Face-Lift 455

Guess the Plot

The Crown of Amaratia

1. Supermodel scuba spy Mae Wong tries to save Fiji in a deadly battle with the invasive spiny starfish known as "the Crown of Amaratia" -- but is it really alive? Or is it a plastic robot controlled by Ted Winters, diabolical henchman of the fiend who ate Minneapolis?

2. Billy Jo Bean found the crown while she was cleaning the diner on Friday night. She took it home and put it on Tommy Jack with no idea the terrier might stand up on his hind legs and ask for a copy of Leaves of Grass and a smoking jacket. Now they're investing in Wall Street and planning a trip to Barstow. Will her parents approve?

3. Prince Wendell makes a crown of leaves and flowers to test the virtue of potential brides. If they choose the golden crown or the silver crown -- off with their heads! The result is tragic. After the massacre, he throws all three crowns away and takes a vow of celibacy. Next morning, as he rides a donkey toward the monastery, he sees a homely scullery wench wearing the flower crown. Is she the one? Or is it too late?

4. Entrusted with choosing the next king of the Amaratian Empire, the Prophet chooses Adelbrand's younger brother. But Adelbrand trades his soul for the throne. The Prophet retrieves the soul from the Underworld and then disposes of Adelbrand, and all is right with the world. Or is it? Where are the Half-Elves?

5. Museum director Melinda Tishton has a problem: the celebrated Crown of Amaratia, has vanished right before the opening of the special Amaratian exhibit. Can hunky detective Dirk Nadder help save the day, the museum's reputation . . . and Melinda's heart?

6. Anita Benn is an artist specializing in high-speed photography. Her series of liquid crowns formed by milk droplets is world famous. Looking for something different, she picks up the bottle of Amaratia di Sorrento she bought on her last vacation; vile taste, great colors. But when she develops the film, she sees something within the crown that challenges everything she knows about reality.


Original Version

Dear Agent,

The Prophet doesn't like the Amaratian Empire. In his mind, they're the ones who stole his past from him (quite literally, as he doesn't know anything about who he is) and forced him to live on a mountain to guard its future. [The mountain's future?]

Unfortunately for him, he's duty bound to the land, so when its king comes to him for help after being blackmailed into abdication, he has no choice. He heads to Amaratia's capital to name the next king.

[King: I'm abdicating the throne.

Adviser: But who will rule the empire, Majesty?

King: This decision will decide the future of us all. It should be made by . . . the Prophet!

Adviser: The Prophet?

King: He's this guy who lives on a mountain and doesn't even know who he is.

Adviser: Yes, we must consult the Prophet.]

And instead of naming the eldest prince, Adelbrand, as the king, he passes the throne on to the youngest prince, supported solely by the [belief that the empire would be a laughingstock if it had a king named Adelbrand.] book written by Fate herself. [Why don't the people just use this book by Fate herself to decide the next king, instead of seeking out the Prophet, who uses the book anyway?]

The only people who could be willing to ally themselves with the Prophet against Adelbrand (who seizes the throne even though he's warned that it could tear Amaratia apart at the seams) are the Half-Elves, [What's the half that isn't elf?] but they've moved on in search of prosperity. After a fruitless search in the desert that turns up a lost kingdom and almost ends up killing him and his companions several times, the Prophet decides to head back to the capital in hopes that he'll find support in the ranks of the nobles. [The Half-Elves are gone, the search is fruitless, the Prophet survives . . . In short, nothing happens. We can do without this paragraph.]

However, Adelbrand doesn't just have the support of the people behind him; he also has the support of [Poodleweiss,] one of the most powerful deities. After trading his soul for the Amaratian throne, it seems that he is unstoppable. [Unstoppable in his quest to do what? Is he out to destroy the empire? If he's a bad guy, why are the people and the nobles and Poodleweiss all on his side?] Nevertheless, the Prophet elects to go down to the Underworld to retrieve it.

He manages to retrieve said soul, but only after completing a holy obstacle course involving an endless pit, [How do you get out of an endless pit?] demons, a volcano, and many vows never to get involved Amaratia again. The ex-king is disposed of, [Which ex-king? The one who asked for the Prophet's help, or Adelbrand? And what do you mean "disposed of"? You bring Adelbrand his lost soul only to dispose of him? If you had the power to dispose of him, you could have disposed of him without enduring the pit of despair and the volcano and the demons.] his brother rightfully takes the throne, and all seems to be well in the land. For now, anyway.

The Crown of Amaratia is a fantasy novel and the first of the Prophecy Trilogy. It is complete at 80,000 words. I await your reply.

All the best,


Notes

Who blackmailed the king? Adelbrand?

If you're blackmailing the king into abdicating, wouldn't you also blackmail him into naming you the new king? You've got something on the king so damning that he's willing to give up the throne but he balks at letting you take over?

Shouldn't the Amaratian Empire have an emperor instead of a king?

When you go to the Underworld to retrieve a soul, what's the procedure? Just ask Poodleweiss for it? What if he says No? Even if you get the soul, and return it to its rightful owner, Adelbrand wasn't so hot with a soul, as he was willing to give it up for the throne.

Is the book by Fate the standard means of choosing a leader? The people don't seem to have any respect for it. Or for the Prophet. They're all on Adelbrand's side (except, possibly, the Half-Elves) Apparently they don't think he's such a bad guy. Everyone is in favor of Adelbrand taking over, yet when the Prophet returns from the Underworld, he's able to dispose of Adelbrand? Where are Adelbrand's allies and armies now?

New Beginning 407

The magic bullet slammed into the back of Lenny Flooper’s right leg. It exploded through the other side with a spray of blood and fragmented kneecap, effectively ending his mad dash escape.

Lenny stumbled. His arms, hampered by age and untreated bursitis, were slow to react, and he did a face plant into the base of a cycadeoid tree, a common specimen of the Early Cretaceous Period.
The cycadeoid was at least sixty feet tall, and it stood at the edge of a steep embankment along with other, equally authentic-looking prehistoric flora. The tops of these cycadeoids fanned out into wide fern-like vinyl fronds that tangled high above the jungle floor. During the day, the canopy they formed blocked all but the most dramatic shafts of sunlight, a spectacular effect as viewed from the seat of a speeding coaster train. Tonight though, the canopy blotted out the inky sky. And the fireworks.

When he finally regained consciousness, it was the crackle of fireworks bursting overhead that Lenny initially mistook for the sound of his skull crumbling.

Using tree branches for support, Lenny pulled himself up, telling his brain to ignore the pain. A stray firework whizzed past his ear leaving a colorful trail of sparks and singed skin on his face.

He needed to get out of there, but with his shattered knee, all he could do was walk in circles. His foot landed in something soft and ripe. The smell told him some kind of animal had passed by recently. A sudden roar told him very recently. A fucking dinosaur!

Summoning all his strength, Lenny hobbled away from the sound of the creature. He stumbled into brush and found himself rolling down an embankment. He came to rest on cold, hard concrete.

"Do you need help, sir?"

Lenny tried to focus on the voice; dust and gravel in his eyes had blinded him. "Where am I?"

"Crazy Al's Antediluvian Autopark, sir. What can we do for you?"

Lenny groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position. "I just need a way to get home."

"Well sir, you've come to the right place. This must be your lucky day!"


Opening: blogless_troll.....Continuation: ril

Success Story

The author of the book featured in Face-Lift 216 reports that the book will be released by Drollerie Press as an e-book November 25, 2007 and as a paperback in April next year.

New Beginning 406

The survey crew described Horizon Prime as Shangri-La -- a planet of tropical rainforests, fresh water lakes and trees -- many over a thousand feet tall.

Tran-Lux teleports its negotiating teams to the surface of the planet because they believe that naive natives are impressed by humans appearing in a burst of white light. Teleport is painful and sometimes we appear cringing and screaming and sometimes we evacuate our bodies and reek of ass. This time however, we were a handsome bunch -- knotted muscular faces, muscle-bound buff bodies and prehensile chimpanzee-like feet for swinging on vines and living in the canopy of the trees. The natives wore grass ropes on their biceps, ankles and foreheads. They covered their genitals with gourd-like Kotekas -- some long, some short, some curved, some thick. We were naked and our dicks dangled in the wind. I hate naked worlds.

I spoke first.

"We, ah, come in peace . . . " I said. That's what I always say, whether they understand it or not. Rules.

The natives were already staring at us, attracted by the light from the teleport before we could even focus. Now they seemed to be getting animated. Our presence had clearly aroused their interest; they began to jump up and down and shout in unfamiliar whoops and screams.

The leader approached us, seeming particularly excited. I also took a step forward. Then I noticed, this one was completely out of his gourd. And yes, he was very excited. That's when I also noticed, there didn't appear to be any females here.

I had a sudden feeling teleportation wasn't going to seem so painful after today.


Opening: Dave Fragments.....Continuation: Anonymous

Face-Lift 454

Guess the Plot

Stellar

1. Venus decides the world needs enchanted lipstick, so she starts a makeup company: Stellar. But will FDA chief geek Bud Jones ever approve her products? Perhaps he will, once Cupid shoots him.

2. Dig Redden is perfectly happy with his job selling rotting vegetables, so when his family arranges an intervention he's afraid his life will collapse like a dying star--until he meets a stellar woman who teaches him to use a telescope.

3. For as long as anyone can remember, Aunt Marge has been telling jokes about a giant talking iguana that lives in the tree out back. But when she goes missing and Todd flies to Orlando to investigate, he discovers the beast is real. And so is the broken space ship in the barn.

4. Collum Muntz blows his savings on an '89 Hyundai Stellar GXL. But his days earning money on a premium rate chatline and his nights in the garage returning his dream car to factory condition take their mental toll and his relationship with seductive obsessive Stella the Stellar starts to raise questions, both in town and in the Journal of Psychiatric Medicine.

5. Abby Starr meant to give her crush, Robert, a thrill of passion but they had a little misunderstanding about time. When she crept naked into the appointed bedroom it was occupied by the wrong person -- Brenda, the screaming wife. Innovating wildly, Abby quickly declared her love for Brenda and was surprised with a thrill of passion. Should she carry on both affairs, secretly? Or just propose a threesome?

6. Stellar Hooch -- squeezed from the innards of stars, distilled with the essence of comets and smuggled throughout the galaxy in genuine oak barrels by Buck Turgidstan is implicated in the bathtub drowning of four Federation Council members. Now Buck is on the run and only Sister Mary Steubbing can save his neck from the noose.


Original Version

Dear Evil Editor:

Douglass “Dig” Redden doesn’t use drugs and seldom drinks. So why, he wonders, has his wife Molly secretly planned to make him the subject of an “intervention picnic”? [Also, he wonders how it is he's in on the "secret" plans.] He soon finds out as friends and family close in, and over the course of a single week leading up to the event, he is drawn into a bewildering engagement with life. My novel of mainstream fiction, “Stellar” (91,000), though tragic at times, contains a thread of dark humor throughout, similar in style and tone to the work of authors such as Gary Shteyngart and Richard Russo. I believe its themes of adaptation, immigration, and formulating a place in modern society [AKA adaptation] will appeal to a wide audience.

Dig Redden, the man, has decelerated. [The man? Is there another Dig Redden who's a cheetah?] In fact, with both heels burrowing into the details of his life, he has brought it to a wheezing stop. [Presumably this is an attempt to use the idiom "Dig in one's heels," which might literally be applied to a tug of war contest, in which the team being pulled digs in their heels to keep from being moved. I don't think "burrowing" works well, as it suggests actual digging of a hole. Even if we change it to "digging," the important point to know is not what he's digging his heels into, but what force is pulling him where. Also, has his life actually come to a wheezing stop? Do they call him Dig because of the way he digs in his heels? What I'm saying is, I think we can do without that sentence.] His marriage collapsing and career in ruins, his days are now reduced to selling rotting vegetables from a stand along the Delaware River – and he believes he has never been happier. [Fresh vegetables would probably sell better, but hey, if you can sell rotting vegetables, more power to you.] [ Out of curiosity, does a customer shopping at a Rotting Vegetables stand tend to choose the least rotten of the vegetables? Or, having gone there specifically for rotting vegetables, does he thus choose vegetables well on their way to complete rottenness?] But Dig finds that life is not kind to quitters, and the harder he struggles to extract himself from society, the deeper he is drawn in by the cast Molly has assembled. His mentally fading father, Archie, returns, nearly bringing a jetliner crashing down upon his arrival. [I can't get on an airliner with my quart bottle of wart remover, but they let the mentally fading board with shoulder-launched missiles?] Dig finds his [father's] quirks - turning to a retired racehorse for medical advice, a penchant for eating his own hair [He gets his medical advice from Dr. Fager and his hair cut by Barbaro.] - alternately repulsive and heartrending, but ultimately he is affected most by seeing in the man a Dickensian ghost of his own future. His friend and former co-worker, Royce, a man who suspiciously survived the office purge that Dig did not, is willing to help him get back on track. That is, if in return Dig will assist him with a small ‘federal matter’. [This paragraph is longer than some books I've read.] Amidst this turmoil (including several run-ins with the local police), Dig hires a young Princeton astronomy student, Hannah Cho, to instruct him in the use of an expensive telescope that has languished untouched in a corner since the previous Christmas. [Point that end at the sky. Look in this end. That'll be ninety dollars.] He finds himself drawn to the girl, sensing her superior grasp of modern life may be what saves him before his life collapses in upon itself completely like a dying star. While the antagonistic forces of family and friends pull at Dig, he finds his only relief in the time spent with Hannah, discussing the stellar sky as well as their own small worlds. As the two of them struggle to find a path for their respective futures, tragedy unfolds, altering it for both of them.

My first major short story publication, “Copperhead”, is forthcoming in the winter 2007 edition of Rosebud Magazine. I have two additional credits, ["Water Moccasin" and "Black Mamba"] “Under” in July 2005 edition of The City Writers Review, and “Rivers” in the August 2006 issue of You Essays on-line.

I am hard at work on my second novel, a story involving hippopotamus, blueberries, and self-delusion. [Stellar schmellar. I'll buy the hippo book sight-unseen.]

Thank you for you [your] consideration, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,


Notes

It's too long. What can we do without?

1. Gary Shteyngart and Richard Russo

2. Royce

3. The local police

4. Charles Dickens

5. Hippopotamus

That leaves us with our main character, down and out, yet somehow happy. His wife, Molly, arranges an intervention starring his friends and family. He arranges his own intervention starring a college babe, which, against all odds, goes much better than Molly's intervention. Then tragedy strikes, leaving everyone miserable, as required in literary fiction.

New Beginning 405

She clung to the shadow of the cottonwood tree as the sun rose high in the sky. Each time the shade inched from her, she crept. She’d started to the left of the trunk at sunrise, when the light was gold and crimson, filtered through clouds of dust. Now, the sun hung directly overhead and shade had all but vanished.

Sweat sopped the lining of her dress. Wind burned the skin along her nose, where sweat dripped and salt dried. She pressed her wet back against the trunk and shifted her weight from one aching foot to the other.

The baby kicked. She cupped her belly.

“Soon,” she whispered, her head tipped toward her hand. “Soon.”

She stood until the sun crawled left and the shade stretched right. It wasn’t much. The leaves above withered in the heat and sun pierced their canopy in the unchecked wind. But that tree was all she had on the blistering plain where he’d left her.

"Soon," she said again, this time more to herself than to her impatient passenger.

But the sun continued its march across the sky and the shadows lengthened. The humidity bore down on her, buckling her legs and forcing her to the unyielding ground.


Movement on the horizon; an indistinct shape, blurred by the sweat clinging to her eyelashes. It swayed and tumbled and grew until it filled her field of vision. She heard a voice that caused every sinew to tense, every nerve to burn . . .

"Sorry love, they were all out of strawberry. I got you vanilla, is that OK? It's mostly melted now; I had to keep licking it. There was a sale at the Apple Store -- you should see those new iPods: couldn't drag myself away . . . What?"


Opening: KMF.....Continuation: Anonymous

Face-Lift 453

Guess the Plot

Hench

1. Hench Williams has made a career of running the organizations of supervillains. But now super heroes and supervillains are disappearing, thanks to the evil overlord known as The Magnate. Worst of all, the media have decided that Hench is the Magnate. Can Hench prevent The Magnate from achieving world domination?

2. When the people of Plainville become completely desperate with boredom, they call on Trudy Hench, actress and playwright extraordinaire, to stage a production of her latest work. Soon everyone in town has a spear and a costume or a jar of blue goop and is learning lines. They're going to burn the whole village in a romantic opera celebrating the Roman invasion of Britain.

3. The One Big Problem that kept Professor Hench from taking over the world was Lucille, his neurotically skeptical wife. Now that she has run off to Mexico with the landscape guy, the Professor readies his costume and guitar and prepares for his final transformation into a reincarnation of the world's greatest rocker -- Chuck Berry.

4. Basement recluse Drew Hench inherits a run-down villa in southern Italy and three adorable children from his cousin. While attempting to dig a new basement under the villa, he discovers a talking harp with oracular powers, which advises a hasty departure, but Drew does not believe. Too bad. Two carloads of Mafia thugs are on their way to kidnap the children and Mt. Vesuvius will soon be erupting.

5. Undercover cop Steve Hench infiltrates a gang of poodle snatchers. He must break up their international smuggling ring before his evil twin "The Hound" succeeds in taking over France, one kennel at a time.

6. At Hench, one of London’s toughest boarding schools, four tenacious boys invent a fictitious bully named Ivan. Touting tales of his knack for breaking noses, the boys dangle Ivan over the heads of the other students, rising to the top of the social food chain. But all that power is too much to handle, and the boys turn on each other.


Original Version

Dear Ms. Anthrope:

I am seeking representation for my superhero novel, Hench, incomplete at 13,390 words and counting.

Running an evil empire isn't easy. Harry "Hench" Williams has made a career of it--keeping villainous organizations running smoothly while his superpowered employers plot and cackle their way to world domination. [Hey, it's a living.] Such plots rarely pan out, though, and Hench has just received the latest in a long series of pink slips.

But the criminal underworld has bigger problems than the capture of Doctor Maniac. [Who? Okay, I've figured out who, but to make it easier on readers, you might add to the previous sentence: . . . thanks to the capture of his latest employer, Doctor Maniac. Then in the current sentence you can change his name to Dr. M.] Superpowered villains and heroes alike are disappearing. [Heroes disappearing is hardly a problem for the criminal underworld.] The newspapers are hot on the trail of The Magnate, an overlord so mysterious that even Hench has never met him. Worst of all, Hench has gotten word that his most psychotic ex-boss has escaped from prison...the one who swore to kill him when he got out. [Although we can figure out that it's not the prison who swore to kill him, it might be better to say: Worst of all, Hench has gotten word that his most psychotic ex-boss--who has sworn to kill him--has escaped from prison.]

Before Hench knows what's happening, his sister is in jail, his friends are disappearing, and the cops are breaking down his door. Not a great week. To top it off, an overzealous media has decided that "The Magnate" is none other than a man with a hand in every supervillain's affairs...one Harry Williams.

I would have included a synopsis and sample pages if they were already written, and I should be able to send sample chapters by request, assuming I don't wipe out sometime in mid-November. Thank you for your time and consideration. Happy NaNoWriMo to all, and to all a good night!


Notes

Hope you stuck with it; it sounds like fun.

New Beginning 404

"So you will correct the bodice, at no extra charge?"

"No, Miss Marsh, I a-makin' the change you ask me at no extra charge . . . as a courtesy," said Shama Non.

"Say it however you wish, but see if I recommend you to anyone." The bride-to-be left in yet another snit.

Right, Miss, I do you an exquisite dress at a reduced price to favor your Pa and you chisel me. Yes, I will fix the bodice.

Shama selected a sewing kit hidden under a drawer. She disassembled the bodice and with special thread sewed a hexagram on the interface between the layers. Within the hexagram she sewed symbols of two left feet, two interlaced rings and a stop-hex. Then she made changes to the original design demanded by the bride.

Don't break nothing when you go a-trippin' down the aisle . . . brat.

“Wasso funny, woman?” Shama’s husband, Tur, came up behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Ahhh. You a-fixin’ s’mbody wiffa tooleffit. Heh-heeeh. Dat no a-workin’ lass time, ’member?” He belched near her ear. The smell of crawfish overwhelmed her as Tur heh-heeeh-ed his way outside.

But he was right. Shama didn’t want to give the little brat any chance. She bit her lip and scrunched her eyebrows, and then it came to her. She unstitched the bodice once more and sewed another, larger hexagram. Inside this one she stitched an open manhole, an oil slick and a discarded banana peel.

Now you not even a-makin’ it to the aisle . . . bitch.


Opening: Bill Highsmith.....Continuation: blogless_troll

Face-Lift 452

Guess the Plot

Nextville

1. Beatniks Jack, Tom, Steve and Lou pile into a car with their girlfriend Joanie at the wheel and leave Squaresville behind. They're on a mission to find the coolest joint with the hippest groove to recite poetry in, unaware of the vampires waiting in . . . Nextville.

2. Seven prisoners escape the Tower of London with the help of a mysterious specter and steal a ship, on his advice. But will the recommended course put them in a pleasant Nextville or some place more like frozen Hell? Mary doesn't want to know. She alters the charts, hoping for a trip to Paris.

3. Charlotte feels like she's spent her whole eleven years in the back of her mom's station wagon, living on take-out and home-schooled in motel rooms. As the miles roll by she invents in her head that mythical next town where they'll finally settle down and be happy. But the Nextville of Charlotte's daydreams has a sinister side.

4. In frontier America, Emma Brown has spent her life telling fake fortunes in a traveling circus populated by demons and fiends. Now the Spook Patrol is on their trail, trying to shut them down. It's business as usual: time to pack up the troupe, get out of town, and hope things go better in . . . Nextville.

5. A ghostly driver and his haunted bus carry sixteen passengers from Fargo to Nextville, a kind of purgatory where everyone creates shocking secrets to confront in the future, but nothing Amy does goes bad. Her attempts to tryst turn into wrong-place-wrong-time comedies; she keeps rescuing people instead of murdering them; her would-be swindles turn into grief counseling sessions. How will she ever get home?

6. Everyone knows that Superman comes from Smallville and Batman from Gotham City. But when you're a fifth-tier superhero like Harry Handle, AKA The Human Helper for his ability to transform himself into a wheelbarrow, you're pretty much stuck in Iowa . . . until the aliens attack.


Original Version

Dear Mr. Bookpimp:

I am seeking representation for my young adult historical fantasy, Nextville, complete at 75,000 words.

It's 1843. America is populating its frontier, the government-backed Spook Patrol is reining in all those pesky supernatural creatures, [The creatures may call it the Spook Patrol, but the government would call it the Paranormal Entity Subjugation Task-force--and so should you.]and the most popular form of entertainment is the traveling circus.

Emma Brown, proudly human, [Can't she be proud of something a little more specific than her species?] has spent her fifteen years of life [All fifteen?] telling fake fortunes, feeding the manticore, and mending costumes for the demons and imps that make up the performers in Nick Leeds' Spectacular Circus of Fiends. She used to love it. Now new regulations have Marshal Barrett of the Spook Patrol breathing down their necks. Business is suffering. Their performers are being arrested. [I would reverse those two sentences. It's probably the lack of performers that leads to a downturn in business. I hate going to the circus and finding out all the performers are in jail.] Everything she's ever known [Everything? How about: Her way of life . . . ] is being threatened.

She's always wondered how she came into the care of the circus. As she takes increasingly daring steps to learn about her past, she finds that the satyr who raised her, Nick Leeds, [The satyr? In a book with fantastical creatures, you might make it clear whether Nick's just a lecher or an actual goat-man. (Needless to say, it would be far more interesting if he were part goat, like this guy.)] [Actually, I think a man's body with a goat's head would be more amusing.]becomes less and less honest. If she can't trust the only family she's ever known, maybe she'll do better with the one she never did.

There's trouble in the Spook Patrol too. Gabriel Ramirez has been working with Marshal Barrett since childhood, [Emma's been telling fortunes her entire fifteen years. Gabriel and Marshal have been working together since childhood. Does everyone in this world emerge from the womb with a career?] but, being a half-demon himself, the new anti-demon laws have him spooked. He's not sure if Barrett can protect him from their fanatical new supervisor--and worse, he's not sure whether Barrett would even bother. After he makes a devastating mistake on the job, he goes on the run...but he only knows one place that might help a monster like him.

I have enclosed a few sample pages and would be pleased to provide a synopsis and sample chapters at your request; the manuscript is also available electronically. I have enclosed a self-addressed stamped envelope for your reply. Thank you for your time and consideration.


Notes

There's not much connection between the plot paragraphs. If this is YA, you might want to ditch the Gabriel paragraph and stick with Emma. If she and Gabriel have an important relationship, bring him in, but make sure it's clear that Emma's the star. She disappears here.

You should also decide whether learning about her past or dealing with PEST is the plot, and focus mainly on that. One of these is probably a subplot, worthy of passing mention, but not at the expense of what the book is really about.

New Beginning 403

Cracks, quacks, spurrucks, all of them, those prophets. Lots of folk disagree with me, of course, because the prophets are always right--once in a while. I’ve heard a lot of stories about prophets and only one where the prophecy came true. But I guess that doesn’t matter now, because I’m going to see a friend. He’s a prophet, the only prophet I’ll put up with. I have a hot and sick feeling in my stomach as I spur my horse into a trot. . .

Mysin’s horse struggled at the bit and tried to turn off the path. If Mysin hadn’t had a strong grip on the reins, he would have been run into a nearby cluster of aspens. Cigell, the horse, huffed and went back on track, but he wouldn’t move any faster than a brisk trot, no matter how Mysin kicked and swore. Mysin sighed and removed his hat so he could rid himself of the sweat gathering on his forehead.

The Rigas Mountains rose, jagged and misty, on either side of him. Rigas Canyon was to the right and down a steep slope.

I'll once again talk to myself and complain. Switching points of view within my story is my prerogative. I've read a lot of stories where the points-of-view switched, but only I have succeeded in going so quickly from first-person, describing my last physical action to an omniscient recalling of the events. Thank God for italics. I might as well do it again . . . But this time with a horse! This stupid horse can do more than a brisk trot . . .

Cigell seemed to have read Mysin's mind, for he sped up, but then Cigell abruptly slowed to a walk.

Slobs, snobs, slackards, all of them, those humans. I'll teach Mysin to swear, kick, and call me stupid. Let's see how slow we can go. Wait, maybe he'd enjoy it if I tried to jump across Rigas Canyon.


Opening: Nagomey.....Continuation: Xiexie

Face-Lift 451

Guess the Plot

Watermen

1. Epic primeval battles rage as Airmen, Firemen and Earthmen seek dominion over the planet. Meanwhile, Watermen keep a low profile and successfully maintain a posture of neutrality throughout, and so prevail. Plus an epilogue regarding Light vs Darkness, and a cameo appearance by Aquaman.

2. Three mermaids come ashore when their cove is invaded by Watermen from the deep. The mermaids rent a cottage in exchange for pearls and soon they've charmed everyone, but when people start disappearing from the beaches the mermaids realize they must return to the sea and vanquish the . . . Watermen.

3. In the year 8920, peace reigns. Thanks to global warming, the entire planet is underwater except for Land World, a theme park in Nepal. Man himself has evolved, and now consists of 100% water. When the salt water men go to war with the fresh water men, dolphins refuse to take sides, knowing they soon will rule Earth at last.

4. By 2070 fresh water is in short supply everywhere on earth. But Mars is even drier. The water Mafia are scheming to suck up Lake Michigan and zap it into Machine H2X, to be smuggled onto the next transport and removed from earth forever.

5. Karl Alexander is the ultimate stud: 6'2", 190, bench presses 1200 pounds, loves to cook. Now all the ladies on LoveNest are eager to meet him. But how will he tell them that he's really the guy who shuts off the tap when they're late on the water bill?

6. In a town where dragons guard the only water supply, Chray risks life and limb every day to procure water for the people. Hey, it's a living. Except, now Chray has fallen for the mayor. Is it time to look for a safer line of work, one that doesn't involve fire-breathing monsters?


Original Version

Dear Agent Anyone:

I am seeking representation for my fantasy novel, Watermen, complete at 64,000 words.

Water is life. In the desert town of Gray, the only source of water is a series of underground lakes guarded by fearsome dragons. [It's Dune, but with dragons instead of worms. I can see desert towns in Dune; the whole planet's a desert. But why do your characters live in a desert?

Mayor: We need to move somewhere where we won't be bothered by others. A new settlement. But where? Anybody got a suggestion?

Townsperson: How about in the middle of the desert?

Mayor: There's no water in the desert, idiot. Water is life.

Townsperson: No, air is life. Take away a man's water, he will continue breathing air. Take away his air, he will quickly lose interest in drinking water. Besides, the place I have in mind has water.

Mayor: You mean an oasis?

Townsperson: No, an underground lake guarded by fearsome dragons.

Mayor: Anybody else got a suggestion?]

Chray and her fellow devil-bird riders evade, distract, and battle dragons every day in order to bring water to their village. It's a good system, [Yeah, great system.] Chray thinks--she's saving lives every day, and earning a quick ticket to an afterlife that will be much more comfortable than her earthly one. But a recent spate of deaths makes her wonder how much longer the system can last.

After an injured dragon drags her far out into the desert, [So that's why they call them dragons.] she chooses to set off on a gruelling trek in hopes of finding a better way of life, [For herself or her people?] rather than return to a doomed status quo. The place she finds is lush, rich...and completely bewildering. No one has ever heard of Gray. There are no devil-birds. And they think dragons are extinct. She's lost and alone, and her only skills are useless.

Then dragons start appearing along the river for the first time in four hundred years. Someone has to stop them. Chray's spent a lifetime brashly risking death for the sake of others, but no one here trusts her. [When your town is overrun by dragons, and someone offers to get rid of them, screw trust issues. Just pay her whatever she's asking.] She can't protect the river towns and save Gray at the same time. [The other watermen can save Gray. The river settlements need . . . Waterwoman! Yes, Waterwoman, the superhero with the power to cause neap tides, to ruin hardwood floors, and to make toilets overflow.] And the handsome young mayor is giving her the strange feeling that she might not want to move on to heaven quite so quickly.... [Is this the mayor of Gray or the mayor where she is now? Does she have any idea how to get back to Gray?]

I have enclosed a few sample pages and would be pleased to provide a synopsis and sample chapters at your request; the manuscript is also available electronically. I have enclosed a self-addressed stamped envelope for your reply. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Notes

I don't like Gray and Chray sounding so alike. When I got to "No one has ever heard of Gray," I couldn't remember ever hearing of it myself. I thought it was a character. Change it to Milwaukee. Is Chray pronounced Kray or Tray?

How can Chray help with the dragons in a place that has no devil-birds?

You wouldn't think a bird that's already carrying a person could carry very much water. Water's really heavy. Experiment: Hold a bucket of water in each hand and stretch your arms out parallel to the ground. How long can you last? Now imagine you're doing it while riding a bird and fighting a dragon. Don't spill any.

The title makes me think all of the watermen are important characters. How much of the book takes place after Chray is separated from the other watermen?

Are the watermen the people who get water? Obviously they aren't all men. They're waterpeople. Wait! Water Bodies! There's your title.

Novel Deviations 3

I've chosen the New Beginnings I feel are worthy of inclusion in Novel Deviations 3. Four of the opening authors declined to be included, but two had no objection to my editing their opening till it was unrecognizable as their work, so that I could use the continuation. One of them didn't like the continuation. The others are trying to sell their books, and seem to feel having 150 words of it published by EE would hurt their chances.

Allow me to ease the concerns any of you may have in this regard.

1. Virtually everyone who submits an opening is still trying to sell their work.

2. Excerpts from soon-to-be-published books appear in print all the time. Not just brief 150-word excerpts like you might see in a book review; also entire chapters. Chapter 1 of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire appeared in Newsweek. Apparently the publisher felt that this would help sales. They were right; it sold well. Short story anthologies consist mainly of stories that have previously been published in books and magazines. Not just brief excerpts, the entire stories!

3. I'll be printing 150 copies of Novel Deviations 3, and I expect to sell half that many, entirely to people who visit this blog. I doubt any publisher will be aware this obscure book exists. (Meanwhile, your opening sits on this blog which has had close to 800,000 visits. )

4. Chances are you changed your opening after getting feedback here anyway. Or should have.

5. No reason you can't use ND3 as a publication credit.

6. If your book does get published, and the opening appeared here, we will trumpet your success (as has happened several times), and readers of this blog may go out and buy your book. Your publisher will be pleased that you have done something to increase sales.

New Beginning 402

Pete stopped talking long enough to hold four fingers up to the passing waitress and order. "Tsing Dao." She nodded and shuffled off to the bar. Beer fumes rattled up from Matt's stomach and filled his nose with the cloying smell of yeast.

"Listen Matt, really. You should just move over here. The place is a fucking goldmine; you can't fail to make a killing. Everyone I know here's raking it in." He leaned forward and crushed his cigarette into the ashtray. "I've a good mind to quit myself, set up a little business of my own. Tell him, Poppy."

Poppy told him. "It's easy to be rich man in Shanghai. Just need a little money."

Matt's head buzzed like an off-channel TV; it was getting harder to keep track of the conversation, and he'd lost count of how many beers they'd had. Craving salt, he reached for the cocktail snacks. His fingers, out of radio contact with his brain, caught the edge of the serving bowl and sent peanuts skittering across the table. Poppy looked at him and smiled.

The bar lights were turned down so low, Matt felt like a moth, drawn to the tea-light candle burning on the table in front of them. He was fascinated by the way it flickered in the draft, the way the smoky stickiness in his eyes painted an orange halo around the flame. He'd achieved a pleasant state of drunkenness, a moderate alcoholic high from where he could look down with disinterest at everything around him; from where things could only get worse.

The literary agency scam had worked for years, but Google was ruining everything. He had a garage full of manuscripts that suckers had paid him to represent, easy money while it lasted. If he moved to Shanghai, he could sell the manuscripts in China, keep the profit, and still not have to actually work for a living.

Matt sprinkled salt on his palm and licked it, wishing that he had a shot of tequila to go with it. "So I could use my real name. I wouldn't have to go by Robert Fletcher anymore?"

Poppy leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Chinese people, they think they buy Harry Potter book. You sell them shit from slush pile. Author never know. We make big money, Matt. You be big publisher."




Opening: ril.....Continuation: Anonymous

Face-Lift 450

Guess the Plot

Wild Domain

1. Someone has hacked into St. Eustasian's website and Sister Cecilia is determined to uncover the perpetrator. When she learns that Sister Vivian is the culprit, and that on-line porn sales are paying for the school's new boiler, will she try to shut down The Wild Domain? Or should the money be put into pension accounts for retired nuns?

2. Aunt Rosaspina is at war with the wild spirits that inhabit her house, so she hires her niece, Amanda, to install spot lighting and patio doors, hoping that will eradicate the spirits.

3. Zombie alligators crawl from their swamps to the subways of New York, consuming everyone in their path. They're the minions of Dr. Hannah Wild. She's taking over the world. Meanwhile, a daring team of meteorologists and astronauts struggle to bring a great blizzard from Winnipeg that will turn the monsters to ice.

4. Net entrepeneur Carl DiSalvo can handle anything: hackers, IT geeks, cybersquatters. But can he handle Shandra Teagle, the fiery redhead assistant he just hired?

5. The world's greatest chess player, Guido Goldberg, is also a sumo wrestler. When his plane crashes in the most remote Amazon, he has only a crazy terrorist for company -- Judy Green, the notorious Luddite. Will it be soon be checkmate, baby? Or will these bitter enemies unite for survival? Also, a curare frog and piranhas.

6. Paul and Mary Bland, a nondescript couple in the plain-jane village of Under-Whickersham, invent a surprisingly good Bland Omelet with local cheese and free range eggs. In order to bring this omelet to the world through the Internet they must battle with the Sorcerer of the Wild Domain, the blandest villain of them all.


Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

I would like to submit my 75,000-word fantasy novel, WILD DOMAIN, for your consideration.

Single mother Amanda has come to deepest Suffolk [Deepest? It sounds mysterious, like darkest Africa, but really, how deep into Suffolk can you go before you're out of Suffolk?] to renovate an old house for her Aunt Rosaspina. It's the perfect way to escape from her domineering parents, earn some money, and keep an eye on her daughter Minette during the summer holidays. [I'm not sure I agree that the perfect way to keep an eye on your kid is to renovate a house. I wouldn't be surprised if the kid vanished.]

At first the building work goes almost too well. Amanda is able to ignore Minette's strange tales of ghosts in the attic and a gardener who isn't supposed to exist. But Aunt Rosaspina keeps putting off her arrival. She won't say why, but Amanda hears a threatening voice in the background on the phone - a voice that doesn't sound human. [I get that voice all the time. It says, "Hello. I'm trying to contact . . . " Then another voice says, "Mildred Dunham." Then the first voice comes back and says, " . . . about an important business matter." Then they tell me to call them. I have no idea who Mildred Dunham is, but I agree that the voices aren't human.] Then Minette, playing hide and seek, climbs into one of the new kitchen cupboards, shuts the door, and vanishes. [Toldja.] The police say she must have wandered off, but Amanda knows something far stranger has hapened.

She learns that the house is home to a family of wild spirits with whom Aunt Rosaspina is at war. [How does she learn this?] By employing Amanda to destroy the house's magical features by putting in spot lighting and patio doors, Aunt Rosaspina hopes to eradicate the spirits, but she hasn't told Amanda any of the rules.

Fighting to get Minette back, Amanda tries to outwit the hostile spirits in a game where every move changes reality for ever. But this conflict isn't black and white, and Amanda can't tell which side she ought to be on. What is Aunt Rosaspina really fighting for, and should she be allowed to succeed? And if she doesn't, can Amanda ever get her daughter back?

The full manuscript is available upon request. Thank you for your time.

Yours sincerely,


Notes

Renovating an old house sounds like a big job for a single mother to take on during her daughter's summer vacation, especially as she's doing this in part to earn some money, which suggests she's not in the business of renovating old houses.

Not clear why spot lighting and patio doors would eradicate spirits. If you don't want to explain that in the query, you might just say that she hopes modernizing the place will drive the spirits elsewhere.

Otherwise, I thought this was well done. Though I wouldn't mind a hint of what is meant by "a game where every move changes reality." That may be what separates this from other haunted house stories.

New Beginning 401

He shrank in size from twelve foot to six. The gutters could wait. He got down on one knee to get as close to eye contact with his daughter as possible.

"We've discussed this before, honey. Fifty years ago a super power like mine would have put me in the front rank of superheroes, but growing to twelve feet and being able to press 800 pounds just doesn't cut it any more. Now my power just gets me my job as a nightclub bouncer. There are so many more superheroes with far greater powers.

"Still, the job pays well and the hours are good. I can be there when you get out of school."

"But other kids have dad who are superheroes..."

"I'm not those dads, and I don't have a fortune so I can just become a superhero if I feel like it. I have a mortgage to pay and a daughter to raise and she's much more important to me than, well, anything."

He rose again to twelve feet and found where he left his hammer.

He shrank down to six feet again. This was an important topic. He got back down on one knee.

“I may not be a great superhero, but I can become super evil. I can take this hammer and kill people while they sleep in their second floor beds. I could carry 800 ponds of TNT into a crowded--”

“Oh yes, daddy! Would you? Our next career day talk is about changing jobs. You would be the best one!”


Opening: D Jason Cooper.....Continuation: Sarah L.

Face-Lift 449

Guess the Plot

Dead Line

1. When Harold Waterman finds three corpses in his garden, it's only the beginning. Before the day is over he'll have crossed the line from living to dead and into a demon-inhabited world whose fate hinges on the actions of a taxi driver.

2. Before it's In this sequel to the enduring Flatland, the gentleman square tries his hand at amateur detecting when a line segment is found dead on the plane. A cast of one- and two-dimensional characters "round out" this terrifying tale of the geometric killer. Also, a rhombus.

3. Trudy was on track for a promotion to full-time lineman with Campbell Power and Light, until she crossed the black and the red and shorted out half of Tuscaloosa. Handsome George has offered to take the blame for the Dead Line, but is there a catch? Can Trudy save her job and learn to trust a guy who's a few watts short of an ampere?

4. On a dare, Ted crossed the line, but now he's dead and an army of zombies is determined to make him their newest recruit. Can Bella LaBod rescue her lover from a fate worse than death? And will she be able to come back to the land of the living after she's ventured beyond the . . . Dead Line?

5. Three dead bodies, all found along a single line of longitude was weird enough. Eight is a pattern. Detective Shorty Reynolds needs to find The Meridian Killer before the line of the dead stretches from one end of the globe to the other.

6. A rare X Class solar flare wipes out the communications satellite that Eliza us using to plan her coming out party. With her cell phone dead and no text messaging, will her guests be left with pot luck meatloaf and garlicky spinach dip from the supermarket for snacks? The fate of the known world is at stake.


Original Version

Dear Mr Evil

When Harold Waterman found three corpses in his garden he didn’t think his day could get any worse, that was until he was assassinated in his pyjamas and learned there are more terrifying places to go than Heaven and Hell. [Heaven isn't all that terrifying, except for the part where if you fall off a cloud you plummet into hell.] It’s lucky for him that his best friend is a demon who can pull some strings, if he can only stop being so sarcastic to God.

[God: I banish you to the fiery depths of hell.

Sarcastic demon: Ooo, I'm soooo scared. I really deserve it, I'm the worst demon ever. At least you didn't banish me to the place more terrifying than heaven or hell.]

Dead Line, complete at 120,000 words is an urban fantasy set in the moden day [modern-day] fictional town of Laverstone. In a lighthearted style, it explores a tale of murder, betrayal and redemption where demons are bad only during works time [Not clear.] and tha fate of the world can hinge on tha [One misspelling of "the" is a typo; twice in nine words is a pattern, and I begin to wonder what tha hell's going on.] actions of a taxi driver.

Several of my stories have been published, most notably "The Werewolves of Westminster" [Never heard of it. Oh, wait, you mean "Tha Werewolves of Westminster," right?] by Torquere Press last year. My first novel "An Ungodly Child" won the regional heat of "Undiscovered Authors" and is due to be published in April 2008. The opening chapter of this can be read through a link on my website, below.

Thank you for taking the time to consider my submission.


Notes

The part where you tell us what happens in your book is two sentences. And I'm not sure the corpses in the garden have much to do with your story. Guy dies, goes somewhere more terrifying than heaven, and might get out with help from his demonic friend. We need more information. Who is Harold Waterman? Who are the corpses? Is the demon his best friend before he dies, or does he meet the demon in the place more terrifying than hell?

Corpses, assassination, hell, demons, murder, betrayal and redemption . . . told in a lighthearted style? I usually think of urban fantasy as more edgy than lighthearted, and I'm not sure why this one should be lighthearted. Maybe when you expand the query you should focus on the lighter aspects of the plot.

A comma isn't right in the first sentence. A possible fix would be to make the comma a dash and delete "that was." Or make it two sentences.

Face-Lift 448

Guess the Plot

Werewolf Snotlards

1. Who cares what the plot is? You know you'd buy anything called "Werewolf Snotlards."

2. Tempted by the chance to win a mug from Evil Editor, a Minion dashes off a query in five minutes flat -- a query for a novel that does not exist. But will the Minion still be eligible for the prize once EE realizes that the query is clearly fake?

3. When the morbidly-obese Werewolf Snotlard discovers that he has a twin, can the two cheery Snotlards eat their way out of Beijing? Or will they be buried beneath a load of snot? Also, a pickle.

4. Pub wench Lottie O'Leary buys ten snotlards from a tiny Frenchman who says if she plants them 'round the house, they'll keep werewolves away. But he lied. By Tuesday midnight ten hungry werewolves are howling at her door. Also, a corduroy hammock.

5. Chef Ted Grossout knows how to get more vegetables into your children, and it's as easy serving up a heaping helping of Werewolf Snotlards. Hundreds of new and exciting recipes, from Zombie Earwax to Weredingo Turds, will have your little ones asking for more.

6. When Stinky and Dwight investigate the commotion behind the dumpster, they discover the mayor of Springfield is actually a rodent-eating werewolf with serious wardrobe issues. Should they scram fast or use Stinky's cell phone to zap her picture to the Springfield Times?


Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

I wrote a query just to get that mug.

When the morbidly-obese boy that some people call Werewolf Snotlard discovers that he has a twin, can the two cheery Snotlards eat their way out of Beijing? Or will the evil, mysterious (and purportedly Irish) Lord Snotlaird bury them beneath a load of… well, snot?

“Werewolf Snotlards” is my debut novel, about when the morbidly-obese boy that some people call Werewolf Snotlard discovers that he has a twin. Immediately upon sitting on his snotty twin, Werewolf Snotlard receives a magical gift and is rushed off to a secret henhouse in Beijing. But Lord Snotlaird has some plans of his own, which include a pickle, a long rope, and at least one bag of ice. But Werewolf Snotlard has his OWN plans. What will he do to Lord Snotlaird? And why is he carrying that hatchet?

At 650,000 words, “Werewolf Snotlards” is a powerful fantasy epic that teaches kids about the power of love, and also about the power of a sharp hatchet. Kids ages 16-and-1/2 to 16-and-6/8 will love this book, and if anyone reads it, it will sell a million copies within the first hour of release.

If you would be interested in reading more, I can send you the first 10 words. Everything else is confidential.

Sincerely,

New Beginning 400!!

Most of the unfortunate events in my life have begun with a phone call from my mother, and today was no exception.

My cell phone was giving out the special ring tone I’d come up with for her—Chopin’s “Funeral March.” I sighed, and left it in my pocket as I walked down the crowded sidewalk. It was a bright sunny day on Telegraph Avenue, and I was headed to the Caffe Med for a double-shot mocha. Oh and to meet up with Scott and Gia. I was currently late, but not by much.

It’s your mother, Cleone said, an intimate whisper in my ear.

“I know.” Still, I didn’t answer it.

She’s going to have your hide if you don’t answer...

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side? I growled. He didn’t answer, and the music continued. Finally, it stopped, then restarted almost immediately.

I dug the phone out of my jeans pocket before Cleone could nag at me again. “Hi, Mom.”

“Sybil,” she breathed into the phone, stretching out the ess. “You must come home right away. Something horrible has happened.”

Toilet's probably backed up again, Cleone sniggered.

"Wise-ass," I hissed. But he was probably right. Sometimes he seemed to know my mother better than I did. For sure he knew her plumbing better.

"My toilet's all plugged up," my mother wailed.

Toldja, Cleone said, having deduced from my expression that he'd been right yet again. Some day I'd like to punch the smirk right off his face. It was just one of a million things he did that annoyed me. Like that insufferable habit of always talking without quotation marks. So pretentious.

"If you can't help me, send Cleone," my mother continued. "He's so good with tools."

Pretentious and handy around the house. If anything, he was looking even more smug now.

we'll have to stop at my place first, he said. i have to pick up my plunger.

Oh, God! There go the capitals now! What a pompous grandstander.


Opening: Calendula.....Continuation: Paul Penna

Face-Lift 447

Guess the Plot

The Study of Saints

1. The initial findings indicate the subjects are all, without exception, deceased, but were, during the course of their lives, generally well behaved.

2. An alien exchange student is Delilah's partner for her senior history project, and his poor understanding of English lands her back in time, on the Mormon migration to Utah.

3. Homeless former supermodel Roxanne Johnson's life is in the toilet. She's addicted to sex, cigarettes, hair dye, pointy shoes, and some very expensive chocolates she cannot begin to afford. She'll never get laid again anyway, so she joins a nunnery. Hilarity ensues.

4. After her family moves into a Irish castle with a moat, 12 year old Sally Jones starts hearing things go bump in the night. Dim glowing figures walk through the walls of her room. Bottles of ink and mysterious tomes written in ancient languages appear by the window. Turns out the tower is haunted by St. Ethelred, the virtuous Viking, and he wants to finish a few projects before he goes to Heaven.

5. Louis and his fancy band of rogues in medieval Rome decide to infiltrate the Vatican. The scheme? 1] Acquire holy relics; 2] take over the world. Failing that, maybe they'll just rule France.

6. The saints held off the Emim, who were trying to take over the Earth a millenium ago, but now they're back, and only one man, Michael Blake, has the power to stop them this time. By studying the saints, can he figure out how to save us all from the dreaded Emim? Also, a dreadlocked dragon bartender.


Original Version

Dear Mr./Ms. Agent,

I thought that you may be interested in my novel The Study of Saints. As such, I would like to offer it to you for review.

Michael Blake has fallen from the map of the World. Awake, he is unseen and finds the spaces his life once held have been filled by strangers. [That sounds interesting, but unclear. If he's literally become invisible and has been replaced, I'd rather you said so more concretely instead of using language that sounds metaphorical/metaphysical. Something like, Michael Blake arrives at work one day to find a stranger doing his job. He goes back home, only to find his wife making love to another stranger. And she ignores his protests as if he isn't even there. WTF?] Asleep, he wanders a strange land and watches silently as lost souls burn away to ash again and again. ["Again and again" suggests that it's the same souls each time. Is it?] If a woman named Alice can be believed, Michael is dreaming of the Wall, the border country between our World and Sbas Yul, the Hidden Place, where magic was sent a thousand years ago. [Alice sounds like she's had a few Alice B. Toklas brownies.] They are dreams of a forgotten past, she says, but also a sign of things to come. [Clever. No matter what the dreams turn out to be, she can claim she was right. Other claims that sound ominous while covering all bases: "The cards predict a new romance, but the tea leaves say otherwise, and the crystal ball is cloudy; that'll be sixty dollars," and "You will live . . . and then die!" (I learned these tricks of the trade when I trained as a fortune teller in Hungary.)] The dreams mark Michael as a Changeling, one who will cross through the Wall and into Sbas Yul. He will burn through, like the people in his dreams. And when he goes, the little of him left to remember will vanish. In three days Michael will have never existed. [I got the impression he already didn't exist. He's off the map of the World.]

Now others have found a way back from beyond the Wall looking for Michael. They are the Emim, the rulers of Sbas Yul, who once nearly conquered the Earth. Their power to make and twist reality, drawn from stolen souls, is fixed on Michael.

Michael and Alice are sent running out of Chicago and into the hidden heart of America. Tucked into cities and small towns live people who reveal to Michael more of the invisible around us and to the past we’ve been made to forget. A dreadlocked dragon bartender, a boy with mirrored eyes, a man who dances alone in the temple of the lost gods. While in his sleep, a strange woman walks through, teaching him, warning him. [I thought that was what Alice was doing. Is Alice there when he's awake or asleep?] Each of them has a past, an agenda, an allegiance. Michael must unwind the threads and find the one truth underneath them all, the secret to unlock his dreams and save us all.

If the Emim take Michael before he crosses over, it will mean the fall of Sbas Yul, the collapse of the Wall, and the end of the Earth. [If a woman named Alice can be believed.] [Suggested title: A Woman Named Alice.] For Michael to survive, he must come to understand and control his own growing power, a power that he fears is the very same as his tormentor’s. [Who is his tormentor? What exactly is his power?] The path to learning that control, to understanding our true history, and to fighting the Emim will take him around the World, through memory, dreams, and beyond.

The Study of Saints, complete at 76,000 words, is best described as urban fantasy. It is my first book.

I have included the first five pages for you to look over should you choose. I would be happy to send you either a partial or the full manuscript. Thank you for your time.



[The title of the book is a reference to the opposition of the Emim, called the Nharim, who are mentioned frequently but never seen. They went by a different names depending on where they lived, including saints. He does spend a lot of time trying to figure out who they were and what effect they and the Emim had on the world in order to bring us to the place we live now. Hence, the studying. He is also a "saint" or Nharim in potentia, something he only comes to understand later, so it takes on another meaning there. Finally, there's a thread of religious theory running throughout the whole novel, a kind of grand unification theory of world religion, so there's one more meaning to toss on. It's really too bad that the title sounds like Chick Lit [Actually, it sounds like a course description. Religion 214.] and will most likely get dumped before it ever makes press, if it ever makes press, in favor of something like Elven Lords of Sbas Yul: the Blood Moon Conspiracy. [Suddenly I perk up with renewed hope as I sense a bestseller in potentia.] I can see all my female character's chests bumping up 2 cup sizes as I write that. [I'm way ahead of you. Think Amazons. In the locker room after gym class. Suddenly, Michael realizes, being invisible isn't so bad.]


Notes

I note that Emim is "mime" backwards. Were the Emim mimes? Because a book in which mimes try to take over the world--sorry, World--would be great. Who wouldn't love a book in which the hero uses a machine gun to mow down an army of mimes?

If Alice is in the real world, as it appears since they run away from Chicago together, how does she get Michael to believe her preposterous story about Sbas Yul? Wouldn't he consider her a nutcase?

The Emim are coming after Michael. If they get him the World is finished. And to save us all, he must find the secret to unlock his dreams? Does he get to kill anyone with a sword? Unlocking dreams doesn't sound that exciting.

I'd like to see the plot in language you'd use talking to someone in a bar. Here's the setup, these are the stakes, here's what happens.

New Beginning 399

Nobody looks twice at me. Which is a good thing, as Martha Stewart says, because I kill people for a living. I’m not handsome and I’m not ugly. I have no distinguishing features—not even my eyes. When I dress up in a suit, I look like any businessman going to work, or perhaps a middle manager at your local A&P, the one responsible for keeping the Slurpie materials stocked. When I dress in jeans and a sweatshirt, I look like any old married guy who’s ready to watch a football game, or perhaps mow the lawn. Any of my employers might think I’m a little crazy for saying this, but I think it’s one of the reasons I’ve lasted so long in this business. Witnesses don’t remember much about me, if at all. I’m like a ghost in that way. I’m good at not being seen. I guess I’ve always been like that, even as a kid. I remember when my mother used to— “What the?! Aaaughhhhhhh!”



Motherfucker, as Martha Stewart says when she gets arrested, I guess I’m visible now. At least my blood is, flowing out from under that cab. How could he not have seen me? Shit. I’ll have to come up with a new intro now. Let’s see . . . Nobody looks once at me. No . . . Nobody looks at me . . . Christ, this could take a while.


Opening: freddie.....Continuation: blogless_troll

Face-Lift 446

Guess the Plot

Once Upon a Quest

1. When a best-selling fantasy author takes to telling his young daughter bedtime stories, he finds himself compulsively expanding classic fairy tales into massive narratives replete with wide-ranging sub-plots and multitudinous arrays of secondary characters. Years later, he finds the child has died of boredom.

2. A band of adventurers prepare to embark on a glorious evil-vanquishing quest, only to realize that their realm has experienced nothing but peace and prosperity for seven years, and no one really needs any evil vanquished.

3. A dragon saves a princess from a fate worse than death-- marriage to the villainous Prince Charming-- and hilarity ensues as they seek the means to live happily ever after.

4. At midnight John Inkleton slowly crawls through the dim hall of the Crow's Inn toward the sleeping princess, who is disguised as a scullery wench. His quest: cut off her hair for Peggy McFlynn, the Irish witch who enchanted his village.

5. There's nothing holding Jane Smith back as she inches along a narrow ledge near the top of the Empire State Building. She's determined to get her pages to Miss Snark's attention, or die trying. But does Her Snarkiness even live there? Or will that window actually reveal the red velvet hideout of Viggo the Terrible?

6. When Sleeping Beauty wakes up after 100 years to find herself alone in a ruined tower, she knows that Prince Charming has let her down. Accompanied by a half-blind dragon and a mouse with a big mouth she sets out to find him and show him that a Princess can be a tigress. That's assuming she survives the journey . . .


Original Version

Dear [Agent],

Owen Masterson needs a quest. Not just any quest, but one so grand it will cut years of service from city guard drudgery and catapult him to knight-status. His childhood friend, Finley Winterbourne, knows that an epic journey will provide the perfect material for a grand ballad – something he believes will secure him a cushy spot as the Bard of a High House [Suddenly we're capitalizing everything.] – and agrees to accompany Owen. Unfortunately for the friends, the realm of Turon has endured nothing but peace and prosperity for seven long years… and it doesn’t look like anything is about to change.

Still, the friends refuse to give up – evil must certainly still exist somewhere, and they intend to find it. With the help of a bawdy, female dwarf, a delusional peasant who believes herself the banished heiress of a long-decrepit estate, a small potatoes thief, and a mediocre wizard who has a serious shapeshifting problem, the band of wannabe adventurers set off on a quest-for-the-quest that will fulfill their destinies. [Those who set off with the help of the heiress, wizard, dwarf and thief are the Daring Duo, not a band.] But when they finally stumble upon a town in peril, will they be ready to take the enemy on? [We don't need quite so much information about the bit players. What we do need is a better wrap-up. Do they stumble upon a town in peril? Who are the enemy? You wouldn't describe Lord of the Rings by saying,

A hobbit goes on a quest accompanied by a couple of his friends, a bawdy male dwarf, a six-foot-tall elf, a wizard, and some guy who's actually a king. Will they defeat their enemies and complete their quest?]

We need more than the set-up; we need something about the quest.

Complete at 70,000 words, ONCE UPON A QUEST is a comic fantasy novel appropriate for readers aged 14+. My past credentials include [credentials]. This is my first novel.

At your request, I would be happy to send a partial of [or] full version of the manuscript. Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,


Revised Version

Owen Masterson needs a quest, and not just any quest; a quest so grand it will cut years from his city guard commitment and catapult him to knighthood. Owen's best friend, Finley Winterbourne, knows that an epic journey will provide the perfect material for a grand ballad –which he believes would secure him a cushy spot as the bard of a High House. The two men set forth on a quest to vanquish evil--until they realize that the realm of Turon has experienced nothing but peace and prosperity for seven long years, and that no one needs any evil vanquished.

Still, the friends refuse to give up – evil must certainly exist somewhere, and they intend to find it. Joined by a bawdy female dwarf, a delusional peasant, a petty thief, and a mediocre wizard, the wannabe adventurers embark on a quest for a quest--one that will fulfill their destinies.

Sadly, the people are so miserably content, the realm so depressingly perfect, that the band of heroes contemplate returning home. Then they happen upon Desolation, a squalid town governed by tyrant weredingos. At last! This is what they've been looking for all along. Or is it? How can a half-dozen bungling stumblebums hope to defeat the most heinous, depraved creatures ever to walk the face of the Earth?


Notes

Up until it petered out, I liked it.

New Beginning 398

Twelve-year-old Tony was well aware he lived in a putrid house. Life forced him to share his small and cramped dwelling with a rotten mother and father who insisted on being the boss of him. Also contaminating the house were four older sisters who tried to ruin his every waking moment: Theresa, Tiffany, Tina, and Tammy. Tony was the baby ‘T.’

“You skinny little worm. You don’t need lunch today.” Seventeen-year-old Theresa threw a piece of cheese and a slice of tomato at Tony, then ordered him out of the kitchen. He peeked around the corner and watched her gobble all the potato chips and most of the good cereal.

Tony’s quick-thinking brain made a calculation. Reason for running away number 97: Piggy-T ate all his food. Again.

Tony stomped into the bathroom and realized his survival was at stake. He had to tiptoe around Tiffany’s pink socks and pink hair ribbons and (ewww!) even her pink underwear so he could make it to the toilet and pee. When he finished, he poured a glob of shampoo on top of every pink girl cootie he could find. Lazy Tiffany’s mess gave Tony reason number 98 for packing it up and getting the heck out of town.

Within seconds he heard his mother's grating voice.

"Tony!" Her clodding steps reached the bathroom and she flung open the door . . . without even knocking! "Boy," she said, "what are you doing in here all this time? Look at the mess in--" Tony followed his mother's gaze as it fell on Tiffany's pink underwear with the glistening glob of shampoo sitting right in the centre. "Jesus Christ, boy, what in God's name . . . ?"

It looked like Mom was about to provide reason number 99.


Opening: Church Lady.....Continuation: Anonymous

Face-Lift 445

Guess the Plot

Godfire

1. Poor Tom Humphrey thought it was clever to advertise his peat lumps as fuel to make godfire. Now he's in the dungeon awaiting torture and death - unless his wife convinces Cardinal Salido to intervene.

2. Roland sets out with his magic sword "Godfire" on a quest to rid the world of the king, but the king, disguised as a commoner so that fairies can't find him, meets and befriends Roland. Hilarity ensues.

3. The lives, loves, and machinations of second-rate deities forced into obscurity in the modern world are revealed as they vent their frustrations on each other and the poor slobs whose ancestors once worshipped them.

4. Stinky and Dwight are flabbergasted to discover that the downstairs guy with the weird eyeballs is no ordinary huffer. He's a glue-powered space alien on a mission from the hungry god of planet Xilzah to take over the world next Tuesday. But no one believes them.

5. First the mysterious Plague killed nearly everyone, then a monstrous dragon ate all the animals, and now Duke Harry wants to burn everything that might not be pleasing to God and start over. Should Father John give him all the books?

6. When a religious zealot gets elected U.S. president, he intends to unleash the entire nuclear arsenal to cleanse the planet of mankind's sin. The military backs the plan for their own reasons. Can vice president Janet Castlebury save the world from . . . Godfire?





Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

Roland is a young hero on a quest to rid the world of the black wizard and king, Mantor Olgaroth– or so he thinks. Just like in the stories he was raised on, he has the right accouterments: a magic sword, the ability to mentally communicate with animals, steadfast companions, and a dragon. Really, though, he's simply a tool for his foster mother's personal vengeance, [What is her personal problem with the king?] and she doesn't care if killing Mantor will aid the murderous Baron Khismar in a coup d'etat.

[Mother: Roland, the king deserves to die.

Roland: Why is that, foster-mom? Unfair taxes? Unwinnable war in Iraq?

Mother: I went to the prom with him back when he was a prince, and he said he'd call me the next day, but he never called.

Roland: I shall rid the world of this vermin.

Mother: That's my boy. By the way, he's your father.]

Mantor has a more immediate problem: the fairies want to halt the magic flowing through his body from their world. Their claim that "death will not stop the magic" convinces Mantor they intend a more torturous fate for him. He swears off magic and leaves his chancellor in charge, disguising himself and vowing to live like an ordinary man. [An ordinary man like Roland, who has a magic sword and communicates with animals? What's "ordinary" in this world? Fantastical abilities, or plowing the fields all day and dropping by the ale-house at night to sing with the boys?] He finds Roland, and, even though Mantor knows the youth will kill him if his identity is discovered, the two develop a tenuous father/son-like bond.

But Mantor's chancellor is in league with Khismar, who is marching with his army to seize the vacant throne. [Doesn't Mantor's chancellor want the throne?

Mantor's Chancellor: Hey Khismar, the throne is empty, and I want it, but I could use the support of your army.

Khismar: I got a better idea. I'll explain it when I get there with my army.

Mantor's Chancellor: Uh, no need to--

Khismar: Don't worry, Your loyalty will be rewarded. I shall make you chancellor.]

Mantor refuses to fight Khismar with magic, certain that doing so cannot justify breaking his vow. Roland and his friends are left to defeat Khismar without Mantor's help, and they must do so before Khismar uses his own magic to bind everyone in permanent slavery. [What is Khismar waiting for? Presto. Everyone's a slave, permanently. What a relief. Now I don't have to worry that I'll forget to make everyone a slave, permanently. I shoulda done this years ago.]

GODFIRE is a heroic fantasy complete in one volume. [If you've written a fantasy that's complete in one volume, you're heroic. Unless it's a 360,000-word volume . . . Well, is it?] The full manuscript is available upon request. Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

[Note to Mr. Evil: Mantor is immortal because of a spell gone wrong. Godfire is the magic sword which can break the spell and render him mortal again. Or, of course, it can kill him outright.] [If I've befriended a guy with a sword that can kill me outright or can take away my immortality, I'm grabbing it and pitching it into the deepest part of the lake.]


Notes

I don't get the meaning of "Or so he thinks" in the first sentence. He really is on a quest to rid the world of Mantor Olgaroth, right?

Why do the fairies want to stop the magic flowing to Mantor Olgaroth? Has he been abusing his magical power? Is he the only person whose magic comes from the fairies? Where does Khismar get his magic? Shouldn't the fairies be trying to rid the world of Khismar instead of Mantor? Isn't Mantor a good guy? Are the fairies bad guys?

New Beginning 397

"What are they?"

"I don't know. That's why I asked you here. You're supposed to be the expert!"

"Me? Me? The expert? Why would you ever dub me the expert?"

"Because that's what your father told me. He said that you'd know everything about them."

"I don't even know what they are, let alone everything—"

"Fine, okay? You sure they aren't wolves?"

"No, no. I could sense if they were. They smell like wolves, but different somehow."

"Sahir should have been here to help me with this."

"Don't be like that."

"Be like what?"

"What you're doing right now. You don't have any reason to be angry with Dad."

"Oh I have many reasons to be angry with your father. Many, many reasons—"

"I've heard them all, and really I don't need to hear them again."

"Y'know, you shouldn't speak to me that way."

"What way?"

"Don't get all coy with me. That I'm-so-innocent shit hasn't worked since you were three."

"Mom! Language!"

"Is what we use to communicate, and shit is a very functional word."

"We've gone off topic, haven't we?"

"Pretty much."

"Well we know they aren't wolves, though they seem similar. What's weird is that they also smell like birds."

"Birds?"

"Birds."

"I just don't get it. So, what do you make of that one -- a squirrel?"

"Looks like a squirrel. But smells like a fish. Or a frog. Smells like a frog. And look at its skin."

"This doesn't make any sense. And that puppy . . . "

"Right. The puppy has possum's feet. What is it with this place?"

"I'll ask. Excuse me, sir? Sir?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Sir, are you sure you're a licensed taxidermist?"


Opening: Xiexie.....Continuation: Anonymous

Q & A 122

Is it worth it to pay an editing service to 'edit' my manuscript before submitting it to publishers/agents?

Is it worth what?

I Googled editing service and got 89,000,000 hits. If we assume there are a million decent editors in the world, you have a 1 in 89 shot at finding one of them.

If your book sucks, you don't need an editor. An editor won't turn crap into a great book. She'll probably improve it, but not to the point where it sells. You need to set it aside, come back to it, work on it some more.

If you have a really good story, and you can convince a publisher of this, they will buy your book and edit it at no cost to you. If you're lucky, they won't make it worse than it was to begin with.

If you have a really good story, and you can't convince a publisher of this, and you can find a good editor, it might help you get your foot in the door.

I'm thinking for starters you're better off finding a local or online critique partner or group, and getting their input. Figure out who knows what they're talking about, and ask them what's wrong with your writing. Maybe it's something you can fix yourself, once you know what it is. Have you sent your opening 150 - 200 words to Evil Editor's Openings? The Minions like nothing better than telling authors what they're doing wrong.

New Beginning 396

The man floated before the pitted bell-shape of the capsule, and his eyes filled with tears. The metal of the capsule still shone dully in the light of the stars, but it was pocked and torn by the forces it had encountered in its vast journey. Eighteen thousand million miles it had swung in its elongated orbit around the sun. It was like some great fish surfaced from the silent depths into the world of light, killed by its terrible journey. Anchored to the pitted hulk, the man, too, was like some denizen of the sea. Starlight gleamed on the armored plates of his pressure-suit. He looked like a crab grappling towards an unknown goal in the currents of a murky ocean. A metal arm extruded a powered spanner, and the man slowly unscrewed the airlock door. The capsule had already been holed and its air had poured out many years ago, but the man wanted to get inside. Wanted to bring back to Earth the body of the hero who had died and been carried beyond the sun, and now had returned. Had returned, like the last forgotten sardine in a tin someone had thought was empty and let sit out in the trash heap in the back yard until the fish was dessicated, yet still redolent of meals gone by.

The man worked quickly, like a grunion feverishly spawning before the tide went out. His breath grew ragged, and he felt much as a whale must with its baleen clogged with plankton. As the minutes ticked relentlessly away, his anxiety became as intense as a that of a Minion struggling to complete a bad analogy before the deadline.


Opening: Ishmael.....Continuation: Paul Penna