Evil Editor's Blog, page 118

Feedback Request

Below is a revised version of the query featured in Face-Lift 1161. The author would appreciate your comments.


Dear Evil Editor,
I believe that my 85,000-word historical fantasy, Avalyn, is the type novel you are looking to represent. The story of Avalyn is set in late 12th c. England.  Avalyn’s father raised her around their humble servant’s hearth, [They have a servant? Who has a hearth? That's what it sounds like. I can't find any evidence that there's something called a servant's hearth, so perhaps you mean a hearth that is used by servants, in which case the apostrophe goes after the "s."] spinning tales about the Celtic Faerie Otherworld. Though the two live in a Christian manor, his stories have eased her into her training as a Celtic shaman. In secret, the two escape [Are they prisoners? From whom are they escaping?] under the protection of the forest to practice rituals that will train her body for the occupation. [What is the occupation?] In turn she sacrifices each of her senses for a matter of days, only to have them renewed with ferocity, heightening each sense. The renewal of her senses opens her mind to the capabilities of her body, necessary for the practice. [What practice? Are you talking about the practice of the rituals that you mentioned two sentences ago? The practice of shamanism?]
             The rituals also awaken her to bodily desires, and she finds herself falling for her best friend, Dylan, an orphaned ward of the church. The two live a moment in the bliss of young love. [A moment? Define "moment."] But one night when a ritual has stripped her sense of touch, she causes a fire that claims the life of both Dylan and her father. [I see no reason to point out she had no sense of touch, when the other senses can easily detect fire. Just say she caused a fire.]           Guilt-ridden, Avalyn realizes the true sacrifices that her pagan faith has begotten. She settles into a simpler existence, and marries a good Christian man. But glimpses of her lost love, Dylan, living among Celtic Otherworld tempt her back to her Old Ways. [Why is "Old Ways" capitalized?] [Bland wrap-up. What is her goal in returning to her old ways? Does she want to dump her husband and go to this Otherworld? Does she have to die to go there? If that's her dilemma, say so.]              If you are interested, I will gladly send you my completed manuscript.

New Beginning 1018

Tim’s azure eyes bore into mine. “I can see you’re holding back some anger and – what’s this? Confusion?”

He speaks softly but its authority fills the room. His voice seems to come from a deeper place than ordinary mortals’ voices might. Rich and smooth as aged whiskey, sometimes I ignore his words and let the voice transport me to a mellow place, a place as ageless as OM.

I nod, and a wave of shame flares though me. It’s no use hiding my thoughts. My aura radiates any hint of negativity that courses through me, no match for Tim’s acuity. I now strive to keep my feelings calm, even when I am not in Tim’s presence. Armed with the knowledge that thoughts have a physical manifestation and are laughingly obvious to those enlightened by Higher Knowledge, every breath is now aligned with my aim to present only a shining aura to the world.

Avoiding Tim’s gaze is impossible. Even strangers who cross his path turn around for a better look. His presence resonates with the hum of the universe. Animals sense this immediately and are attracted to him.

“Yes, my teacher. My parents have been asking...difficult questions.”

His eyes don’t change.

“The path your parents have chosen is different to the path you have chosen. They will contaminate your pure spirit with destructive energy and doubt. Focus yourself on the path you wish to travel.”

“They’re trying to stop me from freeing myself of the burdens of material wealth.”

“And do you have any to unburden this morning?”

I reach into my jeans pocket, pull out the six hundred pounds from last night, and hand it to him. There is a flicker of joy in his eyes which pleases me immensely.

He stares deeply into my eyes. “You are doing well and nearing a higher plane. Jenny is moving to the Higher Knowledge Plane and soon you will leave your corner and take her place at the Cosmo Bar. You enjoy giving pleasure?”

I hear myself say, “Yes. I enjoy giving pleasure.”

“You are a worthy disciple. Now go and rest; you’ll be busy tonight.”

I walk out feeling joy in my heart.


Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: Mister Furkles

Evil Editor Classics

Due to a few complaints about illegible captchas, I've removed the captcha feature from comment modification. I would have done this sooner, but I was unfamiliar with the term "captcha," and assumed the complaints were coming from inebriated spambots.

I've now done some research on the topic, and to save my minions from having to do the same, shall summarize what I've learned.

Captcha (short for Captain Chaos) is a test you must perform in order to convince a computer that you are not a computer. For instance, say it's yesterday and you wish to comment on one of Evil Editor's blog posts. You type out a lengthy comment which is sure to entertain and enlighten the Evil Minions. In order to publish the comment, you must, of course, get it past Evil Editor’s Evil Eye™, but first you must pass the captcha test, in which a series of letters are displayed, and you must type them. Failure to correctly reproduce the series of letters is evidence that you aren't a human, and we don't want you here.

The earliest captchas were easy to read. It was believed that computers couldn't actually read or write, and thus would be unable to reproduce a string of letters such as:
Turned out computers wanted to comment on Evil Editor's blog so badly that they evolved the ability to read and write.

But humans are nothing if not clever, and came up with the idea of distorting the string of letters: The idea was to make it so the computer couldn't read the letters. But a lot of humans couldn't read the letters. They couldn't tell whether that was a "w" or two "v"s., an issue that didn't seem to bother the computers, who were able to use their "undo" function to undistort the string of letters. So while humans were thinking, Shit, that must have been an r, I'll have to try again, computers were thinking, Aha, it's an r. The humans will never get it.

But humans are nothing if not persistent, so they came up with the idea of putting the letters really close together:
But finding the perfect size that would fool computers and not send humans to the opthamologist proved impossible.

Next came the idea of a squiggle through the distorted letters:
Humans thought, Is that an l or a t?
Computers thought, Humans are so cute.

Next came distorted close letters and blurred letters:

What programmers had yet to realize was that computers enjoy solving puzzles, and humans don't. That New York Times crossword puzzle you couldn't get halfway through? A computer could do it in a billionth of a second.

But humans are nothing if not stubborn, so you can expect to see a new generation of captchas soon:

Seems we'll do anything to keep computers out of our computers.



Update
In the few days since I released the minions from captcha misery, I've received 43 comments that turned out to be someone telling me what a great blog I have and providing a link to their blog. Such as:


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my blog post Same Day Payday Loans
 
Much as I enjoy the flattery, I can't risk letting one of these comments through and having one of you click the link and get invaded by a virus and blaming me. So, try to deal with . . .

Evil Editor Classics

Dear Evil Editor,

I use Comic Sans Serif as my font of choice whenever the option is available (blog, e-mail, discussion forums, etc.). A friend just sent me a copy of a WALL STREET JOURNAL piece about the movement to ban it. I know it would not be appropriate for a manuscript submission, but how about a query letter? And if not, why not? I find it more legible than most fonts myself, as well as clean and elegant. Could you give us your views on "right" and "wrong" fonts for submissions?

It's called comic sans because it's modeled after fonts used in comic books. Also because Evil Editor frequently uses it in cartoon captions. You may argue that the style is used in comics because it's elegant, but more likely it's because kids read comics and younger kids may not be used to serifs. On the other hand, older kids wouldn't be thrilled with this font:



So it's a compromise. (I seem to have lost all my R blocks.)

I don't care what font is used as long as it's not disturbing to look at, for instance Spiders:


or hard to read, for instance Flatline:


or one of those wingdingaling fonts that convert text into a secret code:



but some editors are anal a-holes, and not all of them admit it until they get your query. Then they burn it and pour themselves a stiff drink to help them make it to lunchtime when they can gripe to their fellow editors about your faux pas: "Can you believe it? I got another query today printed in Galliard BT instead of Bookman Old Style. Why do these clueless 'writers' waste my time?"

It's generally accepted that serifs are easier on the eyes, which is why you always find them in longer works. Also, Comic Sans is considered informal, casual, and thus probably not a good idea for a business letter. Plus, go back to the top of the post and compare your question, in Comic Sans, with my answer in Georgia. Then head north and compare it with my answer in South Carolina. Ba dum ching. Seriously, I actually had to have a handwriting expert come in to interpret your question because I thought it was written in Canadian.

In any case, the fact that you love Comic Sans should mean you wish correspondence you receive to be in that font, not correspondence you send. What you send should be in a font the recipient loves. Which is why I ask that you submit future questions in  

Face-Lift 1170

Guess the Plot

Bummin' It

1. Joe Chesterfield rides lonely Wisconsin roads in search of answers to life's meaning with nothing more than an Ipad, a fedora and a suit from Goodwill. Will his resulting memoires be an ageless paean to adolescent angst and freedom? Or will it be proof that the old "Gas, grass or ass" rule of the road is still alive and well?

2. Lance glues a big clown butt on his butt and does a silly dance that will hopefully get his kids to eat oatmeal instead of sugary cereal. Unfortunately, Lance used super glue instead of Elmer's. His board meeting is going to go well at work today.

3. He blew out his flip-flop, cut his heel on a pop top, and his new tattoo has a misspelling. But, by gosh, George is going to enjoy his first solo vacation since his wife left. Also, a shark frenzy.

4. Elijah's parents set him up with the perfect summer job, but Elijah has a better idea: street-corner panhandling with humorous cardboard signs. But when Eli's record haul is stolen by a professional beggar he finds himself in over his head in the city's underbelly. Especially when he falls for the thief's hot daughter.

5. Laid off from his job working with psychiatric patients, Parker dresses like a bum, acts like a schizoid, and demands donations from yuppie shoppers. He’s having fun and clearing hundreds of dollars a day. Then two bodies are discovered in dumpsters and the police suspect Parker. Can he find the real killers before the cops pin double murder on him?

6. Sally's facing foreclosure. Bob just got fired. Mel was kicked out by his parents when they learned he was gay. Their lives intertwine in La La Land as they're all forced to start . . . Bummin' It.


Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

After growing up in the foster system, seventeen-year-old Elijah Briscoe wants more than a house . . . he longs to feel at home – with his adoptive parents, [Are these different from his foster parents? Have they adopted him? Why doesn't he feel at home with them?] his friends, a girl. Especially a girl. Trouble is, nobody warned him that childhood tweaked his inner wiring to make him sabotage any real connection.

So when his parents try to set up their perfect summer job for him [Practice dummy for trainees at the local bordello.], he lies about hunting for his own gig. Secretly, he and his best friends [Has he already sabotaged any real connection with these best friends or is that what happens next?] cook up a quick money-making experiment — street-corner panhandling. Their arsenal of humorous cardboard signs




is rocking awesome until some shady professional beggars rip off Eli’s record-breaking haul. Not about to lose the contest with his bros, Eli chases the thief down to reclaim his money and his pride. [Starting that paragraph with "So" suggests that Elijah thinks panhandling is going to help him feel at home with his parents, friends and especially a girl. It's not clear why he would think that. Perhaps if some of his classmates talk him into the panhandling scheme and he goes along because he craves friendship?]

What he doesn’t know is he’s not the only one chasing the money. His pursuit leads him into a hidden homeless neighborhood [Is "neighborhood" the right word? Maybe "enclave" would be better.] where he runs into Blue, the thief’s street-smart, so-hot daughter. Then when Eli witnesses a group of thugs kidnap Blue’s dad, he quickly realizes his idiotic excuse for a job has him in way over his head. Trying to play the hero, he makes a split-second decision that saves Blue [From what?] but loses her dad.

Fearing how much his choice has cost her, Eli decides he must help before time runs out. [When does time run out?] If they hope to fix this, [If "fix this" means rescue Blue's father, just say that.] they’ll have to help each other face the darkness in the city’s underbelly, the unlikeliness of their romance, and the secrets of their screwed-up pasts.
___________________________

Sincerely,


Notes

If the thugs are just after the money, I would expect them to just take it from Blue's dad. What's the point of kidnapping him? Do they think they can get a ransom?

Even the extremely rare panhandler who can make $73,000 a year is averaging just $200 a day. That might attract attention from thieves who somehow know how much Eli took in, but these thugs going after the thieves? Lets say three thieves steal $200 from Eli, and split it up. Then four thugs kidnap Blue's dad, take his $67 share of the $200, and split it up. They get less than $17 each. There's more money in robbing pizza deliverymen.

That said, the story doesn't sound like the same old same old.

I tend to think that a homeless thief and his so-hot daughter would have gone their separate ways by this point in their lives.

Presumably your completed query includes the book's title (which was in the subject line of the email), word count, genre?

Face-Lift 1169

Guess the Plot

The Guardian

1. Whip-cracking archaeologists may think they can steal the Sacred Stones of Szarbathia, but they're no match for... The Guardian.

2. When an alliance of alien races that has been at war with one militaristic race for decades realize they're losing, they turn to Jason, captain of The Guardian. Can Jason's knowledge of Earth's military history help lead the outclassed Entente to victory?

3. Sheldon thought his luck was bad when he found an infant abandoned on his bus. When the demons come in the night, it's clear his life has dropped into the toilet. Now on the run, Sheldon must employ all his commercial driving skills to keep the baby, and himself, from certain death.

4. It’s the 3rd biggest daily in the U.K. Oil tycoon Freddy Philips buys it and is turning it into a celebrity tabloid. Several investigative reporters conspire to dig up dirt on Freddy and force him to sell. But Freddy's secret international illegal arms syndicate replete with professional assassins will protect Freddy at any cost.

5. Voldy intends to uphold the sacred pact that his people have with the Masters. No evil will befall them while under his care. He will detect, deter, defend and destroy all threats, even if the Masters do not always understand why. And now, late at night, with strange People nearby. He will defend the Masters to his death...or until they put him away in his doggy crate. Don't they understand that those costumed children are a threat?

6. Internal audits have confirmed Ed Snowden's allegations: illegal wire taps at the prestigious newspaper have compromised the anonymity of Molly McGrath's famed informant--The Socialite. Molly runs deep cover at London's club scene to protect The Socialite from incalculable social harm...being disinvited from Prince Harry's 28th birthday bash.



Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

Jason [No last name?], Captain of the Guardian, has dedicated his ship to protecting colonies at the edge of human space from pirates and bandits. He leads from the front lines, gets his crew the best equipment available, and ensures the Guardian has the firepower of a warship. But when humanity is attacked by the first alien species they encounter, the Careons, Jason finds himself completely outmatched. [It's the Enterprise vs. the Borg, but this time the Borg have decided they don't want to assimilate us.]

After a brash stunt that destroyed a Careon ship, Jason attracts the attention of the Entente, an alliance of alien races that has been at war with the Careons for two decades. Their ships are powerful, and their technology more advanced than anything humanity has ever seen. But the members of the alliance have no history of warfare, and they’re losing. [If their lack of tactical knowledge is such a big disadvantage, how have they lasted two decades?] [Possibly because it takes two decades at near-light speed just to get to the battlefield.]

What the Entente lacks, the humans have in abundance. Centuries of fighting each other have taught them the strategies and tactics needed to change the outcome of this war. [It took humans about 20 centuries to learn that dressing your armies in brightly colored uniforms, lining them up in a phalanx, and marching them toward people with spears or arrows or guns wasn't the best strategy. Yet we who have just encountered our first alien species have already figured out how to defeat their vastly superior firepower?] Unfortunately, since being attacked, the Entente has become xenophobic. They view humanity as another violent race that could be just as dangerous as the Careons. [It's not xenophobia if they're right.]

Jason and his crew must bridge the gap between humanity and this alliance, and use humanity’s terrible past to save them all from Careon dominance. [Step 1: Prove to the Entente that a vastly superior military can be defeated: show them the film 300.]

I am seeking representation for The Guardian, a 110,000 word science fiction novel.

Thank you for your time, and consideration.

Sincerely,


Notes

Sounds like a good story if it focuses on Jason. He disappears in the 3rd paragraph. If you stress that it's Jason's knowledge of military history, rather than humanity's, that can save us all, it might help.

Is it just Jason who takes on the job of leading the Entente to victory, or is it all of humanity? If the latter, our generals and diplomats would squeeze Jason, who's captain of one outclassed ship, out of the picture. If the former, hey, how much can one guy do to end a two-decade-long war?

Perhaps examples of what the Entente have been doing wrong would help us see how we inferior humans who have no experience battling alien races can come up with a way to defeat the seemingly invincible Careons.

Face-Lift 1168

Guess the Plot

The Night Guard

1. The Mayan priests make sure day happens, but who keeps night from going AWOL? When the Lords of Death kidnap night, its Hunahpu, the Night Guard, to the rescue. Can he bring back night before Central America is burned to a crisp?

2. Female orthodontic patients are disappearing after leaving the office of Dr. C. Edmond Kells. It's time to encase himself in acrylic and assume his old identity as the "Night Guard" to solve the case. Or suffer rampant malocclusion in prison.

3. When pop singer Krysty is found dead in her lavish bed, homicide detective Zack Martinez knows two things. One, the girl didn't strangle herself with her microphone, and two, she's not going to be hosting the VideoNet Music Awards on Saturday night. That only leaves hundreds of jealous singers and their management as suspects. Zack must enlist his daughter's playlist to solve this case.

4. Kevin, the night guard at a top secret facility, is shocked to discover an alien is being kept hostage. When the alien telepathically asks Kevin for help, will he be freeing an innocent being, or jeopardizing the future of the human race?

5. You wouldn't think a hospital would need extra guards on duty at night, but when it's a military hospital reanimating soldiers so they can be sent back to the trenches, you don't want anyone stumbling onto the operation. The way 15-year-old maid Daisy Blake does. Oops.

6. Somebody has been stealing the night, and gargoyle Freddy McKay is hired to guard it. He’s paid for work between sunset and sunrise, but most of those hours have been stolen. Can Freddy solve the case before he loses his home in foreclosure?



Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

The new maid at the London Military Hospital has three secrets that could get her sent to prison:

She's Irish, automatically suspected of [drinking on the job. Ba dum ching.] spying;

She speaks German, the language of the enemy, [That should get her a promotion from maid to spy or interpreter in the interrogation room. Not a prison sentence.]

And she stole the papers that identify her as Delinda Blake. She's really Delinda's sister, Daisy.  

[If she's Daisy, how can there be papers that identify her as Delinda? And if there somehow are papers identifying her as Delinda, and she wants to pass as Delinda, why not leave the papers where they were instead of stealing them? Now when they check the files to see if she's really Delinda, the papers identifying her as Delinda won't be there.]

1916 London promises good wages to young women, with so many men off fighting in France. But after Delinda drowns herself, Daisy finds opportunities are few for a 15-year-old schoolgirl on her own. Mopping up blood and washing bedpans earn her room and board. And, however disgusting, her work makes a difference: A clean, fresh ward is like heaven to wounded men who lived in the stinking filth of the trenches. [You'd think by the time these guys are transported from the trenches to London they wouldn't still be bleeding all over the floor.] Further, she enjoys the patients' teasing, especially the winks from handsome Captain Ferrar of the Night Guard.

But the Night Guard has its own secret, involving the hospital's power plant, where broken men are being restored for Britain's desperate army. A dying young POW reveals the truth to Daisy and gives up another secret as well: A traitor willing to kill is at work in the hospital.

Whom can Daisy tell without giving herself away -- [Telling someone there's a traitor in the hospital doesn't give away that she's Daisy.] or putting her life in danger?

Then Delinda comes back. From the dead. [Zombie, or reanimated? Either way, it's a little late to be telling us it's that kind of book.]

My 90,000-word YA novel THE NIGHT GUARD adds elements of "Frankenstein" [Ah. Reanimated. Should have guessed from the power plant mention.] to the story of a girl struggling to make a life for herself in a city at war.

I am a writer for a national World War I organization and a copy editor at a major metropolitan daily.

Thank you for your time and consideration.


Notes

I don't see anything in the first four paragraphs that is both needed and that can't be worked into the fifth paragraph:

1916 London promises good wages to young women, with so many men off fighting in France. But after her sister Delinda drowns herself, Daisy Blake finds opportunities are few for a 15-year-old schoolgirl on her own. Mopping up blood and washing bedpans at the London Military Hospital earn her room and board, and her work makes a difference: a clean, fresh ward is like heaven to wounded men who lived in the stinking filth of the trenches.

Note that I removed handsome Captain Ferrar, as he does nothing. (I assume there's no actual romance between a captain and a fifteen-year-old.)

Now we can get to Frankenstein in paragraph 2, just by changing the word "restored" to "reanimated." You'll have to tell us what the Night Guard is when you mention it, or just say that the hospital has a secret.

Probably it's better to focus the query on one main plot point, which I'm guessing would be what's being done to the soldiers, and let the traitor and the zombie sister subplots wait for the book.

Feedback Request

The author of the book featured in Face-Lift 1157 would like your opinion of the new version, posted below.

Dear Evil Editor,
Adriel has spent every day of her nineteen years in the slummiest neighborhood of America—County 29—named after the average lifespan of its inhabitants.  She knows her best chance of greeting her thirtieth birthday is to join the legendary Eternity Army.
Over three hundred years ago an enterprising doctor discovered the cure for aging; but not everyone can live forever. The elites of the world almost destroyed humanity fighting for the right to life, and eventually the Council of Thirteen won monopoly over both the cure, and the now ravaged America. Soldiers of the Eternity Army are gifted the cure for a period of fifty years of life—and Adriel is more than eager to take it.
At first, life as a soldier is everything Adriel has hoped for: meals are regular, her street-fighting skills are put to good use, and she even manages to thrive in a training environment that literally kills those who can’t keep up.  Soon she meets Dailen—the first man she’s known whom she can talk to without clasping a knife behind her back.
But when Dailen admits that he is actually a sleeper spy for the resistance, Adriel discovers the sacrificial relationship between the cure and the low life span in her home county. She knows she cannot go through with taking it.
Adriel vows to take down the council that has reigned far longer than nature intended, even If it means not making it to another birthday.
THE ETERNITY WARS is the first book of a trilogy and is completed at 75,000 words.

The Tweets of Hannah

Hannah Rogers, literary agent (link in sidebar), has given up tweeting, but has granted me permission to reproduce some of her contributions to Twitdom. As you may know, Hannah accepted submissions of the first sentence of authors' novels, then tweeted that sentence plus her two cents worth.



"Someone made a mistake." (A.M. Ronning) Is that your first sentence, or your prediction of what I'll say when I read it? 

Armageddon began with a cup of coffee. (D Jason Cooper) I had forgotten Starbucks prime directive: If Satan comes in, serve him decaf. 

It comes on the night of the full moon. (RWG) And lasts about 5 days, and if you want me to like like your novel, don't bring it to me then. 

It was a stately room. (Anon.) Specifically, it was shaped like Colorado. 

I stopped dead in my tracks the moment I saw him. (Deb) No one had mentioned to me that Evil Editor would be attending our slumber party. 

The day I learned my twin sister was a vampire, I was shocked. (JR) Then it hit me: finally, I had an excuse to put a stake thru her heart. 

“How many times have I told you--stay away from the corpses!” (CE) "Sorry, Mom. It's just that I'm hungry . . . and horny."

It only takes a few minutes to disable the brakes on a bike. (AM) The hard part is convincing Evil Editor to compete in the Tour de France. 

The big Dutch boy wanted to fight about the ship's name again. (Sean M.) We showed him the name, printed on the stern. That settled that. 

As Leisha disembarked, the hot desert wind hit her like an anvil. (Syl) She took a deep breath and blew it out like a category 5 hurricane. 

I could hear the fear in my breathing - jagged and sporadic. (Natbagel) Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I thought, & entered EE's office. 

“What brings you to Mobile?” (Luke) The only believable response to that question: "My GPS malfunctioned." 

The man bore down on me, leering with yellow teeth. (CP) And chomping with bloodshot eyes. 

The voice on the phone was professional and matter-of-fact. (Julie Weathers) "To make a call," it said, "please hang up and try again. If... 

She was a force of nature steaming through the mall. (Mark Mosher) Never get between me and Mrs. Fields. 

"Your drug induced coma is the anteroom to my reality." (Wendy M.) And your Huh?-inducing opening sentence is the foyer to my nightmare.

Kincaid rode behind the sheep. (Wes) I'm torn between wanting to know what you mean by "rode" . . . and NOT wanting to know. 

"Ah, Shiraz--did you administer the truth serum?" (ril) "Yes, Hannah, to myself, as you ordered. And may I say, I LOVE your hair like that."

In your minds, you are all special. (Pewari) That's because the publishing industry would grind to a halt without us . . . in our minds. 

"I love you," Andi said very clearly, looking right up into his brown eyes. (Scott D.) "I'm so glad I put up this ceiling mirror," he added. 

"Don't forget to send a report about the Crom Dubh to the national data base," I called. (Bernita) Swallow the bagel, please; then repeat. 

In this business, every once in a while, you meet a woman who's a class act. (D Jason Cooper) Thanks. 

“Mama, Luis ate the last empanada!” Carlos whined. (M.W. Bell) "The one with poison in it?" she replied. "I meant that one for you, Carlos." 

I didn't know that I was psychic. (ILS) Which, now that I think about it, should have been the first clue that I wasn't.

It's over. (Phoenix) For once I can say with certainty: you're starting in the wrong place.

"Shit!" (D Jason Cooper) I'm a traditionalist; I prefer you give the title and word count BEFORE the genre. 

She’d grown to expect it. (Kaylea) And yet it still shocked her when the 1st sentence of a manuscript had two pronouns with no antecedents. 

If days were trains, this one would have been lying at the bottom of a ravine. (K) If openings were logs, that one would be in my fireplace.

I let the gun rest on my limp dick. (E.S. Tesla) No need to tell us it's limp. If there's a gun anywhere near it, it's limp. 

"You're going to wear that page out, you know." (Marissa Doyle) Dialogue between two senators?

It’s amazing how you take oxygen for granted until you don’t have any. (RS) True, if you replace "amazing" with "perfectly understandable." 

One year was wasted and gone. (K.D. McEntire) Trunk novel or boyfriend? 

"You don’t want this, no more than I do." (Anon.) Well, at least we agree on something.

"What the hell was that?" (Rachel de Vienne) What the hell was that?

New Beginning 1017

Gwinn breathed a sigh of relief when the shop finally came into view. She’d run the entire way from her village, almost a quarter of a day’s journey. A quick glance at the sun told her she was ahead of schedule. Still, she couldn’t stay long. Her parents thought she was in the orchards and would expect her home for lunch. If she arrived late, they would ask questions.

She slowed to a light jog as she made her way down the hill, the faint path merging into the wide and well-worn road. The shop sat about twenty feet back from the road, leaning slightly to the left as if it were tired. It was actually more of a glorified shack attached to an even smaller shack meant to be a home, but it was the only shop Gwinn could reach by foot. As she approached, she noted two unfamiliar horses. Good. The last thing she wanted was to encounter anyone from her village. They could ruin the surprise. She opened the heavy door and walked inside.

Although she hadn’t been there in several years, it smelled just as she remembered – sweet, like the hard candies that glittered in glass jars along the wall, mixed with dried rosemary and sage. She paused in the doorway.

Two strangers sat at tables near the register, presumably waiting for the inscrutable shopkeeper to appear with their orders. Was that Gwinn's order on the counter? She peered into the bag. "Dammit!" The Mu shu pork had congealed into a solid mass! And the lo mein was cold. Who knew "ten minute" really meant ten minutes? Now her family would start asking hard questions, like Where's the duck sauce and spicy mustard? What was the point of surprising them with take-out if this was the result? She searched the bag. Ah-ha! Saved! At least they'd remembered the fortune cookies.


Opening: Alice.....Continuation: Kregger