Face-Lift 466

Guess the Plot

Cargo Volante

1. Yet another plane comes to a deadly, explosive end when it skitters off the edge of a too-short runway in Brazil. Two hundred dead is bad enough, but when over half of the bodies are found in the cargo hold, the crash unlocks a secret slave trade that Hugo Volante, investigative reporter, will risk his life to expose.

2. After six months of unemployment, Sue has just started her new shipping and receiving job at Cargo Volante. Soon she learns that the company is bringing huge quantities of marijuana and cocaine into the U.S. Should Sue report this? Or should she just ask for an employee discount?

3. He's a hunky Brazilian soya farmer intent on expanding his farm into the Brazilian rainforest. She's a hard-headed, voluptuous American environmentalist out to stop deforestation. When they collide, it's so hot it could set the Amazon on fire.

4. On an abandoned cargo wharf, penniless, homeless, drunk Hiram falls in with a group of drug-addled anarchists. Together they turn the seedy wharf into a thriving venue for dance parties, with Hiram becoming a popular DJ and flying high in the city's social circles--until he starts to miss his old life of dumpster diving and bongs.

5. Cargo Volante was the code name for a spook research venture, a flying brick with no aerodynamics or fuel. Would this Area 51 project launch the U.S. into interstellar flight, or would the KGB's Cargo Snagglepuss program send it in another direction?

6. It was smuggling of the fowlest kind, and Dirk Destiny was determined to ferret out the depraved ring of black-marketers. But what he hadn't counted on was that the only way to succeed would be to don a tight fur suit and weasel his way in on all fours, hoping that he would be the perfect mole to infiltrate the vole-snatching ring in this spine-tingling tale of small animals gone awry.


Original Version

[It's actually a synopsis/cover page for a serial comic book proposal, which are a bit different from novel queries in that they don't expect you to have the entire thing written when you're pitching it.]

Hiram, a gay teenage delinquent on a prolonged whiskey bender, runs away from his mother's trailer on the Tulalip Indian Reservation out of frustration at the depressed economy and depressing people, and finds himself penniless, homeless, too sheltered and too drunk to consider anything besides crashing on the couch of the first person who offers. [If you're penniless, homeless and drunk, you're rarely in position to pick and choose from among several couch offers.] [Not clear what "too sheltered" means here.] That person turns out to be Sebastian, a quirky South American trust-fund brat turned starving artist squatting with a group of anarchists in a seedy abandoned container wharf on the Seattle waterfront. After several nights of heady conversations with his newfound friends and torrid sex with Sebastian, [Apparently comic books have changed a bit since the days of Archie and Jughead, Richie Rich and The Flash.] Hiram decides to move in with him - just temporarily, until he can get his feet on the ground, of course.

With the help of their circle of drug-addled, counterculture buddies, the unlikely pair turn the remote squat into a thriving venue for underground electronic dance music parties, and Hiram lives out his dream of becoming a popular house DJ and socialite in the big city. [A gay teenage delinquent who grew up on a reservation has a dream of being a big city socialite?] [Let's cut to the chase: what are Hiram's super powers?] It doesn't take him long to get over the culture shock and ditch mainstream day-job society for his chance at a wayward youth full of debauchery, dumpster-diving, bongos and bongs with the man and the scene he is falling deeply in love with. [How can he ditch mainstream day-job society? Is DJ at an underground dance club considered mainstream day-job society?] Hiram quits drinking, begins to take pride in his appearance, and finally starts to tear down the cynical, angry facade he has been hiding behind since childhood, feeling that only now has he found the 'tribe' to which he truly belongs. [This seems to keep going back and forth. He ditched the good life for a life of debauchery, dumpster diving and bongs, yet he also quits drinking etc.? Is the tribe to which he belongs the drug-addled counterculture buddies? If so, do they drink? Do they take pride in their appearances?]

But every party has to end sometime. The unlimited supply of pills and speed tempts Hiram with increasing frequency, he is plagued with guilt about leaving his disabled mother and codependent older sister back on the Rez, the fundamental differences between his world view and Sebastian's cause drama in their relationship, and the parties at the wharf have gained enough notoriety to attract unwanted attention. [Aquaman and Prince Namor want their cut of the profits.] Reckless and hedonistic abandon may have worked out for the best the first time around, but it's going to take maturity, self-sacrifice and cooperation to keep everything he's worked towards from falling apart.

[Origin of the title - It's like Disco Volante, which is Italian for 'Flying Saucer' but more commonly used as a pun about discotheque music, but in a cargo wharf, so, cargo! If anyone has any better suggestions, I'm all ears. I haven't drawn the logo yet.] [You removed the "disco" from disco volante and replaced it with "cargo." If anything needed replacing, it was the "volante," since the wharf was converted to a disco. I'd certainly go with Disco Volante as the title over Cargo Volante. And I'd seriously consider adding some flying saucers to the plot.]


Notes

The plot sounds more like literary fiction than a comic book series. I suppose if I'm gonna read something depressing it might as well have pictures.

It's not clear what happens after the dance club becomes successful. Does Hiram ditch the club for high society, and then go back to Sebastian? If so, when he goes back I would expect him to find the wharf a thriving venue, not the seedy dump it was when he first got there. So how is going back to life with Sebastian connected with dumpster diving?

Do they charge money to attend the parties? Is it a business? Where do they get the money for equipment and music and decor etc.? Does the starving artist dip into his trust fund for speakers?

Even if there are no super villains, there should be a villain of some sort. Who's the bad guy who threatens to mess everything up for our "hero"?

New Beginning 421

Once safely inside the Tribune Saica's house, we threw off our cloaks to reveal our uniforms. The housekeeper gave me a sterner version of the look with which he'd greeted us at the door.

"Ain't no Twelfth Legion," he said.

Ignoring him, we advanced on the exedra; he retreated before us, slamming his wooden leg down on the floor at every other step, perhaps as a warning.

The smell of food hadn't misled. We interrupted Saica at dinner, he rising from his seat to greet us, and Drusus grabbing the housekeeper and shoving him out of the room. Once Drusus closed the door, he stood with his back to it. That left him conveniently in shadow. No matter--he would have to face Saica soon enough.

Geraint stepped aside. Saica looked at me for a long moment, then reached for his glass of wine, and sipped from it.

"We are sent here from the Twelfth Legion," I said.

Saica examined my uniform as his slender fingers played with the stem of his wine glass. "I know of no Twelfth Legion," he replied.

I cast Geraint a glance. "We have traveled fourteen days from the city of Rudra to meet with you."

"Really?" Saica arched an eyebrow. "Yet I have never heard of a city called Rudra."

"Sir." I took a step closer so he could fully see my earnestness. "Our country is in turmoil. If we do not form an alliance, the Jardian will take control."

Saica shook his head. "Jardian is a name unfamiliar to me." He took another sip of wine.

"Tribune Saica! Your stubbornness does us a disservice."

"You have me mistaken, sir, for my name is Aiken Dromm and I am a farmer."

I heard the tap of a wooden leg outside the door. "Ain't no Tribune Saica," were the housekeepers muffled words.

I snatched the order papers from Geraint's hands. "Bollocks. We're in the wrong buggering story."


Opening: BuffySquirrel.....Continuation: ril

Face-Lift 465

Guess the Plot

The Dracula Chronicles: The Dragon Awakes

1. The wind brings glad tidings--a child is born unto a minor prince in the little town of Wallachia. And he shall be named Vlad. And he shall be a good man. Then a dragon shall awake and ruin everything. Also, a vampire.

2. Another in the cross-genre series in which the author seeks to reinvigorate the moribund fantasy novel, following her widely-acclaimed "Frankenstein and the Philosopher's Stone," "Zombies of the Round Table" and "The Lion, the Witch and the Weredingo."

3. Dracula was on vacation, working on his memoirs in Newark, the least likely place to have a sleeping dragon. But there was a dragon, under the old Peoples' Express terminal and it smelled Dracula's aura. Was Newark ready for total war between Dracula and Dragona? Would they even notice?

4. It has vampires, it has dragons. As long as both are on the cover, it doesn't need a plot, because every fantasy/paranormal fanboi will buy it anyway. Now if only we could fit werewolves in there somewhere...

5. Dracula gives the fang to a dragon, creating a new creature that drinks blood and throws away the meat, quadrupling the dragon's harvesting of humans. Thanks a bunch, Dracula.

6. Dracula's late-night heavy toga-partying with his werewolf buds pisses off a neighborhood dragon, causing a flame war.


Original Version

Dear Evil:

I've recently completed a 90,000 word novel of supernatural suspense that focuses on the early life of Vlad Dracula. [Just the first 400 years.]

[Dracula: The Early Years

I. Dracula breast-feeding

Mrs. Dracula: Hey, you little bastard, just suck it!

II. Dracula in kindergarten

Teacher: Okay, which one of you drained Maria's blood?

III. Dracula in ninth grade

Principal: Okay, which one of you drained Mrs. Wallenstein's blood?]

In this richly drawn portrait of the infamous vampire, The Dracula Chronicles: The Dragon Awakes tells the story of an extraordinary man with the power to change the face of Europe forever. [By making it very pale.]

The story begins in 1431, high in the Carpathian Mountains. A Black Dragon sleeps, as he has done for a hundred years, sated on the blood and pain of the Crusades. Then the winds bring Black Radul tidings of a child – the son of a minor prince in the insignificant country of Wallachia, which borders the Black Sea. Vlad has the power to cast Europe back into another Dark Age, and postpone the Renaissance for centuries. Radul's goal is to tie the boy to him before the other Great Dragons of Europe can manipulate him for their own purposes. [When a gigantic lizard wakes up after a hundred years, I suspect his only immediate goal would involve pigging out on a couple dozen knights.]

When Vlad is singled out for induction into the [Vampire Hall of Fame,] Holy Roman Emperor's powerful and secretive Order of the Dragon, the ceremony gives him strange new powers . . . [while robbing him of the ability to pronounce the letter "w,"] and binds him to Radul, the Black Dragon of the Carpathians, in an unholy servitude that Vlad can neither accept nor escape.

This sumptuous tale travels from the debauched and glittering Nuremburg court of Sigismund, the Holy Roman Emperor, to Adrianople, and the hashish-soaked harem of Murad II, the Grand Sultan of the Ottoman Turks.

The Dracula Chronicles: The Dragon Awakes combines the actual events of the life of Prince Vlad Dragula [That's what Dracula goes by when he dresses in women's clothes.] with the myth of Dracula, to tell the tale of an exceptional man at the center of a whirlwind of magic and evil, seeking to insure that the world remains in the hands of the mortals it was created for, no matter what the price. [Wait a minute, Dracula's the good guy?]

Please let me know if there is anything further I can do to facilitate your consideration. Sample chapters and the full manuscript are available at your request.

Sincerely,


Notes

It wasn't clear to me whether Radul wanted to use Vlad to postpone the Renaissance or wanted to prevent other Great Dragons from using him to postpone the Renaissance. What are the various dragons' motivations? It must be made clear what Radul wants with Dracula.

Better to let the editor discover that your story is richly drawn and sumptuous than to declare it so yourself.

This reminds me of other books based on the actual events of Dracula's life. Except it has dragons.

Anne Rice wrote The Vampire Chronicles. Unless you're Anne Rice, you might consider a new title.

Charter Members of the Vampire Hall of Fame: Dracula, Angel, Lestat, Armand, The Count, Count Duckula, Count Chocula, Evil Editor's first wife, the IRS.

New Beginning 420

Paul thrust the sword in deeper, straining to reach the center, most vulnerable point before the fumes knocked him out. The dragon roared and shook his head. Paul shoved the sword to the right and thrust again.

“Nope. That’s not it either, man.” The dragon snorted little puffs of smoke. “Try a little to the left.”

Paul sighed, swiping a grimy hand across his sweaty brow. He took a deep breath, then regretted it instantly. “You know this would be a lot easier if you would take a bath.”

The dragon rumbled laughter. Paul grabbed a nearby bright red scale and hung on as the dragon’s belly shook. Nothing like a laughter earthquake to make digging around under dragon scales even more challenging.

Paul moved the sword and thrust again. There was a loud pop. A noxious stench reached his nostrils. The dragon sighed and Paul fell off his precarious dragon belly perch leaving the sword wedged in the dragon’s back.


"Lame!" Paul shouted, and threw down the Xbox controller. He jumped over the wrapping paper and stormed into the kitchen.

"Mo-om! he whined. "Did Dad buy my present in Beijing again? I said I wanted Dragon Ball Z, not Dragon Boilz!"


Opening: Sarah L......Continuation: ril

Hiya EE,

I thought you might be amused by a new story on Ello's blog in which I as the Chosen One defeat my great antagonist, Evil Editor, who has been murdering authors around the world. Here's the link:

http://randomactsofunkindness.blogspot.com/2007/12/chosen-one.html

I won a contest on her blog a couple weeks ago and my reward was a story.

Paca

New Beginning 419

Chris reached out to the storm door. Sleet pelted the back of his hand then clung with a nearly lost hope. The cold metal handle stung his fingers as the latch pinched his thumb.

"Fuck," he said sucking at the cut.

"I hate this fucking weather !," Chris called down to the farmhouse basement.

Grit sloughing from the hand laid stone walls turned slick under his damp boot soles. Chris slipped over the steps but caught himself. He descended on his toes from the storm's evening twilight to the sawdust twilight of Zach's basement woodshop.

"I wondered if I'd see you before the first," Zach called as a greeting.

Chris helped Zach's cottage toy industry ostensibly for the choice of a winter's evening companionship. The checks Zach left taped to Chris' front door at uneven intervals didn't hurt. Their friendship lingered from Chris' high school days when Zach taught Shakespeare with a passion now absent.

"The irregular blocks need trimmed for the lathe if your are of a mind to cut some elf bellies." Zach hadn't turned around yet but sorted bits of blond wood trinkets into a distressed apothecary's cabinet bearing the labels Viking horns, fish fins (small), and Chris' personal favorite: pirate parrot beaks.

Chris pulled the first of dozens of clamped wooden cubes from hooks screwed into the exposed floor joists above. He turned to the band saw.

"God damm it – this fucking table is still fucking covered in blood !" Chris yelled to Zach. "Didn't you think to fucking clean this bitch ?"

"You think I got the fucking time to do maid service, asswipe ?"

"You're a fucking slob, Zach. I don't know why I--"

The phone interrupted. Zach snatched up the receiver. "What ?!" Chris started to wipe down the band saw while Zach took the call. "Jesus Wept... ! Listen, you fat fuck, we're going as quick as we can. We're not fucking magic. You'll get 'em when they're ready. What's the fucking hurry ?"

Chris grabbed some wood.

Zach sighed. "Yeah. Yeah I guess that's-- Yeah, okay. But don't be surprised if they look as rough as a whore's . . . okay. Okay.... !" He slammed the phone down. "Fucking Santa Claus. Reindeer screwing dipshit."

Chris didn't reply. He remembered what it was like being on the Naughty list last year.


Opening: A. Snarkling.....Continuation: Anonymous

Face-Lift 464

Guess the Plot

For a Short Time

1. The graffiti in the bathroom put him over the edge. "For a short time, call Dave" was the ultimate insult. He's got Viagra now, and Dave is out for revenge.

2. Sylvia knew the man of her dreams was out there . . . somewhere. But, unless she wore stilletos, five-foot-nothing Sylvia couldn't see through the crowds to find him. Until one night, when she was out for drinks and saw, scrawled on the ladies room wall, a message she feared was too good to be true: "For a Short Time, Call . . ."

3. After a lifetime being towered over by women, Shorty wants to do something for other short guys. But will the bank approve a small business loan to start an escort service for the vertically challenged?

4. It took Cassie Trent a long time to figure out that there was nothing wrong with a short time. At least not when that short time was five minutes in bed with Brad Pitt. Unfortunately now she's going to have his baby to deal with . . . for a long time.

5. When Keri meets the Quinn cousins, she immediately falls for tall actor Keith and becomes friends with short carpenter Jeremy. Will she learn that big things really do come in small packages before it's too late and she develops a permanent facial disorder?

6. When Rick tells Gabrielle he has only six months to live, she must decide whether to say goodbye now, or whether the eventual sorrow is worth it, to be truly happy . . . For a Short Time.


Original Version

Dear Agent of My Dreams,

She’s back in town... Keri Ferrita, the “Man-Eat-a”...and once again living in her sister’s basement in the Midwest. [If I asked Keri where she lived, would she say Dubuque, Iowa, or the Midwest?] Fickle, lovable, and a little bit self-absorbed after years of living the good life in far away places, thirty-year old Keri need to find out just who she really is. [And what better place to find out who you really are than in a basement in Dubuque?]

After a lifetime of having any man she’s ever wanted, and then growing tired of each one, Keri meets the Quinn cousins, Keith and Jeremy. Keri falls unusually hard for Keith, a handsome actor running from lurid secrets, [After living in LA and New York, she has to go to Dubuque to meet an actor?] and makes the best friend she’s ever had in his cousin Jeremy, the sensitive and talented--but short--cabinetmaker. [Are we talking Billy Barty short (3', 9")? Or just Tom Cruise short (4' 11")?] After a series of heartaches and two stress-induced episodes with the facial disorder Bell’s Palsy, Keri realizes, almost too late, that [short guys aren't necessarily short where it counts.] the best things in life really do come in small packages. [No, no, Big things come in small packages; the best things in life are free.]

[Keri: Doctor, I was out on a date with Keith Quinn, and suddenly I couldn't move my facial muscles on the left side.]

Doctor: Sounds like Bell's Palsy. That wouldn't have happened if you'd been out on a date with Jeremy Quinn.]

This quirky, 80,000-word romance, For a Short Time, is complete and ready to send at your request. I have enclosed a sample. May I send you the manuscript? Thank you for your time.


Notes

This Bell's Palsy thing isn't clear enough. She has it twice, and both times she was with Keith, the guy she's dating? Thus it must be caused by being with Keith? Thus by hooking up with the short guy--who she hasn't fallen for--she can avoid an annoying facial disorder?

She didn't have Bell's Palsy with other tall guys she dated, so what is it about Keith? The fact that she's fallen unusually hard for him? After dating dozens of guys she didn't fall in love with, she finally falls for one, and dumps him for his cousin because her face froze up a couple times?

Researching Bell's Palsy at Wikipedia, I discovered that Ralph Nader, George Clooney and Pierce Brosnan are among the afflicted. I also have concluded that what your character has is not Bell's Palsy. She's been misdiagnosed.

Does Keri's series of heartaches involve Keith, and only Keith? This is pretty brief; you might fill us in a bit on Keith's lurid past and Keri's series of heartaches.

I know you want to make the point that looks aren't everything, but let's be realistic: Jeremy's short.

Guess the Title 6 (Children's Books Edition)

Below are descriptions of twelve children's books. The descriptions were taken from Amazon.com. Your job is to guess which title goes with each book. The fake titles were composed by Dave F., Mignon, Scott, Talpianna, Bill Highsmith and Evil Editor.


1. A "fanciful creature of undefined nature," it was also once the wisest, kindest, most fun-loving living thing in the world--until people stopped believing in it.

A Young Person's Guide to the Democratic Party
My Body, My Elf
The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
The Graveyard of the Imaginaries
The Sad little Bloggosaur
When Puffalumps Walked the Earth

2. Three children pore over an extraordinary manuscript forced on them by a passing hen: "The True Story of Harrowing Farm." The hen tells how little green men shoo her and her fellows from the cramped cages where they've been confined to lay eggs, uncomfortably, in public, then fit the cages to humans -- the species they prefer as food.

The Chicken Gave It to Me
Guess Who We're Having for Lunch
Green PETA People Eater
When the Clucking Ends
Three Men in a Kettle
The Hen Zen of Martian Farming


3. "Some cases start rough, some cases start easy. This one started with a dame. (That's what we private eyes call a girl.)" Fourth-grade gumshoe Chet Gecko searches for a missing chameleon named Billy.

How Chet Saved A Ton Of Money On His Car Insurance
The Case of the Reptile Dysfunction
The Geeky Gecko Gumshoe Caper
The Chameleon Wore Chartreuse
Gumshoe Lizard
Flight of the Iguana


4. Chester the cat, Harold the dog, and Howie the puppy set out to save the neighborhood vegetables from a vampire rabbit.

The Celery Stalks at Midnight
Full Vegetable Jacket
The Brave Little Onion
Revenge of Bunnicula
Carrot Dracula
The Vampireteen Rabbit


5. What if your Dad loved books, owned a bookstore, and even called his cherished volumes "my little bookies"? What if, while you're working in the store and hoping shoplifters will ease your burden, you spot a weird, pale stranger drinking a book--with a straw?

Return of The Blurb
Eat Your Words!
Thirst For Knowledge
The Ink Drinker
The Vampire's Book of Party Snacks
One Flew over the Book Coot's Nest


6. The author has a simple philosophy of the fable: "If you can't say something nice about someone, change the guy's name to Donkey or Squid." After all, the alleged Aesop did it.

Animals Are People Too
Squids Will Be Squids
An Ill Wind Blows No Nose
Christopher Hitchens's Book of Nasty People
In Case You Were Wondering, the Donkey is George Bush
Moral Minority


7. Two abandoned kittens encounter mishaps on all sides when they are adopted by a human family.

Cat Scratch Fever
Kitties In The White House: How Two Kittens Started the Iraq War
Snot Stew
Fur from Home
The Fortunate Felines' Fantastic, Fateful Adventure
Snot Stew? What's that got to do with Kittens?


8. Fourth-grader Albert has always been a little afraid of the Pine Manor Nursing Home, which he passes on the way home from school; the residents wave at him, but he just can't relax until he's well past it.

Old People Were Human Once Too
Albert Weinstein and the Case of the Agin' Cajun
Heaven Can't Wait
Evergreen and Ever Dead
Mannequin Manor
Old People, Frogs and Albert


9. The sibling rivalry between twelve-year-old Megin and her older brother Greg intensifies after she ruins his science project and he retaliates by throwing her favorite hockey stick into the pond.

Things to Do in Canada When Your Brother is a Dork
Blood Is Thicker--When Spilled
Pucks 'n' Ducks
Siblings from H-e-Double Hockey Stick
Who Put That Hair in My Toothbrush?
That Does it: I'm Sending in My Goons


10. In this Edgar Award winner set in medieval times, Anora chooses to marry the obnoxious but wealthy Farold instead of Selwyn, thus making Selwyn the chief suspect when Farold is found murdered.

The Donjon Murder
Death of a Big-Cheese Burgher
Twelve Angry Wenches
Never Trust a Dead Man
Stop, Fief!
Murder on Michaelmas

11. Shamelessly exploiting the intelligence, honesty, and guileless wit of the nation's youth (and apparently having a heck of a time doing it), the author asked over 100 kids the same question: "What do you think would make our world a more perfect place to be?"

No more Homework!
The Kid's Guide to Self-Delusion
Undoing the Damage Grown-Ups Do
Lima Beans Would be Illegal
Have Your Mom Buy You This Book and Make Me Rich
Kids Say the *#!$%-est Things


12. The author appeals to the gross-out side of kids in this exploration of edible grub (larvae and otherwise) around the world, past and present, and it's more laughs than a barrel of monkey brains (the one delicacy he missed).

It's Disgusting and We Ate It!
The Big Book of Yuck!
GrassWhoppers and McCockroaches
Grosstronomy for Kids
Surely You're Not Going to Stick That in Your Mouth!
Bugmeister's Insectivorously Delicious Diet



Answers below



The real book titles are:


The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
The Chicken Gave It to Me
The Chameleon Wore Chartreuse
The Celery Stalks at Midnight
The Ink Drinker
Squids Will Be Squids
Snot Stew
Old People, Frogs and Albert
Who Put That Hair in My Toothbrush?
Never Trust a Dead Man
Lima Beans Would be Illegal
It's Disgusting and We Ate It!

Face-Lift 463

Guess the Plot

Modern Magic

1. When the coach of the Orlando Magic sees Flubber, he decides to fund secret research at the Univ. of Florida. Fortunately, the players don't notice the $200,000 pocket change missing from each of their paychecks.

2. The Prospero siblings, John and Liz, are descendants of powerful magicians. As they grow into adulthood they become crime fighters--but do they have what it takes to bring down the renegade vigilante sorcerers behind an increasingly horrible crime wave?

3. Merlin awakens from the oak tree wherein he has slumbered lo these many years, to find the world in a despicable state. He must locate Arthur to put things aright. His first step is to locate the modern wizards, to enlist their help, and he is shocked to find that there aren't any.

4. The bigwigs at ABC think Madeleine is the perfect choice to play the witch Drucilla in their new sitcom, "Modern Magic". Little do they know just how right they are. Can Madeleine keep the tabloids from finding out she's really 650 and a witch-queen in disguise?

5. Magic the dragon has discarded his beans and fur fabric in favour of the latest cybernetic upgrades. But when a metal-eating virus attacks Earth, Magic finds himself battling for his life and the lives of cybernetically enhanced toys everywhere.

6. Sure, everyone says modern conveniences are a byproduct of science & industry. But young wizard Collinsway Carruth knows the truth--and must protect it from outsiders at all cost.



Original Version

Dear Ms. Agentname,

To Liz Prospero, magic is both commonplace and unattainable. She’s a modern descendant of a long line of powerful sorcerers, but was born without magical ability. [When you're a powerful sorcerer and your spouse's genes turn out to be dominant, you never live it down.] Although she grew up in the sorcerous subculture, she spends her youth in a mad dash to get away from it. [How can a kid whose family is knee-deep in the sorcerous subculture get away from it? Did she leave home?]

Her older brother, John, has the opposite problem. He’s magically gifted, and is called upon to perform near-miracles. A rise in magical crime drafts him into hunting renegade sorcerers before he’s ready, and he struggles to hide his self-doubt under a facade of snarky cockiness.

[Renegade Sorcerer: You're gonna take me down? Don't make me laugh.

John: Yo mama.]

Modern Magic is a novel in stories, [Someone once sent me a short story in novels; this sounds much more manageable.] following the Prospero siblings from their late teens into established adulthood. [What is meant by "established"?] Each story has a self-contained adventure as well as developing the overall story arc. As John and Liz grow into their respective roles [as established adults] and meet fresh challenges, they realize that the rise in crime is something more sinister than a mere societal shift. [Tell me more. What is the rise in crime?]

Liz realizes that she can’t escape her heritage, and then that she doesn’t want to. She learns to balance her magical heritage with her mundane nature, and eventually appreciates how unusual this combination makes her. [That is unusual. A sorceress who can't do magic should celebrate her uniqueness like a ballerina with no feet. ] John, burdened with ever-greater demands, learns that he can handle more than he thought possible. He never completely conquers his fear of failure, but learns to live with the possibility.

Modern Magic is a humorous novel with serious underlying themes. With wit, suspense, and pathos, [The shill who writes the back-cover copy handles the bragging. The author's above all that.] it explores the ideas of different kinds of normal and different ways to be useful. During a tense game of find-the-villain and the climactic confrontation, John and Liz each play a pivotal role in discovering and defeating the group behind the increasingly horrible crimes.

I thought you might be interested because your web site profile states that you like urban fantasy, humor, and character-driven stories. [My web site profile says I like Italian cooking, Uruguayan history, and canasta. I don't want 'em all in the same book, however.] If I had to pick a single work most like Modern Magic, it would be [the one I ripped off,] Carrie Vaughn’s Kitty series. It would also appeal to fans of the lighter work of Connie Willis and Esther M. Friesner.

May I send the complete manuscript of 90,000 words? A sequel, Mind Magic, is outlined but not yet written.

Very truly yours,


Notes

Does it have to be described as a novel in stories? Why not a novel in chapters, with each story a separate chapter? A chapter isn't required to pick up where the previous chapter left off.

I didn't get that it was a humorous book. There are horrible crimes, troubled characters . . . Maybe you should throw in an example of what's so funny.

I also want to know what kind of crimes we're talking about. To create space for this new stuff, drop the last sentence of paragraph 1 and add the second paragraph to paragraph 1. If necessary, much of what's in the last two paragraphs can go.

New Beginning 418

When Sandra called from the airport, I was asleep and the brilliant ringing of the telephone clashed badly with my attempts to mend a dream that had already spiraled too far out of control.

"You woke me up," I told her petulantly. Her apology was mostly laughter. Airport security had confiscated a bottle of her favorite perfume, and the singular boredom of an hour spent in hard plastic seats by Gate 14 had surrendered her to her cell-phone. 5:45 in the morning. I was not allowed to complain. If she had been born a crueler, angrier person, she said, she would have woken me two hours before. A hundred pounds of dropped luggage, stilettos on the hardwood floor, all the lights on. But no. She had taken great pains to do everything in relative darkness, the pale yellow glow of the dining room lamp acting as sole beacon to her luggage-laden descent. In a grand show of consideration, she had donned her shoes on the front steps, closed the door without a sound, and gingerly carried her bags to the curb.

"Really," she said, "you should be extraordinarily well-rested by now. All that extra sleep." Her tone was bright and self-congratulatory.

"True," I said, but it wasn't. A sharp jab of consternation had caught me in the chest shortly after 4 AM, waking me just in time to watch her cab pull away. Back in bed, I had suffocated myself with blankets and the knowledge that I was, once again, alone.

"They just opened the doors; we'll be boarding soon." I could hear staccato airport announcements in the background. "So, how do you feel?"

I wasn't sure. Relieved? Rejected? She was really going. I was feeling the need to unload. "I'm just happy to have some room," I said. "I hope they don't sell cheeseburgers where you're going. Go somewhere where they have salads, that's my advice. I hope they got you sitting in the middle on the plane. Listen, Sandy, was there anything else? Only I'm on my own here and it's my first chance in years to have sex with someone who really gets what I need. Oh, and I'm selling that ridiculous buffalo hide sofa of yours, it just reminds me of your mother, anyway."

I woke up for the last time, shivering and blanketless, with winter light streaming under the shades. Sandra was sitting staring at me in her flannel PJ's. "You were talking in your sleep again," she said.

This wasn't looking good.


Opening: Regina.....Continuation: Anonymous

Volunteers Needed

. . . to nominate Face-Lifts for best of 2007.

Each volunteer will be given a set of Face-Lifts to read, and report back with the funniest ones. I'll narrow the resulting nominees down to 5 or 10 on which everyone will vote. The criteria is humor; the query itself doesn't figure in. Thus, if you never find EE amusing, you would make a lousy nominator.

While you're choosing EE's best work, I'll choose yours, the best GTPs and New Beginnings. Once I know how many volunteers I have, I'll decide how many Face-Lifts in a set; no more than 25, for sure.

Face-Lift 462

Guess the Plot

Finders Keepers

1. Haley McGill thinks a $100 bill she found is hers, but when her friends disagree with her assessment and beat the crap out of her for the bill, she remembers that there's a second part to the old saying.

2. The drummer for the band Finders Keepers is perfectly happy with his life--until his biology teacher's invasive blood probing experiment threatens to ruin everything.

3. In a world ruled by vampires, the few remaining humans are a precious food resource. Our heroine is on the run, trying to escape a lifetime of imprisonment as a blood supply. One hunky vampire offers to help her. But can she trust him? In the new world, when a vampire finds a human, it's . . . Finders Keepers.

4. Arnie Bolsover is a serial burglar -- houses, shops, cars, pockets; he can't resist the urge to acquire what is not his. Eventually the full force of the law catches up with him and he is set to acquire a long vacation in a small cell. But thanks to a sharp lawyer, and a little known statute, it's discovered that "finders keepers, losers weepers" is a point of law, and when news gets out, anarchy takes over.

5. Grandpa Finders taught grandson Seth to throw back the fish that were under the limit. When they reel in a suitcase filled with gold bars, however, it's a keeper. Problem is, drug kingpin Hiram "Meth-man" Dunderkindel wants his gold back. Can Seth outwit the drug dealing gang, or will he soon be sleeping with the fishes?

6. A restaurant nearly goes out of business until the chef finds the perfect recipe--tasty men. It's winner-take-all in the culinary world as Chef Paulino scours the streets of New York searching for sweaty biceps, tender thighs and succulent livers. When other chefs demand to know his secret, will Paulino tell them . . . "Finders Keepers"?


Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

In Finders Keepers, a young adult novel complete at just over 59,000 words, a teenage boy struggles to merge his two worlds when the father he’s never met gains custody of him.

Street-smart and independent thanks to his two adult half-brothers, Tyson Mendel doesn’t usually mind that his mom kind of sucks at being a mom, or that he has to play the parent when she’s drunk or high, but he often feels guilty about the sacrifices his brothers have made for him. The summer that he turns fifteen, Ty’s life takes a sharp turn when the father he’s never met reappears and is awarded custody of him. [How does a guy get custody of a kid he's had no involvement with, when the kid doesn't mind that his mom sucks at being a mom? Who complained? Has he been trying to get custody for fifteen years, or is this a spur-of-the-moment idea?

Father: Yeah, I'd like to sue for custody of my son.
Lawyer: You're divorced from the mother?
Father: We were never married.
Lawyer: How old's your son?
Father: Fifteen.
Lawyer: How often do you see him?
Father: I've never seen him.
Lawyer: Why should you have custody?
Father: His mother drinks.
Lawyer: How do you know?
Father: She was drunk out of her mind the night I knocked her up.
Lawyer: Yes . . . she must have been.]

Initially convinced that he should despise his father as much as his brothers do, Ty eventually has to admit that Daniel isn’t such a bad guy, especially after Daniel stands up for Ty when he is accused of credit-card theft.

By the end of the year, Ty has embraced his new life, his brothers have moved forward with theirs, and his mom is living with her boyfriend. A few months later, though, a blood-type experiment in biology class threatens to ruin everything – the father Ty has begun to love isn’t his dad after all.

[Biology teacher: Okay students, tomorrow I want you to bring in some blood from both your parents so we can determine how many of you are bastard children.

Ty: How are we supposed to get their blood?

Biology teacher: I'm getting to that. Jenny, would you pass out the ice picks and turkey basters?]

Now, Ty is faced with a decision – betray his family by keeping his mouth shut, or tell the truth and once again become his brothers’ burden? [They've all moved on; why would they feel betrayed, even if they knew? And how would they find out?] When he chooses to remain with Daniel, Ty’s life becomes a deceptive game riddled with guilt; [I don't get the guilt.] so when his secret is revealed after his mother’s sudden death, Ty runs off to take refuge in the anonymity of the city streets, believing that it was his decision that led to her death. [What was the cause of death? If his living mother can stand that he wants to stay with Daniel, his dead mother ought to be able to handle it.] Longing for his family, but too ashamed to face them, [Ashamed of what?] Ty pairs up with a homeless man obsessed with scavenging discarded food. [What I hate about the homeless is their obsession with eating.] There, he confronts the thing he doubts the most – his own self worth.

Finders Keepers is my first novel. Thank you for taking the time to read my query.

Sincerely,

[Origin of the title – Finders Keepers is the name of Ty’s oldest brother’s band, in which Ty is the drummer, and his brothers and cousin are the other band members. Their name for the band came about as a joke derived from the fact that all of them had fathers who were not involved in their lives, and therefore they were all up for grabs to any available dad. This ultimately becomes a reality for Ty, who finds out that even the kids who have been cast aside by a biological parent can mean the world to somebody they don’t even belong to.]


Notes

If he's gonna pair up with someone other than his family, why not the guy he's already paired up with (Daniel)? Why a homeless guy?

Does Daniel know he's not Ty's father? Who reveals the secret?

Who is Daniel to the half-brothers? Why do they hate him?

He chooses to stay with Daniel rather than his mother. Presumably a tough decision. But when mother dies, it seems that would make the decision easier. I'm not convinced that taking to the streets and pairing up with a homeless guy would appeal more than Daniel's place. He feels if he'd stayed with mom he could have prevented her death? We need details on her death.

Wouldn't a fifteen-year-old kid be given any input into whether his complete stranger father gets custody? Is the mother present at the custody hearing?

Of course I'm looking at the situation as a rational adult, not a fifteen-year-old, but the kid is street-smart, which might indicate he has enough common sense to talk things over with Daniel or his brothers before running off.

I like the situation, but that assumes the legal part is reasonable, and that the kid isn't acting like an idiot just so you can have him learn a valuable lesson.

Q & A 124

How many rejections should I collect before I shelve my current novel and move on? My polished query has received 31 rejections with no requests to see the manuscript. How much more abuse should I take?

If, by "move on" you mean start working on a new book, you should do that as soon as you are no longer working on the current book. Sending queries doesn't count as working on it.

If your polished query isn't getting people who publish your type of book excited about your book, it might need a stronger hook, or it might need something removed, something that you think is important, but that's convincing editors your plot is ridiculous. You don't think Dan Brown's query for The Da Vinci Code mentioned that amidst all the intrigue surrounding Robert Langdon's quest for the truth, he was also being chased by a giant albino, do you?

Most successful writers have books they never sold, and many successful books were rejected by 31 editors. You may fall into one of these categories.

Religion

Seven fake plots about religion are accompanied by four plots that turned out to be actual plots of novels. Which four?


1. Weaving the stories of five seemingly unrelated women together into a telling commentary on "the oldest profession" and its role in the subversion of the Catholic church.

2. After some unkind words by his preacher one Sunday, addled ranchhand Hayseus Rioja declares a blood feud with the preacher, the church, and God herself.

3. As Moses returns to camp, knowing that the Children of Israel will never believe what really happened on the mountain, he makes up the 10 Commandments, figuring that everyone will soon forget about them.

4. Five murders have been committed, all within sight of a church or synagogue. Detective Gray has no clues, but he does have incentive: his estranged wife will take him back if he solves the case.

5. St. Egbert of Bagsdale, temping for St. Peter during the key-keeper's annual vacation in the Florida Keys, misdirects two souls and misplaces three more. He has seven days to find them and get them back to heaven, or he gets demoted from Sainted to Blessed.

6. Father Joseph put his green chasuble away and took out the purple one. Today he would give up his shameful vices, at least for forty days. A strange feeling of peace came over him - no more drinking, no more gambling, no more loaning money to Sister Grevillia.

7. After inmate Roy Smith admits in confession that he murdered someone, he warns the priest not to blab. Will the good Father keep quiet, or will he snitch, in order to reduce his own sentence?

8. Gifted research historian Brent Rasmussen uncovers irrefutable proof of the existence - and identity - of the one true God. The world's religious leaders have mixed reactions to the evidence that they were all wrong.

9. In the year 2017, amid an ongoing world war between Christians, Jews, and Muslims, Athiests unite in a fourth political bloc which is quickly labeled "godless" by the other three.

10. Nik has a highly enhanced sense of smell, but will that help him when the Archpriest of the Church of Vordis contracts to have him killed?

11. A theology student who's also a sorcerer is in danger of being expelled--unless he can find a way to bring peace between the Christian God and the old Roman gods.




Answers below





The actual plots are
4, 7, 10, 11

New Beginning 417

“Excuse me.” Irene lightly tapped him on the shoulder – rock solid under his heavy coat. “I believe I was here first.” Her words smoked in the air between them.

He turned slowly, raising his left eyebrow. His gaze lowered to her feet, then back to her face. Piercing blue eyes locked on her brown ones. “Yeah right.” His gaze lowered again. This time it came to rest on her chest.

Irene’s shoulders hunched forward in automatic response even though no one could see her breasts through her parka. She drew breath to speak, but it whooshed out in another cloud of smoke as he turned his back on her.

“Well I never . . . ” She began in her most irritated voice.

He glanced back. “Probably the heart of your problem. I’d help you with that, but I’m on a tight schedule.”

"Oh my God!" Irene stared at his chiseled face. "You sounded just like Cary Grant!"

"Really," he said in clipped syllables. "And you, my dear, are the image of Doris Day."

"Oh. My. God." Irene bit her bottom lip for a moment. "Is it fate? What do you think this means?"

"We both wanted to sleep with Rock Hudson?"

As Irene's jaw dropped, the man stepped forward to the service counter. "Well," he said, glancing back at her, "I guess I got there before you twice now."


Opening: Sarah L......Continuation: Anonymous

Thursday's Comment Black Hole

I spent most of Thursday wondering why no one was sending comments and feeling unloved and considering whether the problem was Blogger or me. Now several people have written to say I didn't post their comments. If you sent a comment Thursday and it's not posted I didn't get it. It's possible some "First Meeting" writing exercises were also affected. The ones I've received are from:

Buffy
Robin
Wife Meeter
Dave K.
McKoala
Below this are those I've received since posting this message
luke
Kobayashi
Bernita
Elizabeth Joy Arnold
Dave F.
Sarah
Deborah K. White
Brittany
Talpianna
Chro
Bill Highsmith

The only Guess the Plot I received yesterday was McKoala's which was time-stamped 11:42 PM. I have several with today's date, but if you sent one yesterday, resend. Also, if you sent a continuation yesterday I didn't get it. If you sent a query or an opening you can check to see if it's in the queue at Evileditor.net (query) or evil editor's openings (link in sidebar).

Writing Exercise Hall of Fame

I've placed a link to a new blog I created over in the left sidebar. It's a collection of some of my favorite writing exercise results. If you're new and too busy to read the archives, or you're a regular who like to revisit stuff, check it out. I could easily have made it three times as long, but decided that would be too much. Sorry I didn't use yours; it's subjective. This doesn't cover all the writing exercises. The more recent ones haven't been retired long enough to be eligible for the Hall of Fame.

New Beginning 416

The woman disturbed me.

Not so much by her presence, it was normal for women to present themselves at the hall with claims against neighbours or even their own family, but this woman's very statement reeked off wrongness. Despite this, I managed to remain calm. "Would you care to repeat what you just said?"

She smiled. "I have performed acts of witchery."

Which was a lie. A woman is too pure to be corrupted by demons. When I stated this, she again smiled. "I chose to."

Another lie. "No one chooses to consort with demons. They are recruited against their will and need to be rescued."

At my words, she no longer smiled, but neither did her face register the fear that I expected. If anything, she seemed concerned that we would deny her claim.

At least it would be an easy claim to find the lie in. Finding truth within the statements of demonisers and witches was my expertise, although the wretches I usually dealt with tried to deny involvement, not admit to it.

Still, the process would be the same.

The woman had a curious expression on her face as she held up a long broom.

"I sometimes ride on this."

"My own grandchild has a hobby horse," I countered.

"My skin is burned with the seal of the demon Norklookchabub."

"Are you sure you didn't burn your hand while cooking a stew?"

"I wear only black dresses," she declared.

"Every woman has a simple black dress."

"If you throw me in the lake, I'll float."

"Is that a joke?"

"I sacrificed three virgins last week."

"Heh, I gave that a try myself."

The woman paused, unsure of herself for the first time. I smiled inwardly. I always got the best of them in time. "So," she said, "no matter what I say, you are convinced I'm not a witch?"

"It is the power of simple reason, madam."

The woman mumbled slowly as she left: "Man. The Inquisition ain't what it used to be."

Opening: Xenith.....Continuation: Pacatrue

First Meeting

While writing exercises that require actual work usually draw 8 or 10 people, those we've had that involved submitting excerpts from your books (death scenes, first kisses, dialogue) have drawn far more. But I'm willing to try another one anyway. Send me a scene from a work of fiction, a scene in which two characters who will play a pivotal role meet for the first time.

Submission deadline Friday, midnight eastern time. Word limit: 225; if the actual scene is longer, cut it off, as longer ones will be deleted. Include a name if you want people to know it's yours. If you prefer to compose a scene as a writing exercise, rather than send one you've previously written, that's fine. One submission per customer. Submit as a comment to this post.

Those Wacky Terrorists

Below are fake plots that have appeared here--Except they aren't all fake. Some turned out to be the actual plots. Which ones?


1. Cher, Bjork, and Paris Hilton, all murdered in one day. Coincidence? Or the new fashion-conscious terrorist group, The Blackwell Brigade?

2. Kareem Akbar Kalib is a terrorist on the run in the United States. With the DHS hot on his trail Kalib turns to the only place he can find safe refuge –the Democratic National Convention.

3. Fleeing bombs from cave to cave is tough, but Bin Laden's fatal mistake comes when the falafel he orders from the Peshawar Dominos is delivered by a suicide bomber.

4. The Mullah, a strict fundamentalist, finds that raising his 15-year-old daughter in Miami is a bigger challenge than his day job at the Miami mosque--training recruits for an attack on the American infidels.

5. She knew there was something funny about the way he decorated his bachelor pad. But she had no way of knowing that she had stumbled into . . . The Lair of a Terrorist.

6. Kidnaped by terrorists who are driving her to Ordino, Mandy escapes with the hunky terrorist, Sendoa, who has fallen in love with her. But Ziggy, the terrorists' interim leader, is hot on their trail. Will the chase take them . . . beyond Ordino?

7. When hunky CIA agent Bronk Lewis disappears, it's up to his twin brother to take his place and thwart the Aleksandrs, a Cold War-era sleeper cell of terrorists planning to spill anarchy into the streets of America.

8. Ex-Navy Seal, Dave Zepper, has seen things that still keep him up at night. Now, he just wants to live out his golden years, seated behind the front desk of the Library of Congress. But when Saudi terrorists break in to destroy a sacred Shi'a text, Zepper realizes that only one man can check them out . . . The Librarian.

9. After bird-crime investigator Rhoda Deerwalker breaks up a parrot smuggling ring in Wisconsin, she takes on her biggest case yet: bringing down a survivalist militia group devoted to weaponizing bird flu and killing millions. Can she make them sing like canaries, or will she be forced to eat crow?



Answers below





The real plots are numbers

4, 6, 7 and 9

New Beginning 415

His name was Ethan and he was a supermarket clerk. Renée knew this not because they had been living next door to each other in the same small apartment complex for over two years, but because she bought most of her groceries from the neighborhood Scolari's where he manned the express lane, ten items or less. His uniform consisted of a long red apron and a thin, rectangular name tag, bright green, with Ethan pressed across it in clear white type. Some of the bolder employees donned matching green baseball caps, but he was thankfully not of this minority.

As a neighbor he was passable, soft-spoken and distant, and together they had cultivated a perfectly empty relationship: brief acknowledgments in the mail room, elevator rides bloated with awkward pleasantries, practical conversations about construction on the roof or next week's garbage collection. As a supermarket clerk, he was well trained, but not obnoxious, quietly letting her slip by with eleven cans of soup or a limit-breaking bag of carrots. She had seen him around the grocery store for at least a year before he moved onto her floor, pushing carts in the parking lot and stacking up bags of charcoal, and had learned nothing since that his uniform hadn't already confirmed. They usually met at the cash register, smiling complacently over her club card and a carton of milk, and she always found herself making some superfluous comment about the joint nature of their lives.

That was how it progressed until that fateful autumn day when he tintinnabulated Renée's bell. She opened her door and there he stood, still in uniform. They scanned each other and knew that instant they were an item; the one item over the limit. They drifted to the bedroom without effort. Renée didn't feel her legs proceeding; it was like she was on a conveyor.

They unwrapped each other with unpracticed ease and fell to the mattress. "Be careful with the eggs," she said. "Oh, and what about the juice?"

He paused and sighed. "Paper, or plastic?"


Opening: Regina.....Continuation: Anonymous

Face-Lift 461

Guess the Plot

Garlic

1. A shy carrot, a silly potato, and a twerpy bunch of celery go downtown in search of the bravest vegetable of all . . . Garlic!

2. Tommy's a student at Vampire Tech, where he takes courses like Remedial Blood Sucking, but he has a problem: his favorite food is garlic, and they don't serve garlic at the Vampire Tech cafeteria. What's an Italian vampire to do?

3. An epidemic of terrible disease spreads across North America. For three days, patients seem to have influenza. On day four they become zombies. But everyone at the Happy Hills Organic Herb Farm and Goat Dairy collective commune in Tennessee stays healthy. President Hannah Jones reads the Top Secret report from the CDC and wonders: could it really be -- the garlic?

4. Dating was never such a pleasure. Margo is happy to be married, because it means no more limiting her garlic consumption. But how can her husband Percy take it? One more clove, and he's rushing out the door and into the arms of Jolene Trumbull, vampire librarian.

5. When Mr. and Mrs. Potatohead are found dead in the bottom of the refrigerator, it's up to ace homicide detective Tiny Peas to find the culprit before he kills again. But when Tiny confronts dark secrets in the crisper drawer, she realizes that to solve the case, she'll have to team up with her arch-rival, a root known only as . . . The Turnip.

6. Rob Windruff, who works in the mayor's office of a small, mid-western town, in a bid to attract new residents, comes up with the slogan Get A Real Life In Charlestown. He didn't notice the acronym, but when the garlic jokes start and he loses his job, he is forced to reevaluate his life. And then the vampires arrive.


Original Version

Dear Editor,

I found your information on blah and am submitting this query to you because blah, blah, blah. [While I realize your actual query won't say "Blah, blah, blah," it blahs me that it would be refreshing to receive a query that blah blah blahed. It's not like I pay any attention to why you blah blahed me, so blah blah blah.]

Tommy loves his Italian Dad’s cooking, especially the garlic. But being half vampire means that garlic will be in the zits that pop up all over his face [, and he's tired of his father making him pop his zits into the spaghetti sauce just to get out of pressing garlic cloves]. His mother, afraid that Tommy’s too steeped in human culture and human food, packs him off to Vampire-Tech. Tommy starts the new school year by making an enemy – Garth, the school’s biggest bully and Tommy’s assigned mentor.

On top of that, Tommy’s stuck in classes, like remedial blood sucking, with full-blooded vampires half his age who know a lot more about being a vampire. With physical differences – like the human blood running through his veins – making his half-blood obvious, [How does anyone know what kind of blood is running through his veins? What are the observable physical differences?] Tommy’s nicknamed Garlic. [The other nerds are nicknamed Cross, Wooden Stake, and Holy Water.] Though it’s meant to be an insult, he has a hard time feeling insulted by his favorite food.

Tommy gets a chance to get back at Garth when the math teacher assigns Tommy to be Garth’s tutor. If Tommy doesn’t help him, Garth won’t graduate. [On the other hand,] If Garth doesn’t graduate, he’ll be back at school the next year. It’s a tough choice and Garth isn’t making it any easier. He doesn’t want Garlic anywhere near him. [If it's a tough choice, Garth is making it easier. I contend that it's an easy choice, but Garth isn't cooperating when he avoids Garlic.]

Tommy struggles to find acceptance and to turn Garlic into a name worth having.

Garlic is a 25,000 word upper middle grade fantasy. Its gross factor is aimed at young men who like such things as the Grossology Museum Tour.

Thank you for your time and consideration. [Be consistent. Change that to Blah blah blah, blah blah.]


Notes

Your two main characters are named Garlic and Garth. Maybe too similar for speed readers.

So mother is a vampire and father isn't? Does mom mind that dad has garlic in the house? What is mom's diet?

Otherwise, blah blah blah.

Reality TV Results . . .

. . . have been published as comments with the original post. (They were to have been gathered into a post of their own, but there were only two responses.) Scroll down to Dec. 1 if you're interested.

New Beginning 414

She told me he’d been heavenly, back before the war.

“He was almost too pretty for a man,” my friend said. “Almost beautiful.”

The first time I found him, Joe was not too pretty, curled up in a flannel-shirted fetal position, lying on a thick plank of a lacquered wooden table, with his mouth hanging wide open, as though he’d invited all the neighborhood flies in for a landing party. His eyes were closed. His feet were naked. Under the low-watt yellow light bulbs, he looked just about dead.

And he didn’t look too tasty either, unless you happened to like the taste of those bloated, pickled eggs that sit in large jars in corner bars in run-down urban pioneer parts of town, like this place was. The kind of bar that seems really cool when you’re young and you like to listen to the people on the barstools in the bar talking, solving the world’s problems by the seats of their pants. ‘Cause what they have to say seems so refreshingly candid. So real. Then you go back years later, and the same people are still sitting there solving the latest world problems with the same shtick solutions. And the eggs in the jars look like they may be the same ones as well, except maybe they’re a tad greener. And those eggs are distinctive in taste, all right, but who really wants to eat one?

Well, I couldn’t imagine anyone really wanting to take a bite out of this guy either. Not anymore; pretty boy’d been buried under a pile of drunk. So this flannel, fetal, pickled egg of a man and I were alone there in this bar, in the middle of the day, and she’d said Joe’d be there, tending bar, said it was for certain, so I guessed this was Joe, and I looked down at him and I mean I really looked him over, the way you can only look someone over when you’re sure they’re asleep. But he wasn’t asleep.

He wasn't asleep like my father was never asleep when I snuck back into the house after curfew at the ripe age of sixteen. That was the age when driving around for hours, bashing mailboxes with baseball bats while drinking cheap domestic beer made us men, men like my father.

He made sure I didn't still think that, when I got home and crept past his faux-stupor only to see him rise like a zombie in those movies that were popular before the war. His belt lashed against me like a granite statue of Thomas Jefferson, one that somehow managed to wrap around my father's waist after he was done with me. He whupped me good, just like he whupped the Germans during the war. That is, until he whupped a land mine, and for the first time in his life, someone whupped back with an explosion that made it possible for them to carry him back to us in a shoebox.

They'd be able to do the same to us, me and this pickled Joe, if I didn't tell him about the bomb and get us out within two minutes. As I idly wondered how long I'd been here staring at his yellowed, not-too-tasty skin, I heard an eruption of flames behind me. It erupted like the stove after--


Opening: Robin Sinnott.....Continuation: Chro

Face-Lift 460

Guess the Plot

Weathercaller

1. When Franny McVane got that new duck whistle for hunting season, she was hoping to summon ducks, not hurricanes. Now that she has the whistle, however, she wonders how much the people of Whitley, Montana will pay to be hurricane-free this year.

2. It is a dream come true for teenager Steffy Swanberg, aspiring actress, when she lands a spot on the "Weathercaller" show, in which participants vie to predict the weather. Too bad her first episode will be her last, unless a tornado really does destroy Fargo.

3. Chicago weatherman Freddie Hearst's biggest "fan" swears on the air that he's going to kill Freddie. Why? Freddie has predicted a sunny weekend that was instead greeted by rain - again. And apparently everyone else in Chicagoland feels the same way, because as the caller's threats become more terrifying, the ratings skyrocket.

4. Jonathan is a Weathercaller: he uses the imprisoned souls of dead wizards to summon rain. But now he's been arrested and sentenced to have his own soul imprisoned. Now I wonder, still I wonder, who'll call the rain?

5. When Dave hacked into "Project Weathercaller" he thought it was a computer game. He had no idea it was the super secret center coordinating America's 27 spy agencies. Soon Agent 419 is torturing kidnapped undercover lingerie model Mae Wong in a Polish dungeon, desperate to find a box of plutonium that never even existed. And a bomb-laden drone is flying toward Poland to vaporize them both.

6. Rob Jones is the worst TV weather guy in the world, so his future looks doubtful--until he meets weather goddess Glorietta. It's love at first sight, so she decides to help out, adjusting the weather to fulfill his forecasts. But when Springfield is treated to blizzard, flood, and heat wave -- all in three hours--no one is pleased.



Original Version

I am seeking representation for "Weathercaller," a fantasy novel with romance elements, complete at 100,000 words.

Delia has two jobs: one everyone knows about, and one she must never speak of.

Her first job is to act as Second [and her second job is to act as First. Is this a Who's on first routine, or a Monty Python skit? Let me guess: Her third job is to play first violin in the Fifth Dimension's Fourth of July concert.] to Jonathan, a Weathercaller responsible for summoning rain to a thirsty land. Pulling the clouds over the mountains is not easy; to accomplish it, Delia and Jonathan must draw power from bondspirits, the imprisoned souls of long-dead wizards. [They have the power to imprison souls, but they need to hire a guy to make it rain?]

Delia's second job is to engage in some espionage on behalf of a magistrate named Marcus, who, in return for her service, has promised to deal leniently with her imprisoned brother. Marcus believes Jonathan is engaged in treasonous research and may intend to free the bondspirits. If he frees the bondspirits, the populace will starve. Marcus charges Delia with observing Jonathan's activities, collecting evidence of his wrongdoing, and sabotaging his research.

Delia has no qualms about exposing a traitor, but as she gets to know Jonathan, she discovers he's not one. He's right to want to free the bondspirits, who are tortured souls, cruelly enslaved and denied the afterlife. [She discovers this just from getting to know Jonathan?] His "treasonous" research consists of adapting drought-resistant crops to the region-crops that could be grown without the aid of bondspirits. [Won't that put him out of a job? Ever notice that you don't see Exxon-Mobil trying to invent cars that run without gas or oil?] To make matters worse, she's falling in love with him.

She regrets having passed so much information along to Marcus. She's afraid Jonathan will discover her duplicity, and worries still more what will happen to her brother if she reneges on her contract with Marcus. But when Jonathan is arrested and sentenced to be enslaved as a bondspirit, [Bondspirits are the souls of long-dead wizards. Thus I infer that Jonathan is a wizard, but that he has so little power he can't escape a prison. And that they have the ability to capture his soul. And that they think they can get rain without him.] she knows she must act, to save not only Jonathan's soul, but her own.

I would be happy to send you a partial or full manuscript. Thank you for your time.


Notes

Who, specifically, has imprisoned the dead wizards' souls? Marcus? The populace? An evil overlord?

You say Marcus believes Jonathan is engaged in treasonous research. Is he a misguided good guy or a bad guy?

Is Delia's brother imprisoned justly? What's the charge?

Given that if he frees the bondspirits the populace will starve, I assume that if Jonathan plans to free the bondspirits, he also has a plan to feed everyone?

If you're going to enslave your Weathercaller, shouldn't you wait until after he develops his drought-resistant crops?

It reads okay, but I'd like a few questions cleared up.

Writing Exercise Results

The task was to write a scene in which you're a private detective hired by a minion to spy on Evil Editor.


1.
I had a good view of the window, but the tree I was hiding behind didn't give me much shelter. Fortunately he had left the bedroom light on. The view was superb - EE blocked very little of the luscious naked nordic blue eyed blonde.

I pulled out my notebook and began writing. Then I shot my picture. Shoot! I forgot to turn the flash off. EE suddenly left the blonde where she lay but was not yet laid and headed for his front door.

I tried to flee but tripped over a Deus Ex Machina. Camera and notebook went flying as I sprawled on the grass. Before I could even get up, he had grabbed the notebook and was screaming in my face.

"'Was hiding' is passive writing! You have four adjectives forming an ugly cliche! One of those should be hyphenated, or better yet omitted along with a couple of others. Shot, shoot. Too cute. You end two dialogue sentences in a row with exclamation points - twice!

'Hiding behind a tree' - you're not a detective, you're a living cliche! I'm calling the police if you overuse one more word."

EE grabbed the camera from the ground.

I said eagerly, "You can keep the film!"

EE snapped back, "One more attempt to inflict your amateur photography on me and I really will call them. When I told my Minion I needed someone to take photos for Christmas cards, I didn't want some sort of Keystone Private Dick!"

I took the camera he handed me in bewildered silence. As he strode back to the house, I could hear him mutter, "The candid pictures were a good idea though."

--David Weisman


2.
A sudden gust of wind shook my car in spite of the sheltering branches of the row of lilacs next to the street. The cold light of the full moon glinted off the hood of my car, threatening to reveal my presence to any curious eyes that might be in the vicinity. I raised my eyes and squinted into the unexpected brilliance of the icy orb above me. The Hunter's Moon, I thought, grinning . At any moment I expected to see the gleam of headlights as Evil Editor left with one of his minions.

There was a canary yellow roadster parked with its nose pointed down the drive and lights on in the house . Moving shadows against the window shades told me there was at least one other person in the house.

A faint crunching sound alerted me to the possibility there might be others, so I opened my door as quietly as I could and began creeping in the direction of the noise.

I was suddenly aware of a looming shadow and cursed as a blackjack slammed into the back of my head.

A constellation of stars retreated to my peripheral vision and was replaced by the shimmering countenance of Evil Editor himself as my vision cleared.

“Your mistakes were so elementary and numerous it seems a waste of my time to attempt to correct you,” he purred. “What made you think you could assume the identity of a hard boiled detective and sneak your way into my lair?”

He casually waved to a minion. “There’s no point in my wasting time on this punk. Dispose of him in the usual way!”

--Dan Smith


3.
"Inspector Weannous reporting for duty, Sir." An eager young soldier decked out in human clothing snapped to attention and saluted. The stench of human aftershave made my noses twitch. He wore a garish kilt with spats, hose tops, red doublet, patterned cape and pith helmet. He looked about as ready for inconspicuous surveillance and skullduggery as my Aunt Fanny's gay Uncle Ugo.

"Weannous, Weannous, Weannous, Weannous, what is that?"

"I'm hunting down THE criminal mastermind of the galaxy, a nefarious purveyor of wanton lewdness, cacophonous calamity and persimmonous perdition, the worm in the apple, the profligate offspring, the ill wind of..."

"Are you going to deliver speech like that when you walk among the humans?"

"I've read everything that has come through the quantum fire, Sir. Ever since we placed that device in his fireplace, the evil one has been feeding it regularly and I've read it all. From Amanda Pissedherpants, through mindless zombie cows, around the prickly phallus of continuations, beyond the splattered kumquats of queries to the vile and pestilential weredingo."

"My cup of patience just curdled. Go take that off and wear the filthy hobo outfit that you wore last week."

"I don't want to lay on a brownstone stoop in a puddle of urine, stinking of wine vomit."

"That's what detectives do, Weanous."

"But I so wanted to be a novel deviation. Now all I'll be is a damp drunken doofus on a doorstep."

"You whine like a good Weannous, boy."

--Dave F.


4.
11:20 AM: subject EE drops off some lady's wigs at a dry cleaning shop.

11:45 AM: EE takes lunch at White Castle. God. Subject pocketed a fistful of Splenda.

12:15 PM: EE Makes semaphore signals out the window of his taxi towards a 27th Street POD publisher. He's ejected from taxi at gunpoint. Hails another taxi.

12:45 PM: subject enters barber shop for mutton chop trimming and pomading. God.

3:20 PM: trimming took longer than expected. Subject is particular about the chops; several shoving matches ensued with the lady barber. Subject left a Novel Deviations 2 as a tip; another shoving match ensued.

3:40 Subject returns to dry cleaner for wigs.

4:10 Subject visits Big Gurl's Dress Shop. EE seems to like pail yellows, but settles for a grey tunic and gown. Exits shop in tunic and wig and begins hailing cabs.

6:10 Subject still has not successfully hailed a cab (34 failures). Wait, he's got one now. No, the cabbie stole EE's pocketbook and starts backing away. I intervene because my life seems to be on hold during this gig.

6:15 Without revealing my cover, I offer to take subject to his destination. Along the way, subject rails about "minions" (will investigate reference later). Apparently, they're lowlifes who torment him in some way. Not clear whether these minions are real or imagined. He's seeking help, apparently, through some church lady.

6:48 I arrive at subject's destination, an out-of-the-way Victorian house. EE gets key from the butt of a stone gryphon on the stairway. The house has no mailbox or street number marking. Have GPS info and will Google the place later. I'm off the clock.

9:45 PM: Investigation follow-up: the house entered by subject EE belongs to a Miss Snark. It occurs to me, considering the dress and wig, to investigate whether Miss Snark is an alternate or stolen identity for EE.

--Bill Highsmith


5.
She looked a little taken aback when she saw me walkin’ her way down Fifth Avenue. Looked to me like she was hopin’ I wouldn’t look as amazin’ as I do. Look, that is. With my feather boas and my midnight blue glow-in-the-dark mascara and all.

I guess she thought she was the only one allowed to have people lookin’ at her. Men, that is.

She couldn’t have been more wrong. I wasn’t a fade-in-the-background kind of detective, and I wasn’t plannin’ on changin’. For anybody. Especially this shrimpy little nutbag.

For a chick barely five feet tall, her mouth sure could pack a punch. She kept talking about how she had to find out where EE lived, no matter what, no matter the cost (I liked that part, by the way). I had to stop her from speakin’ a coupla times, because she just talked on and on, in this run-on sentence kinda way, in this stupid soundin’ accent. It was annoyin’. Really, it was.

On and on she went. “…and also, Miss Chris, I want you to find out…(and she whispered somethin’ in my ear here that I’m not remotely repeatin’).

“Yeah, lady, like I read fuckin’ minds. Like mind readin’ is in my fuckin’ contract.”

She looked up at me, gave me what I guessed was Her High-Nass’s version of a mad face, and went on. And on.

“But most of all, I want to know where he lives. I want his address. It seems to me like it has to be somewhere in this city. And I know it’s got to be a special place where he’s ensconced. Because he’s simply the kind of man who’d be ensconced somewhere special. He’d insist on it.”

I waited. There’d be more. Three…Two…One…and here it came. ”Have you been listening to me at all, Miss Chris? Have you? And also, I read quite recently on his blog that he may shave his chest.” What the HELL, I was thinkin’, but no, she wasn’t finished just yet…”Now I want you to find out about that as well, but for God’s sake, don’t get too close to him. Good Lord. Just take pictures for me, so I can see if he looks like what I think he looks like. Oh. And if you try and touch him, I’ll hurt you. Got it?”

“Oh, yeah, lady. I got it all right. No. Really. I got it.”

And I was tellin’ her the truth. I had it, but I was takin’ my time tellin’ her all about it, that’s all. A girl’s gotta eat, know what I mean? Comin’ in on the train from Hicksville like this nutbag chick did, she had no way of knowin’ that anybody who was anybody here in the city already knew where EE lived. In a few days I’d tell her to look at those little colored lines on her subway map, and to take that pretty color there…

--Robin S.


6.
Renee Johnson, Johnny Re to her fellow transsexuals, leaned back in her car. She turned, watching the apartment building, waiting for a guy, Evil Editor by name, to come out. The emails from Church Lady and Robyn S. stated he staggered a lot and sported shaggy red hair.

She took a long drag on her cigarette, remembering the sweet smell of Church Lady and Robyn S's money orders, then cracked open the window to blow out the smoke. Twelve noon, she thought, her eyes squinting at the building's glass front door. Shouldn't he be taking a ride to find some smooth hooch and a hot hoochie?

"I've really got to stop reading those novel beginnings," Johnny Re said, running a hand over her face. She started when someone tapped her on the shoulder, the cigarette falling from her hands onto her crotch. "Yeow! What'd you do that for?" She quieted down as the man shook his full head of red hair.

Evil Editor, she thought, waiting for him to say something.

"Hey," he said, "how'd you like to join me for lunch--and something a little more afterwards."

Johnny Re smiled. Evil Editor would get more than a little afterwards.

--Nancy Beck


7.
I'd been waiting up the street six hours with no activity when the garage door opened and his car flew out. It had to be him; you don't buy a black Lamborghini and then let someone else get behind the wheel. I followed.

First stop was a day spa on 53rd. I took a look in the window. A pedicurist was using a hammer and chisel on his foot calluses. Christ, they don't pay me enough to witness that crap. I went next door for a cup of Joe and some sweet potato pie.

An hour later he comes out and heads south. He pulls into the 47th Street post office parking lot, parks in a handicap space, and goes inside. Ten minutes later he wheels out a laundry bin filled with nine by twelve envelopes and dumps 'em in his trunk.

He has lunch at Per Se. Then he's off again and he backs into a dark alley on 42nd, all the way to the end. He pops the trunk, gets out, and throws all the envelopes into a dumpster. Made no sense to me, so when he left I didn't follow him. I went dumpster diving. Turns out the envelopes all contained manuscripts. I read a few by penlight. Brilliant work, every last one of 'em. Couldn't put 'em down.

Next thing I know it's morning and the dumpster's being lifted into the air and I'm in the back of a garbage truck. I end up at the dump, stinking to high heaven, and vowing to change occupations. Anyway, I wrote up the whole story. It's an amusing noir detective novel, about 60,000 words. Can I send you a partial?

--EE

Reality TV

With the TV writers on strike in the US, there'll soon be nothing on except reality TV. Possibly the networks should consider the following reality TV show ideas, all of which have appeared here as fake plots--except the one that turned out to be the real plot.


1. Fifteen years after her daring escape from Iran, Betty faces an even greater challenge: for the love of her family, she is competing for a million dollars on a cruel, demeaning summer reality-TV show.

2. Gala Peterson thought it sounded like fun: joining the cast of a new reality show, to be filmed in the remote Pacific islands where pirates and cannibals had once ruled. But the last challenge for the tribes is a deadly one--eat or be eaten.

3. Vampire puberty sucks bad enough, but when it's Chance's time to Turn into a full-fledged vampire, he's drafted for the wildly popular reality television show Fang Time.

4. Soul Haven’s hippy parents were lucky to survive the 60's; and their chubby daughter was lucky to survive school. Forty years later and forty kilos overweight, Soul’s last chance is a reality TV show where participants sell their souls in exchange for weight loss.

5. Hunky firefighters seemed like a great reality TV show idea--until the pent-up man-passion became hotter than the blazes they fought.

6. The Bachelor meets Rawhide, as 20 women converge on cowboy Riley's ranch, each hoping he'll choose her as his wife in his own personal reality show.

7. With the best of intentions, Bob stole Mary's lunch, helping her to lose weight. With the best of intentions, Mary stole Bob's BMW, hoping to bolster his humility. With the best of intentions, Bob burned down Mary house, hoping she would find a better place to live. Will Bob and Mary ever escape reality TV hell?

8. Competing with reality TV, on-demand movies, video games and more was putting Bob’s sport franchise out of business. Needing a new slant on an old sport, Bob is inspired to create Blades of the Fallen – combining the grace and beauty of ice skating with the action and blood of ultimate fighting.


Of course those won't be enough to fill the schedule, so feel free to suggest additional reality show ideas. Send them as comments; I'll collect them and post the funniest ones.


Answer below

The real plot was #6.

New Beginning 413

"Julyeis! Get up here now, woman! Julyeis!"

Varoul's bellowing was loud enough to pass though the stone flag floors to the basement where Julyeis had her office. Luckily she was still dressed; she had been tallying the evening's takings and finalising next week's budget. She pulled a shawl over her shoulders as she went to see what her owner needed at this late hour.

He was standing in the main hallway, his craggy features dancing in the flicker of the oil lamps burning low on the walls.

"Is there a problem, Varoul?"

"That stupid bitch Zhamelle! Does she think this is some cheap hostel where she can rent a room for an hour?"

She was tired; she didn't bother to hide her yawn from him when it caught her throat.

"Quiet, Varoul! Tell me what she's done and I'll see if I can sort it out."

"Come!" he said, turning towards the main stairs leading to the upper levels. "Come and see!"

Julyeis traipsed up the stairs in Varoul's shadow, her knowledge of the Inn's twisted corridors offsetting the lack of light.

Varoul pushed open one of the guest room doors and stepped inside. With a sigh, Julyeis followed.

"See?" said Varoul. "Two cameramen, a boom operator, a Foley puller, a best boy and a gaffer. Where does the money come from for all this?"

Zhamelle stepped forward. "When we sell the rights to Cinemax and then edit in the hard-core scenes for re-sale to Spice Network, the money'll be rolling in," she said.

Julyeis suppressed a grin. Varoul worried about pennies, but it was she and Zhamelle who'd worked out a way to make real money at the Cottontail Ranch.


Opening: Rik.....Continuation: Anonymous