of sheer entertainment, laugh-out-loud moments, and pure joy. Whether readers are fans of the hair bands of the 1980s, heavy metal or not, the plight of these boys on the road will have readers shaking their heads or laughing right out of their chairs."
-- Serena Augusto-Cox, DC Literature Examiner
"This volume may be difficult to digest if you’re not familiar with Susan’s work. It has to be taken in context, because the stories in the book don’t hang together in a cohesive whole, but again, that’s not their function. Their mission is to fill in some blanks, give you a taste of hanging with the band, and establishing Susan Helene Gottfried as a born storyteller with a romping, evocative, insider’s look at what it’s like to say, 'I’m with the band.' "
--Netta, Word Webbing
"...the short pieces are the perfect length and you get so much insight into the characters in each and every one...Trevor is every girls bad band boy, I swear I felt like I was 17 again and wanting to be a groupie."
-- Amy, Chic Book Reviews
"...this is like a classic case of luring and baiting- in a GOOD way! People will read Shapeshifter: The Demo Tapes, Year 1 and be left hungry for the full story that Gottfried has to tell on the pages of Trevor's Song when it releases."
--RebekahC, Bookish Mom Reviews
"Each scene works on its own as a brief snapshot from a larger work. The Demo Tapes delivers to readers what a real demo tape does for musicians. Susan shows us her chops. Her world of Riverview and ShapeShifter, the musicians, the road crew, the family relationships, the romantic entanglements - they're as real to me as the stubble on a tour bus morning."
--Julia, A Piece of My Mind
"The Demo Tapes is one of those rare books that I read twice, back to back, one reading immediately following the other. I only do that with books whose fictional world -- whose characters -- I'm reluctant to leave."
-- Author Thomma Lyn Grindstaff
ShapeShifter: The Demo Tapes – Year 1
by Susan Helene Gottfried
This collection is based on previously web-published content.
Content has been selected and edited by the author for
a print-based readership.
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008 by Susan Helene Gottfried
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Contents:
Introduction
Meeting Trevor
The Time Before Dinner
Quitting
Dedication
Flags
The Strand
Late-Night Load Out
Smoke Break
Soy Sauce
Death by Cheese
Eric’s Flu
Green Hair Week
Backstage Party
Buying Chicken
Mitchell’s Desk
Hearts
New Year’s Eve in Dallas
Rain
Inspiration
Kerri’s Craving
Conclusion
Introduction
I decided to collect the fiction about my band ShapeShifter and their bass player, Trevor Wolff, into one volume for two main reasons: First, I'm seeing more and more of my blog's readers and my own fans, who I lovingly call groupies, clamoring to see Trevor's Song, my first novel, in print. And second, this stuff is a lot of fun, but searching a blog or an index on my website isn't. With this collection, you can catch up on what you might have missed during my first year of blogging: April 2006 through April 2007. You can also revisit old friends -- or just savor the fact that everything is now in chronological order.
If you compare these outtakes to what's on the blog, you'll notice subtle differences. In other words: I've cleaned up the writing. Usually, the outtakes that make it onto my blog are written quickly and gone over once, maybe twice. They're supposed to be rough; these were written only to familiarize you with my fictional world so that when Trevor's Song does finally hit bookstore shelves, you'll be hooked. Spending too much time on an outtake that was never meant to go anywhere but on the blog takes away from my time creating novels and searching for that elusive publication deal.
Another benefit to this collection, I think you'll find, is the short introductions I've written for each outtake or related grouping. Also, as I mentioned earlier, this volume is organized by chronology, not by original post date. Even if you have been along since the beginning, by reading them in this order, you'll get a better feel for what happened when and how everything fits together.
I know you're curious where the idea of the Demo Tapes came from. That's easy. I write about rock and roll. These outtakes were written (or posted) as a way to sell myself, very much like a band's demo tape does. While a band's demo sometimes has songs that make it onto the debut album, I can assure you that none of these outtakes are reproduced in Trevor's Song.
So sit back, put your feet up, and check out the outtakes that made the first year of West of Mars -- the Meet and Greet what it was. If you were part of any of it, thanks. If you're just joining up now, good for you. As Trevor says, you can never have enough groupies.
Meeting Trevor
Before there could be a band named ShapeShifter, Mitchell Voss and Trevor Wolff had to meet. It took Mitchell's sister Amy and her rebellious phase to introduce Trevor to the Voss household.
Trevor later said that Amy was the only girl he ever dated but didn't sleep with. She's also the only person he ever dumped for another guy -- Mitchell. On the day in question, though, none of them knew what was to come. It's probably better this way.
Here you go: Meeting Trevor. First posted July 26, 2006.
Mitchell watched from the couch, half-amused, as Amy pleaded her case on the other side of the family room. So far, she wasn't doing so hot.
"Mom, it's just a movie!"
"Not with a boy we haven't met yet, Amy," their mother said placidly. Mitchell watched her more than Amy, actually, fascinated by the way she got calmer the more Amy whined. He wished Amy would shut up; she was getting as bad as Beth. Boys, boys, boys. That was getting to be all they cared about.
He shook his head and tossed his baseball into the air, catching it so easily, he didn't even have to think about it. There was more to life than boys.
Baseball, for example.
And, he thought, girls. He told himself to dim the grin; if Amy or Ma saw it, they'd think he was laughing at them. Then they'd get pissed and throw him out of the room.
"If you drive me there, you can meet him then," Amy tried.
"How's he getting there?"
Amy looked down at the carpet and twisted her shoulders back and forth. Mitchell's grin grew; this was going to be good. "He just said he'd meet me out front, and if he wasn't there five minutes before the movie starts, it's not his fault and we'll try another time."
Mitchell sat up and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Ma was going to hate that. She didn't go in for situations that involved if unless they were science experiments. He tossed the baseball some more.
Sure enough, Ma was frowning. "That doesn't sound like a dependable young man," she said. She gave Amy one of those long looks down her nose, the kind that made all of them squirm. Amy folded her arms behind her back and kept staring at the carpet, her shoulders twisting as she fidgeted.
"Amy, are you sure this is the sort of boy you want to be with?" The question was gentle, which surprised Mitchell enough that he bobbled the ball. Ma should have been ready for some strong action. The fact that she wasn't was almost a let-down.
Amy crossed her arms over her chest and scowled as she nodded. Mitchell kept quiet. Things were about to get good; getting kicked out now would not be smart.
"Why?" Ma asked and folded her hands over her knees, like she did when she really wanted to listen.
Amy shrugged. "'Cause he's neat. He's different from the other boys. He's not a loser like Pipsqueak." She jerked her chin at him.
"Hey!" he said and clapped a hand over his mouth, just in case. One word could be enough to remind Ma he was here -- but shouldn't be.
"Leave your brother out of this," Ma said in that same calm voice, but Mitchell noticed her eye twitching. He shot her a grateful look, knowing it wasn't enough to calm her rising temper. He did it anyway; Ma liked it when he was polite.
"I will not drive you to the movies to meet some young man who may or may not be there," Ma said and stood up, ready to deliver the rest of the judge's verdict. Mitchell bit back another smile, thinking that social studies had been good for something more than a place to sit and daydream.
"If you want to go, find your own way there."
Ma left the room and Mitchell tossed the baseball again, fighting the temptation to torment Amy somehow. It'd be fun to throw the ball at her and leave a bruise for this date that might wind up not happening, but Ma would kill him for that. Not worth it. Besides, he'd feel bad every time he had to look at the bruise, which would take days to fade.
"Any ideas?" Amy asked him glumly.
He shrugged. "What do I know? I'm just a pipsqueak."
She flounced out of the room and slammed her bedroom door behind her. Ma stuck her head out of the kitchen and frowned at the noise; Mitchell shrugged and sprawled on his back on the couch, still tossing the ball. It was sort of a bummer that Amy's new dude wasn't going to show up at the house. She'd been chasing around some pretty interesting guys lately.
That meant the sort that Dad and Ma hated.
Which meant that maybe Mitchell ought to be trying harder to get Golden Girl to that movie theater. Anything that got Amy in trouble was worth the effort, especially when he got off scott-free.
There wasn't much a thirteen-year-old kid could do to help out, though, and before Mitchell could come up with even a bad plan, Beth was coming out of the girls' bedroom and talking softly to Ma.
"I'll be right there with her, Mom. Nothing will happen. I'll… I'll take Pipsqueak and we'll sit in the back row and keep an eye on them."
Mitchell covered his face with his baseball glove. The last thing he wanted to do was sit through one of those sappy romantic shit movies Amy was sure to have picked.
"Maybe letting her get stood up by this boy isn't such a bad idea," Ma said thoughtfully.
Mitchell tossed his baseball and wondered why.
An hour later, he and Beth were standing near the popcorn counter, watching Amy talk to her guy. Mitchell recognized him, sort of. He was in Mitchell's grade, but that didn't mean much. So were five hundred other kids.
This kid stood out, though, because he wore a jean jacket all the time, and had long brown hair. Like, below his shoulders long. Mitchell, who'd recently convinced Dad to let him grow out the brush cut he hated, couldn't see letting his own hair get like that. Then again, he couldn't see himself like this guy at all.
Beth leaned over and whispered, "Looks like Perfect Amy's doing some rebelling."
Mitchell shrugged.
"This could be fun," Beth sing-songed, like she was challenging Mitchell to something. He wasn't sure what she wanted to hear so again, he shrugged. Ma always said it was rude to not answer when a gesture was all it took to acknowledge someone, so Mitchell spent a lot of time shrugging and not a lot of time actually speaking. No one seemed to mind.
"Beth, Pi-- Mitchell, this is Trevor," Amy said, leading him over.
The other kid stared at Mitchell. "I know you." He nodded like it all made sense. "You saved my ass that one time at lunch."
Mitchell shrugged. So he'd seen Asshole Jerry sticking his foot out, ready to trip Trevor and send him flying. It hadn't been hard to ruin Asshole Jerry's plans with a quick gesture at Trevor. After all, that had to be the oldest trick in the book, the one that everyone was on to. Mitchell couldn't respect someone who went for the easy route.
"Thanks for that," Trevor said, giving Mitchell a companionable chuck to the shoulder. "I'd have probably gotten expelled again if he'd dumped me."
Mitchell looked over his shoulder, frowning. The guy had touched him.
"That didn't hurt, you wuss," Amy said. She fidgeted some more, wringing her hands. Trevor made a point of peeling one hand away and holding onto it.
"Do you guys really have to watch the movie, too?" Amy asked, biting back a smile as she stared at her hand in Trevor's.
"Yes," Beth said.
"Well, here's the thing," Trevor said, a smile playing at his lips. "If you think I'm gonna sit through some lovey shit like I said I would, you've got another thing coming. No, babe, we're gonna see the thriller. We'll throw popcorn at the bad guys." He nodded like it was all settled, then looked at Beth and Mitchell. "You two can do what you want."
Mitchell hoped they'd go see the thriller.
"But…" Amy said.
"But nothing," Trevor said with a definitive nod. "We can make that sappy shit happen ourselves. But how often do you get to take on the bad guys and save the world?"
Mitchell nodded. He liked the way this guy thought. Well, other than being with Amy. That made his skin crawl.
Beth was grinning. "So you don't care that if we don't cover for you, you'll never see our sister again?" She tossed her whitish-blonde hair over her shoulder.
Trevor looked her over for a long minute. Mitchell half-expected Beth to fidget like Amy was doing, but she didn't. "Should I? Care, that is," Trevor said, sticking his tongue into his cheek. Mitchell wondered if he was trying to challenge Beth -- and if he had any idea how fast she'd put him in his place if he tried.
"Nope," Beth said, her voice warming with approval.
"Stick with me," Trevor said, nodding firmly. "I've got lots to teach the three of you."
Mitchell shrugged, but as soon as Trevor turned his back, Mitchell closed his eyes and hoped that Trevor would dump Amy and be his friend instead.
The Time Before Dinner
Trevor Wolff is -- among other things -- a troublemaker, and a proud one at that. When he was seventeen, he came to live with the Voss family as a legal ward after some trouble that may very well have been his own desperate creation but was, in its own way, a good thing.
Living with the straight-laced Vosses only encouraged his prankster ways, and after awhile, Trevor decided that Mitchell needed to loosen up. Amy needed it, too, come to think of it, so Trevor worked his magic and set up… The Time Before Dinner (posted April 24, 2006).
Patterson had called to say he was due home sooner than originally expected, so Sonya was absorbed in getting dinner together when it all began. She felt rushed; she'd spent the day helping a friend try to make sense of a temporary bookkeeper's disaster and hadn't planned for Patterson's early arrival, even though she should have. Family came first.
Between being tired from the day and the rush to get dinner on, it wasn't surprising that she barely paid attention when Mitchell and Trevo
r slunk through the kitchen, an unfamiliar girl between them. And she was too focused on defrosting the ground beef to dwell on the fact that Trevor was alone when he returned to the kitchen and asked, with his fake innocent air, if there was something he could do. She needed the help and if Trevor was there and offering, she would take it. For once, she wasn't going to think about why Trevor was being altruistic.
She handed Trevor a knife and the onion she'd been trying to chop, turning to rummage in the vegetable bin for the broccoli. The boy went to work without complaining, but again, she was too harried to think much about that anomaly, either. It was just a relief to have the rare extra set of willing hands.
When Amy screeched, Sonya jumped three feet, taking the skillet with her. Mostly defrosted ground beef and unevenly chopped onion splattered her arms; Sonya banged the pan back on its burner. "Amy Christina, this had better be life-or-death!"
"Mom! You have got to see what Mitchell's doing now!" Amy rushed into the kitchen, her face as pale as her hair. She chewed worriedly on her lower lip and gestured over her shoulder with an unusual urgency.
Trevor's snicker stuck in Sonya's brain and she turned to him, considering.
"Let me go see," she said calmly, reaching for a kitchen towel to wipe her hands and arms off with. "You tend the meat," she told Amy and crossed the family room and up the three stairs to the sleeping wing of the house, her daughter's protests about being left behind to cook falling on uncaring ears.
Carefully, quietly, she opened the door to the boys' room and peeked inside. Mitchell and the girl were wrapped around each other, mostly covered by the bedsheets, his hair hiding both their faces.
She cleared her throat.
Mitchell's head jerked around, his eyes wide and scared, his mouth open in surprise. The girl bit back a guilty and panicked sound as Mitchell said, "Ma!" He started to scrabble at the sheets, pulling them up closer around himself and the girl, while trying to soothe her and keep her from further humiliation by running away.
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