He heard the shot crack in the distance as he floated in the cool air at the top of his swing. By the time he’d fallen back to the ground, a faint cry joined the remains of the gunshot echoing off the rocky hillside below him.
Connor dug his heels into the muddy ground and scrambled out of the swing pit. He rotated in place and scanned around the small clearing, but didn’t notice anything interesting. Not that he was even sure what he was looking for.
A tangled mesh of trees and brush surrounded the clearing on three sides. One tree stood apart from the others and supported his simple rope and board swing. Opposite the swing, the clearing fell away down a steep hillside that ended at the outskirts of the little village that he’d called home for all of his nearly five years. A narrow path snaked off into the trees to his right, his small footprints still visible in the mud from his journey up less than an hour before.
Connor tried to peer over the edge of the bluff, but was blocked by brush and the few straggly trees that had managed to grow between the rocks. He jumped in place a couple times, but the few inches he gained only revealed more sky. Frustrated, he kicked at the ground, sent a rock flying into the weeds.
That was it then. All over.
He sighed, scuffed the ground with the tip of one of his Keds, hitched up his short trousers and set off down the hill back to their little clapboard house. He was going to miss old Bouncer.
But even worse than that, never again could Connor get away with taking a dump on the carpet.
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: Anonymous
Why you don't get published.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Q & A 121
If I were told I would shortly be stranded on a desert island, and I would only be able to take five books along with me, and I didn’t have an end date for the stranding (in other words, there would be none of that bullshit crap-TV-show pretend-stranding going on, where there’s really a swank Third World hotel with hot and running showers on the other side of the island), I already know what my first choice of the five would be. Even after all of the time that has passed since my first reading of it, I know which one I’d choose. [I think I know which book you mean, and I would choose the same book. Nothing quite picks up the spirits like rereading Novel Deviations.]
I mention this because, with all the talk of hooks and hooking we all find ourselves needing to do, [If you've been hooking in hopes of getting published, you've been sadly misguided.] (and how if we don’t hook the hell of our first readers there will be no further reading, and thus, no second readers, and so on), the first line of this book is no blow out. It knocks no socks off. It’s simple, although it does leave a reader wondering a quiet little ‘why’. This is the line: “When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.” [How did that happen? Excuse me while I put my socks back on.] [Told someone named Jem got his arm broken, I wouldn't wonder why; I'd assume it wasn't his idea. I'd further assume it was broken in a fight by a bully who'd been teasing him about having a girl's name.]
I find simple lines that draw the reader on down the page to be the most powerful, rather than the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am stuff. [Translation: My novel has a simple, yet powerful opening that draws the reader on down the page.] But I’m not the one who’ll be making the decision to read on - the decision that counts.
What do you think? Is there still room for a quiet, draw-your-eyes-down-the-page kind of hook, or do so many things clamber for attention now that the small and building beginning could be considered a losing art?
That there has to be an explosion of some sort to garner favorable attention?
You need to hook the agent or editor in your query letter, not your first sentence. I suppose you could unhook me in your first sentence, if it had three misspellings, but if your opening paragraphs have the qualities of good writing--focus, specificity, organization, good word choice, a logical narrative progression--and you've started the story in the right place, the explosion can come on page two.
I mention this because, with all the talk of hooks and hooking we all find ourselves needing to do, [If you've been hooking in hopes of getting published, you've been sadly misguided.] (and how if we don’t hook the hell of our first readers there will be no further reading, and thus, no second readers, and so on), the first line of this book is no blow out. It knocks no socks off. It’s simple, although it does leave a reader wondering a quiet little ‘why’. This is the line: “When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.” [How did that happen? Excuse me while I put my socks back on.] [Told someone named Jem got his arm broken, I wouldn't wonder why; I'd assume it wasn't his idea. I'd further assume it was broken in a fight by a bully who'd been teasing him about having a girl's name.]
I find simple lines that draw the reader on down the page to be the most powerful, rather than the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am stuff. [Translation: My novel has a simple, yet powerful opening that draws the reader on down the page.] But I’m not the one who’ll be making the decision to read on - the decision that counts.
What do you think? Is there still room for a quiet, draw-your-eyes-down-the-page kind of hook, or do so many things clamber for attention now that the small and building beginning could be considered a losing art?
That there has to be an explosion of some sort to garner favorable attention?
You need to hook the agent or editor in your query letter, not your first sentence. I suppose you could unhook me in your first sentence, if it had three misspellings, but if your opening paragraphs have the qualities of good writing--focus, specificity, organization, good word choice, a logical narrative progression--and you've started the story in the right place, the explosion can come on page two.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Synopsis 8
There is a legend among space-workers that when someone dies during the building of a starship that ship will be cursed. When a mechanic is crushed beneath the new engines during construction, the owners of The Nebula Dream hush up the incident. Still word gets out among space-workers that the ship is cursed... [And? No one is willing to fly on it?]
NICHOLAS JAMESON (Nick) knows his military career in the Consolidated Star Guard is over. He’s been ordered to report to Sector Hub ASAP and the quickest way there is on the maiden voyage of the luxurious space-liner The Nebula Dream. The only good thing about the trip is when he meets fellow passenger MARA, a beautiful and no-nonsense interstellar business woman. [When you've been in the military and now you're cruising on a luxury liner, there's got to be more than one good thing about the trip.] Before Nick has a chance to ask her out, though, the Nebula Dream collides with an uncharted asteroid field. [When you ask someone out on a bus, you figure she probably lives in the same city as you. When you ask someone out on a space liner, you're lucky if she lives on the same planet as you.]
On his way to an escape pod Nick encounters KHEVAN, a D’vannae brother, one of an order of lethally trained holy men. [I don't want any job that requires training that's lethal.] Nick and Khevan meet Mara and help her save two trapped children. After discovering all the lifeboats are gone, the group heads for the bridge in hopes of getting some answers and some help. On the bridge Nick realizes the ship has taken a shortcut through enemy territory in an attempt to make up time after various ship malfunctions. No distress call has been sent. Nick’s party and the survivors in the lifeboats are stranded and at the mercy of the Mawreg, who will undoubtedly come to investigate the incursion.
Nick’s party retrieve [If "party" is getting a plural verb, why didn't "group" get one last paragraph?] a communication device from the hold that Nick hopes to use to call for rescue. They manage to flee the Dream in a small cutter and rendezvous with a nearby freighter. [Luckily there was a freighter also going through enemy space to make up time.] Nick tells Mara he needs to return to the Dream and release the 850 passengers in cryo sleep. Mara goes with him. [If I booked passage on a luxury cruise, I'd be pigging out at the buffet six times a day, not lying in cryo sleep. If I'm spending an entire space voyage asleep, I'm stringing up a hammock on the cheapest garbage scow I can find.]
Together they release the cyro pods, [They went to release the passengers, not the pods. I assume they open the pods. And shouldn't that be cryo pods?] [Escape pods, cryo pods . . . is every enclosure on this ship named after a legume casing?] but a Mawreg ship arrives and the two of them are trapped in the engine [pod.] room, waiting for the ship to blow. [Where are the 850 passengers they released? Probably pigging out at the buffet.] At the last moment, Nick and Mara are rescued by marines. [How convenient.] The Nebula Dream explodes, [Hey, this is sort of like the Titanic.] destroying the Mawreg ships too.
On the rescue battleship, Nick is given a battlefield promotion for his bravery. [They can take their promotion and shove it. A week ago they were drumming him out of the Corps. Now that he's hot they want their piece of the Nick pie.] Nick proposes to Mara, wanting to make the most of the life that has been given back to them, for themselves and for those who were not so lucky on that ill fated voyage aboard the Nebula Dream. [Hey, we've known each other three days, all of which we've spent on the verge of death; of course I'll marry you.] [Is there a honeymoon cryo pod that sleeps two?]
I'm not sure we need that first paragraph. This seems to be Nick's story more than the Nebula Dream's, so the coverup of the death during construction, and the curse, would seem to be minor subplots.
This could be set on Earth, with a cruise ship. Terrorists instead of Mawreg. No pods, but most of the people on a cruise ship are in cryo sleep anyway.
I've pointed out a few places where the plot inspired questions. If some of them seem like glaring problems, you might want to remove them or explain them.
NICHOLAS JAMESON (Nick) knows his military career in the Consolidated Star Guard is over. He’s been ordered to report to Sector Hub ASAP and the quickest way there is on the maiden voyage of the luxurious space-liner The Nebula Dream. The only good thing about the trip is when he meets fellow passenger MARA, a beautiful and no-nonsense interstellar business woman. [When you've been in the military and now you're cruising on a luxury liner, there's got to be more than one good thing about the trip.] Before Nick has a chance to ask her out, though, the Nebula Dream collides with an uncharted asteroid field. [When you ask someone out on a bus, you figure she probably lives in the same city as you. When you ask someone out on a space liner, you're lucky if she lives on the same planet as you.]
On his way to an escape pod Nick encounters KHEVAN, a D’vannae brother, one of an order of lethally trained holy men. [I don't want any job that requires training that's lethal.] Nick and Khevan meet Mara and help her save two trapped children. After discovering all the lifeboats are gone, the group heads for the bridge in hopes of getting some answers and some help. On the bridge Nick realizes the ship has taken a shortcut through enemy territory in an attempt to make up time after various ship malfunctions. No distress call has been sent. Nick’s party and the survivors in the lifeboats are stranded and at the mercy of the Mawreg, who will undoubtedly come to investigate the incursion.
Nick’s party retrieve [If "party" is getting a plural verb, why didn't "group" get one last paragraph?] a communication device from the hold that Nick hopes to use to call for rescue. They manage to flee the Dream in a small cutter and rendezvous with a nearby freighter. [Luckily there was a freighter also going through enemy space to make up time.] Nick tells Mara he needs to return to the Dream and release the 850 passengers in cryo sleep. Mara goes with him. [If I booked passage on a luxury cruise, I'd be pigging out at the buffet six times a day, not lying in cryo sleep. If I'm spending an entire space voyage asleep, I'm stringing up a hammock on the cheapest garbage scow I can find.]
Together they release the cyro pods, [They went to release the passengers, not the pods. I assume they open the pods. And shouldn't that be cryo pods?] [Escape pods, cryo pods . . . is every enclosure on this ship named after a legume casing?] but a Mawreg ship arrives and the two of them are trapped in the engine [pod.] room, waiting for the ship to blow. [Where are the 850 passengers they released? Probably pigging out at the buffet.] At the last moment, Nick and Mara are rescued by marines. [How convenient.] The Nebula Dream explodes, [Hey, this is sort of like the Titanic.] destroying the Mawreg ships too.
On the rescue battleship, Nick is given a battlefield promotion for his bravery. [They can take their promotion and shove it. A week ago they were drumming him out of the Corps. Now that he's hot they want their piece of the Nick pie.] Nick proposes to Mara, wanting to make the most of the life that has been given back to them, for themselves and for those who were not so lucky on that ill fated voyage aboard the Nebula Dream. [Hey, we've known each other three days, all of which we've spent on the verge of death; of course I'll marry you.] [Is there a honeymoon cryo pod that sleeps two?]
I'm not sure we need that first paragraph. This seems to be Nick's story more than the Nebula Dream's, so the coverup of the death during construction, and the curse, would seem to be minor subplots.
This could be set on Earth, with a cruise ship. Terrorists instead of Mawreg. No pods, but most of the people on a cruise ship are in cryo sleep anyway.
I've pointed out a few places where the plot inspired questions. If some of them seem like glaring problems, you might want to remove them or explain them.
Writing Exercise
Only one person submitted anything, which means either no one liked the prompts or the usual suspects were busy Friday night and Saturday morning. In case it's the latter, I'm extending the deadline till sometime Sunday afternoon. Scroll down for the prompts.
Friday, October 12, 2007
New Beginning 385
Radea did not intend I should be kept waiting. His aide passed me through into the Primus's office the moment I entered the principia.
Radea glanced up. "Ah, Aquilla."
He set one stack of papers aside and moved another in front of him. When I saluted him, he waved me to a seat. I slumped down, unbuckled my plume, and sat with it in my lap.
Despite his wiry frame, he impressed me as being too large for his office, and as meaning to burst out of it the moment he had the chance, like a butterfly escaping the chrysalis.
Together with him, his office had captured the morning heat, and the camp's smells were encapsulated, too, along with those peculiar to administration. The lingering scent of melted wax that always evoked my early childhood. Papers so tinder-dry they smelt scorched. The brooding anxiety of the men brought before the Twelfth's Primus Pilus.
He peered at me across his paper mountain range. “Aquilla of Numidia.”
I nodded.
“Aquilla, It has been brought to my attention that, ah--” He coughed. His uneasiness belied my initial impression of him. “That’s . . . That’s a rather impressive plume, centurion.”
I held it up. “I like 'em big.”
“It is big, yes. And colorful. But we do have standards, you know.”
“Yes, Primus.” I put the plume back in my lap.
“Speaking of standards, you just became Eagle bearer.”
I nodded.
“Usually the Eagle is carried aloft on a pole, not strung about the neck on a gold chain.”
“It’s my blingus.”
“Blingus, Aquilla?”
“Aquilla is my slave name. The boys call me Quinquaginta Denarius.”
“And about your new marching song.” He looked down at a paper and began to read. “Yo Britain, Yo Gaul; The Roman homeys takes it all; Don't dis us, our God is Marsz; And we’sz comin’ now ta put a pilum in yo asz.”
“I wrote it myself. Do you dig it?”
Radea sniffed and slowly nodded. “Fo shizzle ma nizzleum.”
Opening: BuffySquirrel.....Continuation: ril
Radea glanced up. "Ah, Aquilla."
He set one stack of papers aside and moved another in front of him. When I saluted him, he waved me to a seat. I slumped down, unbuckled my plume, and sat with it in my lap.
Despite his wiry frame, he impressed me as being too large for his office, and as meaning to burst out of it the moment he had the chance, like a butterfly escaping the chrysalis.
Together with him, his office had captured the morning heat, and the camp's smells were encapsulated, too, along with those peculiar to administration. The lingering scent of melted wax that always evoked my early childhood. Papers so tinder-dry they smelt scorched. The brooding anxiety of the men brought before the Twelfth's Primus Pilus.
He peered at me across his paper mountain range. “Aquilla of Numidia.”
I nodded.
“Aquilla, It has been brought to my attention that, ah--” He coughed. His uneasiness belied my initial impression of him. “That’s . . . That’s a rather impressive plume, centurion.”
I held it up. “I like 'em big.”
“It is big, yes. And colorful. But we do have standards, you know.”
“Yes, Primus.” I put the plume back in my lap.
“Speaking of standards, you just became Eagle bearer.”
I nodded.
“Usually the Eagle is carried aloft on a pole, not strung about the neck on a gold chain.”
“It’s my blingus.”
“Blingus, Aquilla?”
“Aquilla is my slave name. The boys call me Quinquaginta Denarius.”
“And about your new marching song.” He looked down at a paper and began to read. “Yo Britain, Yo Gaul; The Roman homeys takes it all; Don't dis us, our God is Marsz; And we’sz comin’ now ta put a pilum in yo asz.”
“I wrote it myself. Do you dig it?”
Radea sniffed and slowly nodded. “Fo shizzle ma nizzleum.”
Opening: BuffySquirrel.....Continuation: ril
Face-Lift 436
Guess the Plot
Dog Days
1. Wake up, lick owner, pee outside. Run around. Nap. Pee outside. Dinner dinner dinner, walk! Poop outside! Tease cat, lick owner, sleep. Repeat.
2. Danna competes at dog shows with her beloved miniature Poodle, winning ribbons wherever they go. When gorgeous hunk Brett Grandam begins showing his Borzoi, will Danna stay true to her breed?
3. Laketown's SPCA thinks it'll be a great fundraiser--a calendar of the cutest dogs in the pound. But when local photographer/restauranteur Sun Yi Park is through with the calendar's models, the town's got more to worry about than setting up a Paypal account.
4. Escaped slave Samantha thought her dog Charlie was an ordinary dog--until she discovered that genetically engineered dragons had been programmed to capture him. Can she free the other slaves and prevent a war with the talking trees while also protecting Charlie?
5. Life was simple for Miss Buttons and Miniver. Young widow Anne McDonald provided plenty of tuna, and cat perches that let them see the birds and squirrels outside. But when Daniel Richardson, a breeder of champion spaniels, starts to help Anne open up her heart again, Miss Buttons and Miniver realize this is the beginning of the . . . Dog Days.
6. Terminal cancer patient Steve Marsden makes a deal with the devil: his eternal soul in exchange for 7665 extra days of life, just long enough to see his infant daughter grow up and get married. But Satan mischievously grants Steve 7665 dog days, which pass at seven times the speed of human days. Can Steve get his daughter married off by the age of three?
Original Version
Dear Evil Editor,
I am submitting this query to you because you are so deliciously evil, you love middle grade and fantasy is your favorite genre.
My elevator pitch: In a world of talking trees and flying dragons, a thirteen-year-old slave and her not-so-ordinary dog escape the farm for the forest and the city only to find that no place is safe on the eve of war. [My elevator pitch: Twelve, please.]
Thirteen-year-old Samantha thinks Charlie is a normal dog. But the Farmers are more interested in recapturing him then [than] in bringing back their escaped slave. The reclusive, bark-skinned Treens in the forest readily accept her because Charlie’s by her side. The city people who are supposed to be helping her try to steal Charlie. [Easy to read that sentence as the subject and wonder what happened to the predicate. Perhaps dashes after "people" and "her"?] Not to mention there are genetically engineered dragons programmed to catch him. [Everyone seems to know what's so special about Charlie--except his owner? I'm sure I'll understand why, as soon as you reveal Charlie's amazing quality/ability, which you'll be doing any second now, right?]
All Samantha wants is a safe place to live. Instead, she’s caught in the middle of a city / forest / farm hate triangle. She learns the truth about the Treens, the animals (including Charlie) and the Farmers’ children - the children that the city people say are the Farmers’ army. Can she and her ragtag, dysfunctional group – a city boy, a farm girl, a young Treen, and a dog – [Wait a minute, a girl from a farm with her dog, accompanied by a ragtag group of three, talking trees, going to the city for help . . . Is this Munchkinland?] free the animals and the Farmers’ children [If the children are being held captive, how can they be the farmers' army?] before war destroys the farm, the city and the forest?
Dog Days, my first novel, is complete at 18,000 words.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Notes
Is the impending war to be fought among the city, forest and farms? If so, why are they going to war?
Are the talking trees mobile? Or do they just stand there talking?
Who is holding the animals and the farmers' children captive? Why didn't Samantha already know this, as she's been on a farm?
18,000 words will easily fit on about 80 pages, which makes your book the thickness of 40 sheets of paper. That's pretty thin for a novel, even for middle grades. More importantly, that's not many words in which to describe a world that consists of three separate lands, that has talking trees and dragons, where 13-year-old girls are enslaved, where war is imminent, where one dog is the key to everyone's hopes and dreams. I worry that the book, like the query, needs more information.
And what's so special about Charlie, and why hasn't Samantha noticed it?
Writing Exercise
Below are three fake plots that appeared here about six months ago. Write a 200ish-word scene inspired by one of them. Or all of them. Deadline noon eastern Saturday. Include a name if you want credit.
Down-and-out tramp Artie McFink hasn't eaten in days. Then he discovers he can do that Jedi mind trick. Join him as he tours New York’s finest restaurants.
Mallory thinks that she has found the man of her dreams, until Bill's romantic moonlit proposal turns into Mallory's nightmare. A sapphire? What, is he kidding?
Wisecracking PI Dirk Beefhead hasn't had a case in months when "it" walks into his office. Sure, it was probably sent to Earth to destroy mankind. But the rent wasn't gonna pay itself.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
New Beginning 384
I knew this broad was trouble the first time she stepped into the Barfing Beagle. She wore bad-girl blue jeans and a street-slut halter. On one arm, she cradled a Denebian Antimatter rifle, a real Conversation stopper. Her free hand held a cell phone to her ear. The fairer sex seldom patronized this bar.
"Which of those ass-kissing-weasels screwed the pooch this time?" she asked. A coy smile covered her face and her green eyes met the rheumy, bloodshot gaze of the patrons. She shook her flaming red hair and pulled her shoulders back making her puppies wink. She snapped the cellphone shut. Bartleby the Beagle lifted his head and belched. That's as close as he gets to barfing anymore.
"Which one of you dickless drunkards wants to help me find my Buttercup and Bluebell?" Pouty red lips announced. Tata Murphy fell off his barstool. Buzz Gaspar's false teeth landed in that rotgut he calls bourbon. Tiny Winterhalter spit his beer all over Benny Tillman. Petey Whitehorse grasped his heart and dropped out of sight behind the bar. Sten 'Bitch Face' McCackle vomited blood. The geeks in the compu-booths spewed coffee all over their keyboards.
"Come on, ass-faced motherhumpers. Anyone got the balls to step up?" Luscious, moist lips curled into a pout, which opened as the lady spit a chunk of chew onto the floor.
Father McClosky said, "Lady, I think they're in your bra."
She disintegrated him, then dropped a hand from the rifle and adjusted her balls. "Pussies." As she turned on a spiked heel and swayed her hips to the door, I realized: I've gotta start being less generous with the term 'fairer sex'.
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuaton: Lynn/Khazar-khum
"Which of those ass-kissing-weasels screwed the pooch this time?" she asked. A coy smile covered her face and her green eyes met the rheumy, bloodshot gaze of the patrons. She shook her flaming red hair and pulled her shoulders back making her puppies wink. She snapped the cellphone shut. Bartleby the Beagle lifted his head and belched. That's as close as he gets to barfing anymore.
"Which one of you dickless drunkards wants to help me find my Buttercup and Bluebell?" Pouty red lips announced. Tata Murphy fell off his barstool. Buzz Gaspar's false teeth landed in that rotgut he calls bourbon. Tiny Winterhalter spit his beer all over Benny Tillman. Petey Whitehorse grasped his heart and dropped out of sight behind the bar. Sten 'Bitch Face' McCackle vomited blood. The geeks in the compu-booths spewed coffee all over their keyboards.
"Come on, ass-faced motherhumpers. Anyone got the balls to step up?" Luscious, moist lips curled into a pout, which opened as the lady spit a chunk of chew onto the floor.
Father McClosky said, "Lady, I think they're in your bra."
She disintegrated him, then dropped a hand from the rifle and adjusted her balls. "Pussies." As she turned on a spiked heel and swayed her hips to the door, I realized: I've gotta start being less generous with the term 'fairer sex'.
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuaton: Lynn/Khazar-khum
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Face-Lift 435
Guess the Plot
The Third War of Gods
1. The first time didn't go so well. The second, well, that whole Hiroshima thing put paid to it. But Satan is back and ready for more, and this time he's got a plan he's sure will succeed.
2. It has been foretold that Rogund will defeat the King of Dreams at the City of Gods. But how can one 16-year-old boy stop the King's nightmares from consuming the gods for the power of their dreams, thus saving the world for men and gods alike? Also, wolfmen riding on horses.
3. He's just a little drummer boy. Or is he? When Max taps his little drum the thunder up above roars in reply, waking the Gods, and after fifty thousand years of sleep they're ready to party! But the One True God has different ideas.
4. John hears through his buddies at the bar that the gods are getting ready for yet another war. He could barely sleep during the last war, now they want to fight another one? John considers getting his hands on a nuclear weapon, thinks better of it, and instead drinks himself into a stupor in preparation for . . . The Third War of Gods.
5. Talina lived in world where she seemed to have little say in her fate. People came into her life and then vanished never to be seen again. Everyone who shared her extraordinary powers was intent on killing her, and she could heal herself by eating, of all things, beetles. When there's a sudden pause of all life apart from her she realizes she is the protagonist in a series of computer games called "War of Gods." Can she defy all logic and escape her digital prison?
6. In the first, the Greeks knocked off the Norse. In the second, it was the Romans over the Greeks. Now theologian Kevin McCready has found and opened the real Pandora's Box, releasing all the gods to wander the heavens, bickering over heavenly real estate. Will Kevin be held resposible for . . . The Third War of Gods?
Original Version
The Third War of Gods
16-year old Rogund has been prophesied to defeat the King of Dreams, god of nightmares, [rajah of reverie, vision vizier, potentate of hallucinate,] and save the world -- but Rogund is bleeding to death, and the bodies of his desert tribe are piled around him. Even as Mother Death comes to reap his soul, he swears to hunt down the outlanders that killed his family, no matter what the cost.
Mother Death shows mercy and lets Rogund live, but she commands him to face the King of Dreams at the City of Gods. Rogund disobeys her. [Rogund, Rogund. Even I, who've never heard of her, know that no good can come from disobeying Mother Death.] Instead, he sets out after the outlanders that murdered his tribe. After he raids their camp, Rogund learns that the outlanders' Prince -- Dirna IrSul -- is also prophesied to defeat the King of Dreams in the City of Gods. [Turns out thousands of guys have the same prophesy. The seers figure sooner or later someone's gonna kill the King of Dreams at the City of Gods, and then they'll look good.] The King's nightmares already swarm through Prince IrSul's homeland, consuming men and gods alike for the power of their dreams. [If you already have the power to consume gods, do you really need more?] Desperate and running out of time, Prince IrSul will kill anyone that might get in his way -- especially a boy nomad bent on revenge.
Rogund chases the Prince toward the City of Gods, obsessed with murdering him. But soon an even darker force appears: an army of nightmares has caught Rogund and IrSul's scent. Now wolf-men on horses made of bone hound the heroes' steps, hungry for their dreams. [If I may quote from Face-Lift 78: "If there's a wolfman in a book, it should be stated clearly, up front." The last thing you want is for an editor or agent to stop reading your query letter before getting to the part where you mention the wolfman.]
When Rogund, IrSul, and the King of Dreams collide at the City of Gods, their hate for each other will decide the fate of men and gods alike.
Notes
These so-called gods seem awfully vulnerable, what with getting consumed and having their fates decided by a kid and a prince. As we tend to think of gods as all-powerful, you might want to set this up by declaring that the King of Dreams, god of nightmares is the most powerful god, or is on his way to becoming the most powerful thanks to his army of equestrian wolfmen. Then again, if he's the most powerful of the gods, what chance does Rogund have against him?
Every time I read Rogund I think Rogaine. Change his name to Rogaine, give him a flowing mane, and you may land a lucrative product placement deal.
Presumably there's more to this, like genre, word count, expression of gratitude to the reader for wasting her time, and the other little things that turn a plot summary into a business letter.
New Beginning 383
It isn't that I don't care. I'm just late, again.
I run outside the diner for a minute. Jeanine, my best friend, is leaving me for her sixth grade class. I see Roger – and he's one of mine.
"Roger?" I call. He stops. He's pushing a kid's bike with a wicker laundry basket tied to the frame. He's clean shaven but his hair has a wild and wooly look to it. Salty gray and wiry, it pokes out from under his John Deere ball cap.
"Roger? I haven't seen you all last week. Are you O.K.?" I ask.
"I'm fine Nichelle," he says not quite looking at me. "I'm fine."
"Now – have you eaten today?" I ask.
"Eggy and bacon at the Lutheran's today. It's Wednesday." He says.
I reach out and hold his left wrist. His hands remain firmly on the bike's handlebars. I circle his wrist gently in both my hands.
"You're going to come by the center today – O.K.? I want to see you at the center today." I say.
He seems right enough. It takes more than a chance meeting on the street to know.
"O.K. Nichelle. I like your coffee. You have cream." He pulls off his John Deere cap, but his wooly hair keeps the same shape, like he's wearing an invisible hat.
"Good, I'll see you there," I say. "Gotta go. I'm late."
"Yes!" Roger's face cracks into a wide grin. Pumping his fists, he shouts out to the world, "My boys can still swim!"
He starts to dance around the parking lot. He seemed right enough, but now I'm starting to wonder . . . Did I pick the wrong hobo to father my second child?
Opening: A Snarkling.....Continuation: Anonymous
I run outside the diner for a minute. Jeanine, my best friend, is leaving me for her sixth grade class. I see Roger – and he's one of mine.
"Roger?" I call. He stops. He's pushing a kid's bike with a wicker laundry basket tied to the frame. He's clean shaven but his hair has a wild and wooly look to it. Salty gray and wiry, it pokes out from under his John Deere ball cap.
"Roger? I haven't seen you all last week. Are you O.K.?" I ask.
"I'm fine Nichelle," he says not quite looking at me. "I'm fine."
"Now – have you eaten today?" I ask.
"Eggy and bacon at the Lutheran's today. It's Wednesday." He says.
I reach out and hold his left wrist. His hands remain firmly on the bike's handlebars. I circle his wrist gently in both my hands.
"You're going to come by the center today – O.K.? I want to see you at the center today." I say.
He seems right enough. It takes more than a chance meeting on the street to know.
"O.K. Nichelle. I like your coffee. You have cream." He pulls off his John Deere cap, but his wooly hair keeps the same shape, like he's wearing an invisible hat.
"Good, I'll see you there," I say. "Gotta go. I'm late."
"Yes!" Roger's face cracks into a wide grin. Pumping his fists, he shouts out to the world, "My boys can still swim!"
He starts to dance around the parking lot. He seemed right enough, but now I'm starting to wonder . . . Did I pick the wrong hobo to father my second child?
Opening: A Snarkling.....Continuation: Anonymous
Face-Lift 434
Guess the Plot
Bad Things Haunt Good Men
1. Good men visit haunted house. Mean ghosts say, "Boo!" Bad, bad ghosts. Good men scared. Good men burn down haunted house. Burn, house, burn. Good men happy.
2. Fire burn. Disease kill child. Crop fail. Finger cut off. Earthquake bury house. River flood. Time pass. Good Men still cry. Start group therapy. Become friends.
3. Exes. Odors. Paternity payments. Think you've found a good man? Better find out what's haunting him, too.
4. Drinking self into stupor. Becoming orphan. Being hostage. Being slave. Killing your mother. Slaughter, ruin, murder. Yes, Graham would do anything for love.
5. Documentary maker & film student Hank Fry thought sure that his hard-hitting expose of corruption at dairy goat shows would garner at least an honorable mention. But no. Holocaust films swept the awards again. He's had it--and someone's gonna pay.
6. Bosses that think overtime is compulsory, wives that nag, grass that grows, football teams that lose, beer cans that don't open properly . . . it's hard being a man nowadays. But Tab Prentice is about to break the mold, and honey, his new boobs are hot, hot, hot!
Original Version
I'm seeking representation for my epic fantasy novel, Bad Things Haunt Good Men. The main character, Graham Sullivan, is a rugged Captain in the Queen's Army. Orphaned at eleven, raised by his Royal grandparents, cold, hardened shell of a man, the Captain slowly softens throughout the novel as he is subjected to the affection and the idolizing of a young boy, as well as the love of two women.
Graham is taken hostage by his enemies after a vicious battle, during which he slaughtered several of their men, including the young boy's father. However, as he had saved the boy's life during the heat of the battle, Sarasuto felt endebted to him [Who's Sarasuto?] and speaks for him, taking the Captain as his own slave. [Because I am indebted to you, I shall subject you to a life of slavery. Hey, don't thank me, it's the least I can do.] Such a time passes as when he becomes fond of the boy and his captors. Graham is freed after saving several men's lives during another battle of the war, including the boy yet again. Once free, he seeks out a fellow officer's pregnant widow, to tell her the news of her dead husband, and offer his services. [Seeking out widows to offer your services: why didn't I think of that?]
On his way back to the rebel encampment, he finds a young blonde-haired beauty, and is soon enthralled by her soft and caring nature. Hardened by the circumstances of his life, he now finds himself, astonishingly, with the emotions of any other human. Graham falls in love with her, and sends for her to join him at camp.
It is not long, however, before he returns to the Nincha rebels, fighting for them, leading them, and eventually ensuring their victory by killing the Queen himself, who is actually his mother. [He was orphaned at eleven. Is the queen a zombie?] Thus doing so, he becomes King of Glendja by birth and by the right of slaying the ruler. [If I became the ruler, my first act would be to abolish the law that says he who slays the ruler becomes the ruler.] To his detriment, however, the Queen had taken with her his fiance, the young Natalia. Upon his mother's death, her memory wiping spell on him had disentegrated. He recalls the details of his father's death: a murder at his own mother's hands.Ridden with guilt and shocked by the memories which returned to him, he fled his homeland towards the south, where he drank himself into a stupor until his grandparents summoned him back to Boulvaria. [Suddenly we've switched to past tense. Let's get back to present tense immediately.]
On his way there, he encounters a young Boulvarian noble-girl who has fled from her home to escape a forced marriage. Knowing that his grandparents will indeedmarry him off to ensure an heir, he decides to take the girl under his wing, telling her that he cannot promise her love, but merely companionship and a good life.Due to her own rising interest in this mysterious man, as well as her own unfortunate circumstance, Alysha Waters [If you're going to name her, best to name her when you first mention her.] accepts his proposal. [You flee your country to avoid an arranged marriage, and then agree to marry a guy you've known for two hours, even though he can't promise you love?] They return to Glendja to rule.
During the following year, Alysha fights for her marriage. She has fallen in love with Graham, and yet after their marriage, rather than becoming closer to her, he only draws further away. Graham is haunted by Natalia's memory as well as her spirit, and cannot seem to shake his guilt at letting her die, as well as his father. He turns to drink once again, leaving his country in the hands of his inexperienced Queen, who is more distraught with her marriage than helping their nation to survive.
But Alysha rises to the challenge, forcing him to face his demons and take on his responsibilities as husband as well as king. They help the three warring parts of their country together in trade, and help rebuild the ruins his mother's reign had left behind. Of course he was in love with his wife-that was the reason he had drawn even further into himself in the first place. Graham felt guilty for loving another while his dead fiance's spirit still visited him. Eventually he accepts what cannot be changed, and while Graham and Alysha don't live "happily ever after" as the cliche says, they certainly make a go of it!
Please let me know if you would like to see more of Bad Things Haunt Good Men.
Thank you,
Notes
Way too long for a query letter. You need to get the plot down to about ten sentences. We don't need to know everything. That Graham offered his services to a widow, that he drank himself into a stupor, etc.: minor events can go. Basically we need to know Graham, an orphan raised by his royal grandparents, joins the army and gets captured by rebel forces, whose leader enslaves him as a favor. Seeing the rebel cause as a just one, Graham fights alongside them, earning his freedom. In a later battle he slays the queen, thus becoming king. Alas, the queen killed Graham's fiancée, and he wallows in guilt, even after falling in love with another woman, until eventually he realizes he must be responsible. Then he and his queen rule benevolently and live almost happily ever after. That leaves room to add whatever you wish about Graham going from shell of a man to human to drunkard to beneficent ruler.
Many awkward sentences, some weak word choice, and a few misspellings lead me to believe the book would need excessive editing. That stuff needs to be cleaned up.
The title doesn't give an impression of what kind of book this is. I'm not sure it makes sense anyway. Who are the good men? What are the bad things? Graham is haunted by his guilt is the closest I can come. The query mentions that he's haunted by Natalia's memory and spirit, though I'm not sure those are bad things.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
New Beginning 382
Neferu didn’t know what all the commotion was about. She had asked what was going on, but corpulent old Teta had merely pursed those fishy lips of hers and demanded Neferu “follow her.” Well, Neferu had followed, but she didn’t much like it. Teta- unlike herself- was a practicing priestess, after all, skilled in all the secrets of the Goddess Isis. What under Ra’s benevolent beams could she want then pulling Neferu, a lowly novice, out of her cot at this decidedly ungodly hour?
Scratching at her long, curling black locks, Neferu groggily stifled a yawn. Hastily hitching a fold of her robe back into place with her other hand, she resignedly padded along, trying to keep up with the surprisingly quick waddles of Teta.
Teta ushered the young girl into one of the small alcoves off the main chamber of worship in the temple. With a disgusted “hmph”, Teta left Neferu there and returned gratefully to the warm bed she had been forced to abandon.
A sound from behind. Neferu whirled around. "Rahotep! What are you doing here?"
The man's linen shirt shifted as he stood. "Is that any way to greet your husband?"
"Husband? You're no husband to me! All you ever think of is those sluts at the Blue Hippo!"
"Those 'sluts' know how to please a man." He moved closer, blocking the light. "It's time my wife pleased me."
"Stay away from me," she warned, her hand reaching behind her and finding an alabaster wine bottle. Without thinking, she crashed it down on his skull. Rahotep dropped to the floor.
Neferu let the broken vessel fall on him with a dull thud and stood still, waiting for her heart to settle down. What had she done? She had killed Rahotep, and now her heart would speak against her before Osiris.
She saw the dim form of one of the guards drawing near, and realized she would face the vizier long before she faced Osiris. Unless . . . "Help!" she cried. "Teta--Teta has slain my husband!"
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: Khazar-khum
Scratching at her long, curling black locks, Neferu groggily stifled a yawn. Hastily hitching a fold of her robe back into place with her other hand, she resignedly padded along, trying to keep up with the surprisingly quick waddles of Teta.
Teta ushered the young girl into one of the small alcoves off the main chamber of worship in the temple. With a disgusted “hmph”, Teta left Neferu there and returned gratefully to the warm bed she had been forced to abandon.
A sound from behind. Neferu whirled around. "Rahotep! What are you doing here?"
The man's linen shirt shifted as he stood. "Is that any way to greet your husband?"
"Husband? You're no husband to me! All you ever think of is those sluts at the Blue Hippo!"
"Those 'sluts' know how to please a man." He moved closer, blocking the light. "It's time my wife pleased me."
"Stay away from me," she warned, her hand reaching behind her and finding an alabaster wine bottle. Without thinking, she crashed it down on his skull. Rahotep dropped to the floor.
Neferu let the broken vessel fall on him with a dull thud and stood still, waiting for her heart to settle down. What had she done? She had killed Rahotep, and now her heart would speak against her before Osiris.
She saw the dim form of one of the guards drawing near, and realized she would face the vizier long before she faced Osiris. Unless . . . "Help!" she cried. "Teta--Teta has slain my husband!"
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: Khazar-khum
Face-Lift 433
Guess the Plot
A Legacy of Ashes
1. When a neighborhood prankster sets fire to Bob's new Subaru station wagon, he becomes obsessed with revenge. Can the love of a good woman--and a new Toyota Highlander--prevent him from going on a killing rampage?
2. Her father was cremated. The letter about her biological mother was burned. Now if Ashlyn wants to learn anything about her family, she'll have to depend on her super power: the inexplicable ability to see the memories and feel the emotions of anyone in her presence. Will the ability prove to be a gift or a curse?
3. He was the most amazing man she ever knew: smart, strong, and sexy. But if Maribel bears the child of Satan, will he love her faithfully forever, or will he leave her only . . . A Legacy of Ashes?
4. Growing up, Sam Smith (aka Sham Shmith) was teased because of his speech impediment, caused by his freakishly long tongue. When Sam grew up, however, he discovered that women went crazy for his long tongue, and he could have, as he put it, "any peesh of ash I want."
5. Land developer Kate Bumbry-Mills, lowered her flame thrower on the fairy ring that caused her so much childhood angst and torched the rosies and posies to ashes and more ashes. Then she fell down and giggled.
6. When her beloved great-aunt Beulah dies, Holly Hollingsworth goes to the will reading with high expectations. But while her cousin Jarred gets the house, her sister gets the jewelry and her brother gets cash, Holly finds she's been given custody of Beulah's cremains. Now she's trying to discover what she did to deserve . . . A Legacy of Ashes.
Original Version
Dear Mr.[Agent],
Ashlyn knows how other people feel. Literally. An inexplicable gift has haunted her since birth, allowing her to feel hidden emotions and see private memories from anyone in her presence. [If it has haunted her since birth, I'm not sure I'd call it a gift.] Yet growing up with an unemployed single father is enough without carrying burdens for everyone else. [I can see how she'd be saddened by some burdens, but carrying burdens for people implies lightening their loads. And for everyone? If you feel the emotions of someone who's happy, are you carrying his burden?]
Her gift has always seemed more like a curse – [Mainly because every guy she goes near is remembering the best sex he ever had, and every woman she goes near is remembering the best shoes she ever had.] until she saves her uncle's life by pulling knowledge from his mind. [Ashlyn, I can't remember which drawer I keep my heart medication in, and which one I keep the Russel's viper in.] Now the gift is growing stronger and Ashlyn must learn to control it, even as her family pushes her to use it for their own gain. [Hey Ash, just as an experiment, can you scan that guy's memories for his VISA number?] In a very real world of poverty, pressure, and troubled parents, Ashlyn has to decide what she wants her future to be. Depression and anorexia push her down the wrong path. If Ashlyn can stop the cycle in time, she can rise above the broken legacy of her family.
A LEGACY OF ASHES is complete at 60,000 words and is available for review at your convenience. Many thanks for considering my work.
[PS: The novel is called A Legacy of Ashes because both of her parents get represented through ashes - her father is cremated, and a letter about her biological mother gets burned.]
Notes
Too much generality. What are the specifics on how Ashlyn saves her uncle's life? What, specifically, do her family members want her to do with her gift? What is this cycle she needs to rise above? What is the wrong path she is pushed down by depression and anorexia?
Can she focus her power on an individual, or is she constantly feeling everyone's emotions and memories? Can she turn off her power when she wants to? Has she really been seeing other people's memories since birth?
Is there a main plot thread, set when Ashlyn is a certain age? Or is it just things that happen to a character with an inexplicable gift over the course of her life? What will happen when her gift becomes really powerful and she learns to control it? Will she find peace at last? Become a superhero? Start a charity? What's her ultimate goal and what are the obstacles? That's your story.
You can't answer all these questions in one page, but answer them somewhere and decide which answers belong on the page.
Monday, October 08, 2007
New Beginning 381
Austin first met the cat at the end of a long afternoon at the Friday bazaar with his parents.
They had been in Turkey for only five days and already he was bored. It took ten hours by bus to get down south – at night too – and when they arrived at the house early in the morning, the doors were all locked up and the front yard (if you could call it a yard, he thought, all paved and tiled over) was covered in fallen pine cones and needles, and even wooden crates and garbage from the restaurant next door. His Dad was sullen and his Mum was trying to stay cheerful, but it took them forever to get the door unlocked and make up the beds with clean sheets so that they could get a little sleep. His bed smelled damp and mouldy. I could have stayed with X in England and gone to football camp instead.
The bazaar (if you could call it a bazaar, he thought, just a ragtag marketplace of shops and stalls) sold mostly carpets, copper goods, and cheesy souvenirs. Austin sighed, his hopes of snagging a new PlayStation dashed. His Dad was giddy and his Mum was trying to stay sober, but the raki was flowing a little too freely for that.
And that’s when the cat appeared (if you could call it a cat, he thought, six feet tall, with a goofy cartoon face, a yard-high red and white striped hat, and an aura that spoke of pure evil) smelling of fish and raki as it leaned in close and whispered to Austin:
"I do not like this lame bazaar
I think that we should steal a car.
We’ll ditch the ’rents. I know some tricks.
We'll trash some mosques and pick up chicks."
The heck with football camp, thought Austin, as he followed his new friend through the winding lanes.
Opening: Deniz Bevan.....Continuation: Anonymous
They had been in Turkey for only five days and already he was bored. It took ten hours by bus to get down south – at night too – and when they arrived at the house early in the morning, the doors were all locked up and the front yard (if you could call it a yard, he thought, all paved and tiled over) was covered in fallen pine cones and needles, and even wooden crates and garbage from the restaurant next door. His Dad was sullen and his Mum was trying to stay cheerful, but it took them forever to get the door unlocked and make up the beds with clean sheets so that they could get a little sleep. His bed smelled damp and mouldy. I could have stayed with X in England and gone to football camp instead.
The bazaar (if you could call it a bazaar, he thought, just a ragtag marketplace of shops and stalls) sold mostly carpets, copper goods, and cheesy souvenirs. Austin sighed, his hopes of snagging a new PlayStation dashed. His Dad was giddy and his Mum was trying to stay sober, but the raki was flowing a little too freely for that.
And that’s when the cat appeared (if you could call it a cat, he thought, six feet tall, with a goofy cartoon face, a yard-high red and white striped hat, and an aura that spoke of pure evil) smelling of fish and raki as it leaned in close and whispered to Austin:
"I do not like this lame bazaar
I think that we should steal a car.
We’ll ditch the ’rents. I know some tricks.
We'll trash some mosques and pick up chicks."
The heck with football camp, thought Austin, as he followed his new friend through the winding lanes.
Opening: Deniz Bevan.....Continuation: Anonymous
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Face-Lift 432
Guess the Plot
Dylan O’Leary and the Magic of the Calawacadoza
1. Dylan O'Leary is rolling home from Paddy Whack's Knick-Knack Pub when he stops to give a dog a bone. From a single act of kindness comes the gift of magic, bestowed by a mysterious Italian circus troop, the Flying Calawacadoza. But is the ability to turn people into gold truly a gift? Or is it a curse??
2. When stage magician Dylan O'Leary inherits a life-sized wooden Indian named "Calawacadoza" from his uncle, the spirit in the statue shows him that Magic is real. Can he defeat Prince Tromedlov and save the world from the next Dark Age?
3. A poet was all he ever wanted to be, a real one, like his namesake Dylan Thomas. Instead all Dylan O'Leary has is a job at a pub and a girlfriend who cheats on him. When he keeps a strange coin found on the bar, tiny men begin following him around. Will they help him . . . or destroy him?
4. No one believes Dylan O'Leary when he tells them about his favorite new herb - especially not his closest family members, who insist he's just drunk on the local ale. But they sing a different tune when they try his special recipe for brownies.
5. Dylan O'Leary is your typical Irishman. He spends most of his days (and nights) at the local pub. Until that stranger walks in the door and dies at his feet. Now, Dylan is on the run from leprechauns who want to know the secret of the magic of the Calawacadoza. Dylan runs into a fairy circle and begs help from the Fairy King whose price is eternal sobriety. Will Dylan pay with his liquor to remove the threat of the leprechauns?
6. Dylan O'Leary falls through a wormhole in Lake Michigan, emerges in a land where magical calawacadoza flowers have helped create an advanced talking animal civilization, and is assigned a mission to save humanity from an evil organization of criminals. Can Dylan succeed in time to start the sixth grade?
Original Version
Dear Evil Editor,
Through a bit of very obvious research, I know you take great joy in tearing apart query letters, which is exactly the reason I’m sending you the "final draft" of my letter for the 68,500-word middle grade fantasy, Dylan O’Leary and the Magic of the Calawacadoza. I’m hoping to get some wonderful advice that I can use or, at the least, a good laugh. [At first I assumed this was a note to Evil Editor, but as it's the only place that mentions the title, we'll assume it's part of the query letter, and that we should replace "tearing apart query letters" with "dispatching form rejection letters.]
One hot summer’s day, Dylan O’leary, daydreamer and adventuress-at-large, listens to unexpected directions from a crazy red bird, falls into a wormhole in Lake Michigan, and finds herself on the hidden islands of Animalia. [Immediately she wonders what was in that Kool-Aid her friend Johnny D. Light gave her.] But her biggest shock comes when the island’s outlandish creatures assign her a task; stop the Black Eagle Group (B.E.G.) from discovering their treasure-filled land. If she fails, these animal poaching modern-day pirates will become the wealthiest powers on the planet and rule our world. When Dylan embarks on a wild adventure in the middle of the Indian Ocean, she must challenge the unknown. [Is this the same adventure?] What’s being human really about? [It's about being at the top of the food chain. Okay, second--I forgot about sharks.] Is being brave in her DNA? Will she ever meet her father? [Where did that come from?] And as she plunges further into harm’s way, can she lead the notorious B.E.G. to their demise without exposing Animalia’s secrets? [If you were going to use the phrase "notorious B.E.G.", you should have made them the Black Iguana Group.] In a place where nothing is as it appears [Nothing? Are there or aren't there outlandish animals on the islands of Animalia?] and magical Calawacadoza flowers make the unimaginable possible, the battle to save humanity becomes hers to win…or lose.
Pretty daunting task considering Dylan starts grade six in three weeks.
I’m a creative director from the world of advertising and a first time novelist who’s very active in my writer’s group and the SCBWI. I was sitting in my backyard when a crazy red bird instructed me to write a humorous and culturally relevant story that was inspired by my travels, history and current events.
Please let me know if you would like to see the completed manuscript. Thank you for your time and consideration. May many wild adventures fill your dreams!
Sincerely,
Notes
There's a kids' book called Animalia which I understand is being made into a television series as we speak. It's for younger kids, and "animalia" is a word anyway, but consider that once something's on television, no one'll think you came up with it yourself. That's why Dr. Suess changed the street in his book And to Think that I Saw it on Sesame Street to Mulberry Street after the TV show came on. He knew everyone would think he stole it from PBS.
In the first sentence Animalia is a group of islands. In the second it's one island.
I assume a big draw of the book is the outlandish creatures of Animalia, but no animals are described once we reach Animalia.
Although I could envision this query getting a request for pages, we had a fairly specific plot going until we cut it short and started asking vague questions. Eliminating the questions leaves room for a more engaging opening, like this one which uses information from your as-yet-unposted synopsis:
How could Dylan O'Leary possibly have known that that crazy red bird, CARDINAL RICHELIEU, would open a wormhole at the exact moment two dogs pushed her and JAKE, her braniac best friend, into Lake Michigan? When Dylan and Jake emerge, they're on the hidden, treasure-filled islands of Animalia, home to totally advanced, and oftentimes freakish, creatures. The surprises keep coming: Dylan couldn’t converse with animals before, and now they won’t shut up.
Dylan and Jake soon learn that they’ve been called by KING RAJ III--half tiger, half chameleon, half spider monkey--to stop Black Iguana Group (B.I.G.) from discovering the islands. If they fail, these animal-poaching modern-day pirates will become the wealthiest powers on the planet and rule the world.In a place where magical Calawacadoza flowers make the unimaginable possible, Dylan and Jake battle to save Animalia--and humanity itself. Can they lead the notorious B.I.G. to their demise without exposing Animalia’s secrets . . . and still make it home in time to start sixth grade?
New Beginning 380
February 25, 1865 [Three miles west of Petersburg, Virginia]
Will had been cold so many times in the last three years he lost count, but nothing like this. The wetness, the slime of the hole, trenches as Captain Taylor called them, was unbearable. He had accepted the foul odor of the other men as normal, but how could you get used to blinding cold? A panic said get out?.If this was trench warfare as Captain Taylor said he would just as soon take his chances in the open. You either live or die in no man’s land, no more dying little by little.
Fifteen more minutes of duty and he would try to sleep. Although his fatigue was overwhelming it had a benefit. He was losing the deep dread that had plagued his whole being the whole day. He stuffed three rags inside his shirt to try and help keep out the cold. It was not only the cold but apprehension of a mortar shell caving in the trench was on his mind constantly. Three days ago the company took a blast in which two men died under the debris, while nine somehow dug their way out. And where was the Sentry relief?
Will crept over the lip of the trench and tried to bury himself deep in a wet crevice, but the tangled foliage all around disoriented him.
Suddenly, he heard loud voices and the camp came alive. Was it the sentry relief at last? No, the sentries knew better than to make so much noise. He dove back into the trench and huddled silently, waiting . . . waiting for a rocket to penetrate without warning and explode all around.
Damn it all, Will yelled silently. I can't take this. Why? Why was I born a vaginal mite?
Opening: Bernard St. James.....Continuation: Pacatrue
Will had been cold so many times in the last three years he lost count, but nothing like this. The wetness, the slime of the hole, trenches as Captain Taylor called them, was unbearable. He had accepted the foul odor of the other men as normal, but how could you get used to blinding cold? A panic said get out?.If this was trench warfare as Captain Taylor said he would just as soon take his chances in the open. You either live or die in no man’s land, no more dying little by little.
Fifteen more minutes of duty and he would try to sleep. Although his fatigue was overwhelming it had a benefit. He was losing the deep dread that had plagued his whole being the whole day. He stuffed three rags inside his shirt to try and help keep out the cold. It was not only the cold but apprehension of a mortar shell caving in the trench was on his mind constantly. Three days ago the company took a blast in which two men died under the debris, while nine somehow dug their way out. And where was the Sentry relief?
Will crept over the lip of the trench and tried to bury himself deep in a wet crevice, but the tangled foliage all around disoriented him.
Suddenly, he heard loud voices and the camp came alive. Was it the sentry relief at last? No, the sentries knew better than to make so much noise. He dove back into the trench and huddled silently, waiting . . . waiting for a rocket to penetrate without warning and explode all around.
Damn it all, Will yelled silently. I can't take this. Why? Why was I born a vaginal mite?
Opening: Bernard St. James.....Continuation: Pacatrue
Friday, October 05, 2007
Face-Lift 431
Guess the Plot
Phantom Tears
1. Better than the visage of Jesus in the grilled cheese sandwich. More powerful than the specter of Mary on the garage door. It is the miracle of the tears that aren't there. Come feel them for yourself in Cranston, RI.
2. Two phantoms work with their hosts to prevent an approaching cataclysm that threatens to destroy the world's peace. Also, the Devil reveals his favorite food.
3. Famed tenor Mario Belcanto, out of work now that the "Phantom of the Opera" franchise has run its course, decides to end it all if he doesn't land a role in "Il Pagliacci." Can soprano Gertrude Hugenbuttem convince the director that Mario was born to play Beppe, and dry Mario's Phantom tears? Can she get him to quit wearing that stupid mask?
4. Jane Merriwether needs just one more ingredient for a love spell to attract handsome Lord Romley -- the tears of a phantom. But the phantom cries only at the death of a child. Will Jane commit cruel murder to win her love?
5. When four year-old Gabe Wilson can't produce the necessary tears to get his daily ice cream fix, he learns phantom tears work almost as well with the new babysitter. Except the new babysitter is a crack dealer. Will Gabe's tears get him his dessert, or will his babysitter string him out on something worse than sugar?
6. Living next to a graveyard scares Misty Fedine. But late one night she hears a hauntingly beautiful tune floating over the graves and follows the sound until she encounters the ghost of a young man. Can she help him find his lost love?
Original Version
Dear Ms/Mr Agent
I understand you have much interest and experience in the genre of Science fiction, Fantasy and Young Adult, therefore I would like you to consider my speculative fiction novel, Phantom Tears, complete at 255,000 words. [I guess if you write in three genres at once, it makes sense to write enough for three books.]
'The Devil's favourite dinner is sin forged in the noblest heart.' - Anon, 7012, new calender [In the year 7012, much has changed; for instance, "calendar" is spelled differently. Or . . . was that colander? "The Devil's favourite dinner is angel hair strained through the noblest colander."] [Opening a novel with a quotation isn't unusual. It usually mean either that the author finished the book, looked through some quotations, found one that sounded cool and slapped it on the first page hoping people would think he found the quotation first and based the book on it, or that the author just likes the quotation and figures that because she's had a book published, people will assume it must be a really profound quote, no matter how meaningless and irrelevant it is, and will admire the author for her sagacity in choosing this other person's words.
Opening a query letter with a quotation--a query letter that will be read by one unpaid intern slush reader--is almost as annoying.]
When ideologies are seperated by miles of magic ravage wasteland [And people ask me where I get off rejecting their life's work after reading less than one sentence.] its easy to believe everything you hear, but when Layne and Tania are drawn into a web of lies and deception it forces them to realise everything is not black and white, about both their enemies and their own City, Trachedae. [Hey, the good news is, from here, there's nowhere to go but up. I hope.]
As military students, advanced engineering tests and combat simulations were Layne and Tania's biggest worries, then two seemingly unconnected acts of opportunist aggression tear Layne's world apart. In the aftermath he uncovers a trail of clues that, amazingly, brings him into suspicion and he is chased from not only the Garrison, but also his home City. Tania is also forced to flee the Garrison, a military training centre dedicated to protecting the City, after finding Layne's incriminating notes and takes refuge within Trachdae itself. [Trachedae.]
With the aid of their intangible symbionts, Shyla and Djan, the pair struggle to survive; [Life is so much easier when you have an intangible symbiont. I wonder if I could get an intangible symbiont to do my blog.] Layne forced to seek redemption within the evil Gang Fortress and Tania seemingly a target for assassination from within the Garrison itself. Working from opposite ends of the same problem, they reveal a plot that threatens not only Trachedae, but could destroy the delicate standoff between the Gangs and the Cities that keeps the whole world in relative peace.
Phantom Tears is a novel that mixes magic and science and explores preconcieved notions of right and wrong amongst the snowballing events of an approaching cataclysm. It would appeal to fans of Michael Marshal Smith, Clive Barker and Iain M Banks, as well as the big kid in all of us.
Enclosed please find a synopsis and a sample of the first 5 pages of my manuscript, I look forward to hearing from you in the future.
Yours Sincerely
[The 'Phantom' in question is the technical name for Shyla and Djan, the symbionts.] [Saying the technical name for symbiont is phantom is like saying the technical name for homo sapiens is dude.]
Notes
There are enough spelling, grammar, and sentence structure errors here to bury you. Plus, the first clause of the first sentence of the plot makes no sense.
I also have no sense of what happens. Here's what we know: Two unspecified acts of aggression by unspecified aggressors tear Layne's world apart. He uncovers clues of something unspecified and comes under suspicion of something unspecified. Tania finds his incriminating (to him or her?) notes about something unspecified. Oh, and by the way, Tania and Layne have intangible symbionts.
It's all too vague.
Start over. The gangs and the cities are at peace. Someone is plotting to disrupt the peace. Layne and Tania are the good guys. Who are the bad guys, and what are they up to, and what do the good guys plan to do to stop them? Be specific. And stop capitalizing "city."
There's no need to mention the symbionts in the query if you aren't going to make it clear what role they play.
New Beginning 379
We didn’t have much time. But, I didn’t know that back then. It was the year my best friend and I turned thirteen. Besides memories, all I have left from the last summer Noelle and I spent together are my three favorite pictures. One is a cheat, because I didn’t take it. To be honest, I’m not sure who did.
Noelle and I were at our neighborhood park, sitting at the edge of the pond. Thirty feet away, a fountain splashed water toward our bare feet, which we dangled in the cool water. We’re both laughing hysterically at something; I wish I could remember what. Noelle’s head is thrown back, her face tipped to the sky, her eyes are clinched, and the fingers of both hands curl around long, green grass that sprouts from under her legs. And me, I’m looking right at her.
Sometimes, as I stare at that photograph, I wonder if we both had a clue about what was drawing near. With Noelle gripping the ground like she didn’t want to be torn away, and me simply staring like I’m trying to memorize every aspect of her that I can, it isn’t so hard for me to believe that we’d heard a whisper carried on the wind. If only the message had been a shout, if only we could have prepared, everything in my world might still be right side up.
"Jesus Christ, lady! Would you just shut the fuck up and listen to the man? You can't use none of them pictures! Look -- there's thirty people behind you now, and we all want to get our licenses and get the fuck on with our lives."
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: ril
Noelle and I were at our neighborhood park, sitting at the edge of the pond. Thirty feet away, a fountain splashed water toward our bare feet, which we dangled in the cool water. We’re both laughing hysterically at something; I wish I could remember what. Noelle’s head is thrown back, her face tipped to the sky, her eyes are clinched, and the fingers of both hands curl around long, green grass that sprouts from under her legs. And me, I’m looking right at her.
Sometimes, as I stare at that photograph, I wonder if we both had a clue about what was drawing near. With Noelle gripping the ground like she didn’t want to be torn away, and me simply staring like I’m trying to memorize every aspect of her that I can, it isn’t so hard for me to believe that we’d heard a whisper carried on the wind. If only the message had been a shout, if only we could have prepared, everything in my world might still be right side up.
"Jesus Christ, lady! Would you just shut the fuck up and listen to the man? You can't use none of them pictures! Look -- there's thirty people behind you now, and we all want to get our licenses and get the fuck on with our lives."
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: ril
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Synopsis 7
Princess Kauril of Tarishah leads a double life. A decades old regency bars her from her empty throne until she bears an heir. To avoid power-seeking suitors, she becomes “Falcon,” an agent of Queen Sabrina of Fayette. Sabryna’s [Is this the same character who was spelling her name with an "i" three words earlier?] husband, King Jurriaan, is kept ignorant of Falcon’s true identity.
Prince Karsh of Sabbatus, a nation of warriors, escapes his murderous half-siblings and changes his name to Mordent. [Okay, I can tell already we're going to need a chart to keep up with this.
Kingdom......Residents.............AKA......Description
Tarishah......Princess Kauril........Falcon...........Heirless
..........................Suitors.................................Power-seeking
Fayette................Sabrina............Sabryna..........Queen
...........................Jurriaan..................................Ignorant
Sabbatus...............Karsh..............Mordent.........Prince
.........................Half-siblings.............................Murderous
I recommend including this chart with the synopsis if you want anyone to get past those first four sentences.]
The battle for supremacy decimates Sabbatus. Mordent uses magic to manipulate Jurriaan into ceding control over Tarishah [Why doesn't he just use magic to manipulate his murderous half-siblings into their graves?] [How does the king of Fayette have any control over Tarishah to cede?] which allows Mordent to drain its coffers to revitalize Sabbatus. [Coffers. They're always being filled or drained, but no one knows what they are.]
The story begins as [Man, I hate it when I'm thoroughly confused, and then I find out the story hasn't even begun yet.] Sabryna, mortally ill, pleads with Falcon to resume life as the Princess and choose Jurriaan as her consort. [This is when the story begins? After Falcon is in Fayette?] Feeling obligated to Sabryna but unwilling to abandon the life she has created, Falcon has a clandestine affair with him and becomes his informant. [I feel obligated to Sabryna, so I'll screw her husband on the sly.]
Mordent discovers Falcon is Kauril and courts her. Jurriaan rebuffs Falcon’s counsel while Mordent enthralls her. ["Enthralls" meaning "enchants" or "enslaves"?] His planned seduction threatens her affair with Jurriaan and her freedom. Wounded in an altercation with Mordent, she flees Fayette.
Falcon discovers evidence implicating Jurriaan and Mordent in a scheme to plunder Tarishah. She scours the countryside to find proof to exonerate them. [One of them rebuffed her counsel, the other wounded her, and she's going out of her way to exonerate them? If I suspected they were plundering my coffers, I'd be looking for proof that implicates them.] A tax collector and a band of Sabbat soldiers reach the town of Ozapfelh before she does. [Why is she going there?] They seize most of its wealth. The villagers give Falcon one month to overt [overt?] an uprising by uncovering the culprit. [The culprit? It's the tax collector and the band of Sabbat soldiers. Took me three seconds; and Falcon has a month? Now if you mean who's behind the culprits, Falcon found that evidence at the beginning of this paragraph.] [I don't see an uprising by some villagers as a big threat anyway.]
Circumstantial evidence incriminates Mordent but her month is over. She accuses him of treason. His compulsion spell goes awry and she rejects his marriage proposal. [Marry you? A magician who can't even cast a decent compulsion spell? I don't think so.] Mordent then coerces Jurriaan to dismiss the charge.
Falcon unsuccessfully attempts to persuade Jurriaan to revoke Mordent’s power over Tarishah despite the acquittal. As she is leaving Jurriaan’s suites Mordent arrives. He chases her but she evades him. [Can Mordent do anything right? He's the Inspector Clouseau of evil sorcerers.]
In Ozapfelh cries of war threaten to drown saner voices. Falcon convinces them to take a more surreptitious approach, looting the tithe train and leaving the authorized tithe. [What are you talking about now? Wait, I know, you're talking about Brother Cornelius's Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiithe Train.] She hopes to delay a confrontation long enough to bear an heir and end the regency. [Bearing an heir doesn't get the Ozapfelhian villagers' wealth back, and even if it does, you don't bear an heir overnight. Are they supposed to rob the tithe train for the next nine months?] Falcon embraces the Princess’s duties even though she can’t reclaim her title.
Yet.
If the princess wants to avoid suitors, she could just hide out in Sabryna's castle instead of becoming Sabryna's "agent." You might mention that she would rather be an agent than a queen.
The dynamic among the kingdoms isn't clear. Mordent is from Sabbatus, yet (according to the query submitted earlier) he's the Administrator of the Regency--in Tarishah. Kauril accuses Mordent of treason against Tarishah, but the charge is dismissed by Jurriaan, the king of Fayette. Mordent asks the king of Fayette to cede to him control of Tarishah. Are these three separate kingdoms, each with its own ruler? One could get the impression Tarishah is a province of Fayette.
This sounds like an 800-word synopsis that was reduced to 400, not by eliminating the least important events, but by keeping everything and eliminating the elaboration/explanations. It's an outline; a list. Throw in all the names, and places, and the reader's eyes are quickly glazing over. These seem to be the main plot points:
Barred from assuming the throne of Tarishah until she bears an heir, Princess Kauril flees her power-hungry suitors and takes up residence in Fayette. There she becomes Falcon!, an agent of the mortally ill Queen Sabryna.
The evil sorcerer Mordent, whose land has been decimated by his half-siblings' campaign for power, plots with Fayette's King Jurriaan to drain the coffers of Tarishah in Kauril's absence.
Falcon learns of Mordent's treachery and returns to Tarishah where she tries to get knocked up so she can legally have all her enemies tortured and killed.
Now, develop each of these ideas with specific information, but without adding new people, places, aliases, etc.
Prince Karsh of Sabbatus, a nation of warriors, escapes his murderous half-siblings and changes his name to Mordent. [Okay, I can tell already we're going to need a chart to keep up with this.
Kingdom......Residents.............AKA......Description
Tarishah......Princess Kauril........Falcon...........Heirless
..........................Suitors.................................Power-seeking
Fayette................Sabrina............Sabryna..........Queen
...........................Jurriaan..................................Ignorant
Sabbatus...............Karsh..............Mordent.........Prince
.........................Half-siblings.............................Murderous
I recommend including this chart with the synopsis if you want anyone to get past those first four sentences.]
The battle for supremacy decimates Sabbatus. Mordent uses magic to manipulate Jurriaan into ceding control over Tarishah [Why doesn't he just use magic to manipulate his murderous half-siblings into their graves?] [How does the king of Fayette have any control over Tarishah to cede?] which allows Mordent to drain its coffers to revitalize Sabbatus. [Coffers. They're always being filled or drained, but no one knows what they are.]
The story begins as [Man, I hate it when I'm thoroughly confused, and then I find out the story hasn't even begun yet.] Sabryna, mortally ill, pleads with Falcon to resume life as the Princess and choose Jurriaan as her consort. [This is when the story begins? After Falcon is in Fayette?] Feeling obligated to Sabryna but unwilling to abandon the life she has created, Falcon has a clandestine affair with him and becomes his informant. [I feel obligated to Sabryna, so I'll screw her husband on the sly.]
Mordent discovers Falcon is Kauril and courts her. Jurriaan rebuffs Falcon’s counsel while Mordent enthralls her. ["Enthralls" meaning "enchants" or "enslaves"?] His planned seduction threatens her affair with Jurriaan and her freedom. Wounded in an altercation with Mordent, she flees Fayette.
Falcon discovers evidence implicating Jurriaan and Mordent in a scheme to plunder Tarishah. She scours the countryside to find proof to exonerate them. [One of them rebuffed her counsel, the other wounded her, and she's going out of her way to exonerate them? If I suspected they were plundering my coffers, I'd be looking for proof that implicates them.] A tax collector and a band of Sabbat soldiers reach the town of Ozapfelh before she does. [Why is she going there?] They seize most of its wealth. The villagers give Falcon one month to overt [overt?] an uprising by uncovering the culprit. [The culprit? It's the tax collector and the band of Sabbat soldiers. Took me three seconds; and Falcon has a month? Now if you mean who's behind the culprits, Falcon found that evidence at the beginning of this paragraph.] [I don't see an uprising by some villagers as a big threat anyway.]
Circumstantial evidence incriminates Mordent but her month is over. She accuses him of treason. His compulsion spell goes awry and she rejects his marriage proposal. [Marry you? A magician who can't even cast a decent compulsion spell? I don't think so.] Mordent then coerces Jurriaan to dismiss the charge.
Falcon unsuccessfully attempts to persuade Jurriaan to revoke Mordent’s power over Tarishah despite the acquittal. As she is leaving Jurriaan’s suites Mordent arrives. He chases her but she evades him. [Can Mordent do anything right? He's the Inspector Clouseau of evil sorcerers.]
In Ozapfelh cries of war threaten to drown saner voices. Falcon convinces them to take a more surreptitious approach, looting the tithe train and leaving the authorized tithe. [What are you talking about now? Wait, I know, you're talking about Brother Cornelius's Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiithe Train.] She hopes to delay a confrontation long enough to bear an heir and end the regency. [Bearing an heir doesn't get the Ozapfelhian villagers' wealth back, and even if it does, you don't bear an heir overnight. Are they supposed to rob the tithe train for the next nine months?] Falcon embraces the Princess’s duties even though she can’t reclaim her title.
Yet.
If the princess wants to avoid suitors, she could just hide out in Sabryna's castle instead of becoming Sabryna's "agent." You might mention that she would rather be an agent than a queen.
The dynamic among the kingdoms isn't clear. Mordent is from Sabbatus, yet (according to the query submitted earlier) he's the Administrator of the Regency--in Tarishah. Kauril accuses Mordent of treason against Tarishah, but the charge is dismissed by Jurriaan, the king of Fayette. Mordent asks the king of Fayette to cede to him control of Tarishah. Are these three separate kingdoms, each with its own ruler? One could get the impression Tarishah is a province of Fayette.
This sounds like an 800-word synopsis that was reduced to 400, not by eliminating the least important events, but by keeping everything and eliminating the elaboration/explanations. It's an outline; a list. Throw in all the names, and places, and the reader's eyes are quickly glazing over. These seem to be the main plot points:
Barred from assuming the throne of Tarishah until she bears an heir, Princess Kauril flees her power-hungry suitors and takes up residence in Fayette. There she becomes Falcon!, an agent of the mortally ill Queen Sabryna.
The evil sorcerer Mordent, whose land has been decimated by his half-siblings' campaign for power, plots with Fayette's King Jurriaan to drain the coffers of Tarishah in Kauril's absence.
Falcon learns of Mordent's treachery and returns to Tarishah where she tries to get knocked up so she can legally have all her enemies tortured and killed.
Now, develop each of these ideas with specific information, but without adding new people, places, aliases, etc.
New Beginning 378 (short story)
A town perched on a long, high coast anchored 305. Jack Hanson arrived half a mile away, at the edge of a cliff that stooped to a foam-flecked ocean.
Back in 001, the smooth-faced technician had assured him she knew what she was doing. Yet one misstep in the daze that followed transition and he'd have been over.
He extended his arms for balance.
Sweat tickled the back of his neck and the scar where they'd inserted his co-processor itched to distraction. His head was fuzzy at first, but after a few moments the waves below him ceased to brush through it. Tasting the clean salt air, he glanced down at the sea, seeing it roil against rocks tumbled from the chalk cliff.
A stagger over scrubby grass and occasional blue flowers took him to the town. Its plain white houses reminded him of somewhere he'd once known, yet both time and place eluded him.
He wanted something for the itch, but the 830 wasn't open; food would have to distract him. He found a 961. A dump; they were all like this now, even 612. A waitress directed him to 441 where he sat and studied the menu.
"What?" The waitress scowled at him.
"I'll take the 102, the 733 and the 853." He wiped off the sweat with a serviette. He hated the 111 now. How did it get like this? How did the Chinese get so powerful?
Opening: BuffySquirrel....Continuation: Anonymous
Back in 001, the smooth-faced technician had assured him she knew what she was doing. Yet one misstep in the daze that followed transition and he'd have been over.
He extended his arms for balance.
Sweat tickled the back of his neck and the scar where they'd inserted his co-processor itched to distraction. His head was fuzzy at first, but after a few moments the waves below him ceased to brush through it. Tasting the clean salt air, he glanced down at the sea, seeing it roil against rocks tumbled from the chalk cliff.
A stagger over scrubby grass and occasional blue flowers took him to the town. Its plain white houses reminded him of somewhere he'd once known, yet both time and place eluded him.
He wanted something for the itch, but the 830 wasn't open; food would have to distract him. He found a 961. A dump; they were all like this now, even 612. A waitress directed him to 441 where he sat and studied the menu.
"What?" The waitress scowled at him.
"I'll take the 102, the 733 and the 853." He wiped off the sweat with a serviette. He hated the 111 now. How did it get like this? How did the Chinese get so powerful?
Opening: BuffySquirrel....Continuation: Anonymous
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