Lynn Veevers's Blog, page 2
December 3, 2017
Carolyn M. Walker is having a Holiday Giveaway!
November 30, 2017
Pinnacle is available for preorder now & will hit bookstores 2/6/2018! See an exclusive excerpt!
With Pinnacle‘s release right around the corner I decided to post the blurb and Prologue here to give you a sneak peak of what’s to come in February! The sequel Eximus will be coming out shortly after in this upcoming summer and I am beyond excited about that! Without further ado …PINNACLE
Back Cover Blurb:
Identifying her parents was the hardest thing ever, until Kaya learned she was the killer’s next target. Moving had thrown the ancient predator off her trail temporarily but with magical abilities manifesting, Kaya’s scent grows stronger and the attempts on her life become constant. Narrowly surviving each encounter, Kaya is desperate to stop her potential assassin, but it’s hard to kill a creature that changes its appearance and disappears without a trace. Kaya finds the support she needs to succeed in her small group of friends and her boyfriend Kenneth. Like so many things, they’re more than what they seem and with the killer having unsettling similarities to Kenneth and his family…Kaya can’t help but wonder if there’s a connection.
Prologue:
She’d tried calling her father’s phone…no answer. She then tried her mother’s phone…no answer. Kaya’s parents had told her they’d be back by no later than nine that evening. It was ten. She cried when midnight rolled around, worried out of her mind. Two more hours passed and she cried more because the worry had turned into fear. They were never late. By the time two-thirty came, she started to expect the worst and called her father’s sister. Word traveled like wildfire through the tribe and every tracker they had drove to where they knew Kaya’s parents normally hunted. When someone knocked on the door at five-fifteen, she rushed to it, happy her parents had finally made it home.
“Miss Hunt? Miss Kaya Hunt?” the officer asked.
In that moment her whole world slowed, the officer’s words sounded like he was talking underwater, but she didn’t need to hear to know what he was saying. Officers never brought good news.
“Miss Hunt, can you hear me?” the officer asked with sympathetic eyes.
Kaya nodded her head indicating she’d heard him.
“We need you to come and identify the bodies. Can you do that? You are the next of kin.”
“Yes, just let me get my things,” Kaya answered.
The officer stood waiting at the door as Kaya roamed around the room, collecting her things on autopilot. The drive to town to identify her parents was much the same way. Kaya imagined walking into a metal room with two slabs covered with white sheets, so she was confused when she was led into a room with comfortable chairs, a coffee table, and a few boxes of tissues. A man with a folder walked in just moments later and sat opposite of Kaya.
“Hello Kaya, my name is Stephen Banks. I want to let you know I’m going to show you a few photographs to confirm that these folks are your parents. What you are about to see is disturbing, and I am so sorry that you have to go through this.”
He slid two photographs face down across the table to Kaya. Her hands trembled as she reached for the photos. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and flipped the two pictures over. It took a moment to mentally prepare and then she opened her eyes. Her insides ran cold as she stared at the pictures. She turned away, unable to look any longer.
“Kaya, are those your parents? Are they Dylan and Colleen Hunt?” Stephen asked gently.
She nodded yes and started crying.
“I am sorry, but I need you to actually say yes,” Stephen said softly.
“Yes, they are my parents,” Kaya said through sobs.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. Thank you for your help. Is there anyone we can call for you?” Stephen asked as he handed her a handful of tissues.
“My Aunt Diana. She lives in Oklahoma. She’s my mom’s twin sister,” she mumbled into the tissue.
Half an hour later, Kaya’s cell buzzed and when she answered it, she could hear Aunt Diana trying hard not to cry.
“Kaya, I am on my way to Seattle. I will be there with you in seven hours. Don’t you worry about a thing. I will take care of everything,” Diana said.
“They’re gone, Aunt Di, they are gone. How can they be gone? Mom and I fought yesterday about me attending the last day of school today. I was still mad when she and Dad left. I didn’t get a chance to make things right with her again. Did she die thinking I hated her?” Kaya cried into the phone.
“No, honey! She knew you loved her. I promise you she knew. I will be there soon. Everything is going to be OK. I’m going to bring you back to Oklahoma with me after the service. You are going to be OK.”
The free Preview is not available yet because the book doesn’t release until the 6th of February. 
November 29, 2017
The Fiction Query Simplified
The subject matter for this post is specifically geared toward those of you who write fiction, the genre and or sub-genres make no difference. This is not meant to explain a nonfiction query for the simple fact that I do not write non-fiction and do not feel myself to know enough about that type of querying to feel comfortable giving advice. I apologize for that.
Important Note: We as writers understand the necessity of feeling appreciated, so we need to take the time to remember there is NOTHING easy about an agent’s role in this remarkable industry. They get thousands of queries a year and most work very hard to not keep authors waiting. Take the time to be selective and make the opening specifically target the agents you think are the best fit for both you and your work. The only thing blindly blanket querying will get you is a waste of your and the agent’s time.
A solid query has three parts after the, “Dear (Your Chosen Agent’s Name)”. Always personalize your greeting, I can’t stress this enough. The first part is the introduction paragraph where you address the agent, editor, or publisher you are querying with why you are querying them, if you have a SPECIFIC reason (and if you do keep it short and sweet), and give the bare bone basics of your book. What I mean by bare bone basics is the title, word count, (rounded to the nearest thousand), the genres and or sub-genres, it’s specific points (male protagonist, multicultural, etcetera.), and REALISTIC comp novels. They will know if you are just throwing out famous titles based on your mini synopsis, which brings us to our next paragraph.
The second paragraph is a very short but accurate account of your story. When I say short I mean like back cover blurb on a novel in a book store short. That’s impossible you say…yeah I said the same thing. Here’s the skinny, most successful back cover blurbs give the reader just enough to get them hooked with as little reading as possible. The first line of your mini synopsis is your hook. It’s that line that makes the reader go Wow and makes them keep reading. After the hook your summary needs to be short, concise, and compelling. Present the problem/conflict, the obstacles or odds the protagonist has to overcome but do NOT give away the ending! Leave them hanging. The goal is to make them WANT to read your book. The perfect mini synopsis for a query should be no higher than 180 words from hook to hanger.
The third and final paragraph is likely to be the shortest as it is the author’s bio, unless that author has various literary accomplishments (honors, prizes, contest winner, etcetera). In your bio you only put what is RELEVANT to your career as an author and or the book you are querying. That’s it! Can you share a very short explanation of why you wrote the book you are querying? Yes but I strongly suggest limiting it to one or two sentences. Always close by thanking said agent for their time and consideration, remember this is a business correspondence and should be treated with that kind of professionalism. Close with an acceptable closing such as, “Sincerely”, or something of the like, and you name. Under that feel free to leave your email and your twitter handle or whatever other social media medium you use. Do not ever leave a link unless the submission guidelines specifically say so!
From start to finish you query should never be more than one page in Times New Roman 12pt (or some other equally professional font). If you understand word count better it would be in your best interest for the entirety of you query to be 500 words or less Now that we have the elements for a solid query letter outlined; I would like to share one of my very own query letters that has gotten me 3 full requests and 5 partials from agents, as well as 2 offers from publishers to date.
Dear,
Chloe Shipton & The Quill of Le Fay is a 63K, contemporary, YA Fantasy that features a unique magic system, relatable multi-racial female protagonist, complex layered plot, and strong historical ties. This novel will appeal to the readership of HEX HALL by Rachel Hawkins and CHAMBER of SECRETS. This is book one in a series.
The Magical Parliament guards a secret that’s killing students at a school of sorcery, and the only one who can expose the truth is a disembodied student who is dying. When fifteen year old Chloe Shipton mysteriously goes missing the rumors at Grammaire Hall point to murder, but limbo is not the same as being dead. As Chloe uncovers clues to her body’s whereabouts a secret starts to unravel revealing the presence of rogue sorcerers hidden within the school who are seeking to bring back the lost Third Edict. Destroyed long ago for unspeakably horrific crimes against humanity, the return of the Third Edict would spell disaster for both magical and magic-less factions. To prevent her own likely demise and the fulfillment of the Third Edict’s prophesied return, Chloe must find a way to reunite body and soul without giving the rogue sorcerers the one thing they need to succeed…her sorceress’s weapon.
My first novel, “Pinnacle” will be released straight to print on 2/6/2018 with (Clean Reads); however it is already available for pre-order on Amazon. Its sequel, “Eximius” will be out June of 2018. I wrote The Quill of Le Fay for my daughter who was dying to read a story about a sorceress that looks and acts like her. Since none existed I wrote one for her. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Email: _____________
Phone: _____________
Twitter: @LynnVeevers
All the best,
Lynn Veevers
 
  
  November 28, 2017
An excerpt of Pinnacle
With Pinnacle‘s release right around the corner I decided to post the blurb and Prologue here to give you a sneak peak of what’s to come in February! The sequel Eximus will be coming out shortly after in this upcoming summer and I am beyond excited about that! Without further ado …PINNACLE
Back Cover Blurb:
Identifying her parents was the hardest thing ever, until Kaya learned she was the killer’s next target. Moving had thrown the ancient predator off her trail temporarily but with magical abilities manifesting, Kaya’s scent grows stronger and the attempts on her life become constant. Narrowly surviving each encounter, Kaya is desperate to stop her potential assassin, but it’s hard to kill a creature that changes its appearance and disappears without a trace. Kaya finds the support she needs to succeed in her small group of friends and her boyfriend Kenneth. Like so many things, they’re more than what they seem and with the killer having unsettling similarities to Kenneth and his family…Kaya can’t help but wonder if there’s a connection.
Prologue:
She’d tried calling her father’s phone…no answer. She then tried her mother’s phone…no answer. Kaya’s parents had told her they’d be back by no later than nine that evening. It was ten. She cried when midnight rolled around, worried out of her mind. Two more hours passed and she cried more because the worry had turned into fear. They were never late. By the time two-thirty came, she started to expect the worst and called her father’s sister. Word traveled like wildfire through the tribe and every tracker they had drove to where they knew Kaya’s parents normally hunted. When someone knocked on the door at five-fifteen, she rushed to it, happy her parents had finally made it home.
“Miss Hunt? Miss Kaya Hunt?” the officer asked.
In that moment her whole world slowed, the officer’s words sounded like he was talking underwater, but she didn’t need to hear to know what he was saying. Officers never brought good news.
“Miss Hunt, can you hear me?” the officer asked with sympathetic eyes.
Kaya nodded her head indicating she’d heard him.
“We need you to come and identify the bodies. Can you do that? You are the next of kin.”
“Yes, just let me get my things,” Kaya answered.
The officer stood waiting at the door as Kaya roamed around the room, collecting her things on autopilot. The drive to town to identify her parents was much the same way. Kaya imagined walking into a metal room with two slabs covered with white sheets, so she was confused when she was led into a room with comfortable chairs, a coffee table, and a few boxes of tissues. A man with a folder walked in just moments later and sat opposite of Kaya.
“Hello Kaya, my name is Stephen Banks. I want to let you know I’m going to show you a few photographs to confirm that these folks are your parents. What you are about to see is disturbing, and I am so sorry that you have to go through this.”
He slid two photographs face down across the table to Kaya. Her hands trembled as she reached for the photos. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and flipped the two pictures over. It took a moment to mentally prepare and then she opened her eyes. Her insides ran cold as she stared at the pictures. She turned away, unable to look any longer.
“Kaya, are those your parents? Are they Dylan and Colleen Hunt?” Stephen asked gently.
She nodded yes and started crying.
“I am sorry, but I need you to actually say yes,” Stephen said softly.
“Yes, they are my parents,” Kaya said through sobs.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. Thank you for your help. Is there anyone we can call for you?” Stephen asked as he handed her a handful of tissues.
“My Aunt Diana. She lives in Oklahoma. She’s my mom’s twin sister,” she mumbled into the tissue.
Half an hour later, Kaya’s cell buzzed and when she answered it, she could hear Aunt Diana trying hard not to cry.
“Kaya, I am on my way to Seattle. I will be there with you in seven hours. Don’t you worry about a thing. I will take care of everything,” Diana said.
“They’re gone, Aunt Di, they are gone. How can they be gone? Mom and I fought yesterday about me attending the last day of school today. I was still mad when she and Dad left. I didn’t get a chance to make things right with her again. Did she die thinking I hated her?” Kaya cried into the phone.
“No, honey! She knew you loved her. I promise you she knew. I will be there soon. Everything is going to be OK. I’m going to bring you back to Oklahoma with me after the service. You are going to be OK.”
The free Preview is not available yet because the book doesn’t release until the 6th of February. 
July 11, 2017
My Successful Query Letter
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Hi everyone and welcome back. Today I am sharing the query template that I drafted and used when querying my YA Fantasy/Romance Novel, Pinnacle. This is the first installment in a series of six and will be available for sale in the beginning of 2018! That is also when I will also be doing in-store signings as well, super excited about that. This query landed me 2 offers for publication, 3 full requests and 1 referral. Of course I would personalize the very beginning of the query to whom ever I was querying because that is very important. We as authors like to feel acknowledged and directly addressed and Agents and Editors are no different. My advice personalize you’re query. Ok so the meat of my query letter is below.
Good Day,
PINNACLE has a culturally diverse cast of characters that integrates accurate folklore with an original imagined twist. Featuring strong, independent voices, deep realistic relationship dynamics, and a moderate degree of unfortunate tragedy; PINNACLE is a YA Contemporary Fantasy, set in modern day earth. Complete, polished, and ready for review at 91,000 words, PINNACLE is the first in a 6 book series.
Vengeance spurs Kaya to find her parent’s murderer before it finds her but it’s hard to kill a creature that can change its appearance and blend into a crowd; what’s worse is that the killer’s natural form has a terrifying similarity to the man Kaya loves.
Kaya unexpectedly finds herself as a target of the ancient predator that murdered her parents to steal their magical souls. To preserve her life and ensure her safety, she’s whisked away from her home in Washington State and relocated in the remote Midwestern town of Tangent. In a time when abilities are manifesting, Kaya feels lost and out of touch with the new things her body can do. With a deceiving notion that she is finally safe, Kaya tries to regain some semblance of her old life only to find that she has been tracked to her new home. Her life takes a twist when she starts getting attacked at every turn and narrowly survives each encounter. Kaya feels the absolute need to avenge her parent’s deaths and put an end to her own likely demise. Even so, she finds it exceedingly hard to kill a creature that can change its appearance and disappear without a trace. Kaya receives the support and edge she needs to potentially defeat her foe in her small group of extraordinary friends. Like so many things in this town, they are much more than what they seem. All that stands between Kaya and imminent death are her friends and a mysterious senior named Kenneth. Limits will be pushed to the breaking point and abilities are put to the ultimate test.
My major is a Bachelors of Business with a specific to Technical Writing. I hail from The Puget Sound area of Washington State and currently reside in Oklahoma. I am a mother, wife, avid reader, and a passionately prolific writer. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Email: ______________
Phone: ______________
Twitter: @LynnVeevers
Respectfully, Lynn Veevers
 
  
  July 5, 2017
Sovereign Sentinel
[image error]Chapter One
Rory sat on her bed and watched as her mother folded clothes then stuffed them into boxes labeled, “Rory’s Clothes”. Her mother’s expression was a pallet of rioting emotions, her movements precise and speedy as she folded article after article of clothing. Like Rory, she was trying her best not to cry. After all it wasn’t every day that your only chick left the nest.
“Mom it’s going to be fine…I’m going to be fine. It’s not like I am moving too far, I’ll only be a couple hours away.” Rory said trying to placate her mother’s harried feelings.
For all the forced bravado that Rory had infused her voice with, her mother wasn’t fooled for a second. She knew Rory was just as turbulent in her feelings as she was. Her headstrong daughter was just hiding it better, but then that was typical of Rory. She heaved a huge sigh, glanced up from what she was doing, and reluctantly accepted that her precious princess wasn’t a little girl anymore.
“I know you will do just fine on your own honey. It’s just I hadn’t expected this to happen so soon is all. You are only seventeen after all.” Her mother said sadly.
Rory swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood to give her mother a reassuring hug. As her mother returned the embrace Rory felt the transition of leaving home and being on her own was the hardest and scariest thing she’d ever have to do.
That reluctant goodbye had been just weeks before she found herself where she was now; her back plastered against a cold brick building at the end of a dark city alley. She was terrified and desperately tried to calm her racing heart as she took in the scene unfolding before her. She’d known him as far back as she could remember. Never in a million years would she have guessed that Nathaniel had a second life hidden away from the reality that was their day to day routine. Nathaniel was privy to all her dreams and desires, but above all else he had full knowledge of her secrets. Rory was no average seventeen year old girl. Oh no! She was able to bend light to her will and guide the air around her. If she got the notion to blow a bully four blocks down the street… she could.
Rory just couldn’t seem to summon the control needed to do either right at that minute. No matter how hard she tried, her body just wouldn’t respond. She was, for the first time in her life, petrified with fear. Up until that moment, as she stood in garbage heaped high against the alley dumpster, she’d thought she’d been aware of everything that was Nathaniel. She and he had been best friends since before she’d been in grade school. But here they were trapped with seemingly no escape.
The snarling of the cloaked figures that had cornered them was unnatural and completely otherworldly. Nathaniel brandished a long, saber that seemed to shine with golden flecks in the pearly cast of moonlight. The weapon pulsated with a power that could be felt but not seen. When Nathaniel sliced the air between him and the cloaked figures, the attackers retreated the slightest bit. Rory realized they feared this weapon Nathaniel had pulled out of thin air. He had placed himself between her and the threat they now faced.
“Just give us the girl and you can leave with your life still intact.” One of the cloaked figures said.
Nathaniel lunged toward the one that had spoken and the cloaked figure dodged him with a grace that was so eloquent, it was intimidating and completely terrifying. That intimidation reflected clearly in Nathaniel’s eyes, but still he stood his ground.
“Or you can just do this the hard way.” The cloaked figure chided.
Rory watched, frozen in fear, as the cloaked figure and Nathaniel circled each other in a dance that hummed with lethality.
“Cease and return to the reliquary grounds. Leave me to deal with this unworthy excuse for a Sovereign Sentential.” The cloaked ringleader ordered of his underlings.
The other three cloaked figures dissipated into a charcoaled mist that blew down the length of the alleyway and disappeared at its mouth. The remaining cloaked figure slowly pulled back the hood of his cloak. His features were human but set in a face that was of odd texture and gray in complexion. His eyes glowed with a violet intensity above a sharp elongated nose and lips set in a thin line of unwavering determination. He seemed regally graceful and emanated malicious intent.
The two men regarded each other, both gaging and awaiting the precise moment of opportunity. When the man lunged Nathaniel was ready to receive. The two grappled along the moisture slicked pavement never once losing their footing. Every movement, every sound, every facet of color moved in slow motion as Rory watched her best friend fighting for their lives. The two rebounded off the brick walls and met one another’s assault in midair. Nathaniel’s adversary had managed to grab hold of him by the throat in the exchange of blows. Nathaniel was then slammed to the ground with a crippling force. He struggled against his assailant unable to budge the man’s grip and was quickly losing his ability to breath.
As he looked into the purple orbs that were his killer’s eyes he saw the slightest of movements over the man’s shoulder. Rory had, on silent feet, come up behind him. Nathaniel saw the green glint of light bouncing off the glass beer bottle just a millisecond before she brought it crashing down upon his attacker’s head. The man blinked in sudden confusion and then his features took on a hardened expression as he looked over his should at Rory. It was as if the blow hadn’t fazed him in the least.
“Just give me a second my dear, I need to finish what I started here and I will be right with you.” He said in a chillingly calm voice.
The shift in weight that it had taken to advert his attention was just enough for Nathaniel to reach the dagger sheathed at his side and lodge it deep into the side of the man. His attention snapped back to Nathaniel in shocked disbelief. The look of death was etched to his face like a name chiseled to a tombstone. Nathaniel threw the man off of him and before the body could make contact to the ground it exploded into the same fine charcoaled mist Rory had seen when the other three had departed. Only this time it settled to the ground like snow flutters from the sky. The dagger clabbered to the pavement where the body would have landed. Nathaniel retrieved it, sheathed it, and got to his feet.
Rory harbored questions unspoken in her eyes. Nathaniel sighed knowing he could not get around explaining what had just happened. Reaching down he picked up his saber and it disappeared with a flash of light into his hand. Rory stood there and gawked at Nathaniel like he’d grown a tail. She was positively speechless, Nathaniel could see that.
“Rory I didn’t want you to find out like this. It was supposed to be after your heritage and purpose were revealed.”
He took a deep steadying breath. He was pretty sure that the next bit of what he had to say was going to make her wig the hell out!
“Rory you’re royalty, and not just any royalty, but pivotally, important royalty. Your parents sent you here to keep you safe from the Survarian rebels. I’d love to get more into detail but we aren’t safe here.”
He grabbed her by the arm and steered her down the ally and out onto the sidewalk of the semi busy street. Rory was practically running just to keep up with his long legged stride. A thousand questions were ricocheting through her mind as they clipped down the sidewalk going to… god knows where. She broke free of his hold and had him spinning around to look at her like she’d lost her mind.
“What do you mean royalty, Nathaniel? I don’t even remember my parents. I was orphaned when I was eight months old. My parent’s plane disappeared over the South Pacific? I was adopted when I was like a year old… remember!”
He realized he had gone about the situation all wrong. Rory was not one to sit idle and wait patiently for answers. She would demand to know the entirety of the story right now, regardless of the danger that could be lurking close by. He spotted a coffee shop across the four lanes of traffic and with her hand in his, all but pulled her across the street. He swung opened the door ushered her through and then steered her to the back most booth.
After they were seated Nathaniel pulled his necklace out of his shirt and held the egg shaped pendant in his hand. The pendant hung length wise at the end of a gold box chain. The two halves of the pendant were separated by a thin layer of gold, making it clear that it had two halves. After he surveyed the area and was content no one was watching, he turned the separate haves of the pearl pendant in opposing directions. Rory felt a static like sensation shimmer over her skin. He put the pendant back inside his shirt and looked at Rory with resignation.
“It’s an illusionary device. I put up the illusion of us deeply immersed in a study session. You know because that is precisely the one thing no one would ever interrupt, Teenagers studying!”
He chuckled to himself finding his words humorous, but he was alone in the lighthearted gesture. Rory stared him down with an icy look of contempt. One glance at her less than amused expression had him sobering and taking a demeanor of seriousness once more.
“The fact that Survarian rebels actively sought you out and were successful in finding you means that you have come of maturity. This world has two specific coinciding realities. The Physical science driven realm which is what we see as modern day earth. Then there are the legends and myths this world is so fond of but completely unaware that all the, “Imaginings” are not just tall tales from past ages and forgotten times. They are also reality within this world.”
Rory was quite sure that Nathaniel had knocked a few screws loose back in that alley. Then she saw everything again in vivid detail. The shadowed figures, the swirling dark mists, and the purple glowing eyes, that were truly more of a violet than purple. She felt the truth of his words hit her like a bat striking a ball. Nathaniel waited patiently as Rory digested what little he’d said. He’d known Rory her entire life. He’d been three when she’d been born. His father had been her mother’s Sovereign Sentinel, and he had been destined to be Rory’s Sentinel from the day of her birth. It was his duty to keep her safe and out of the hands of the Survarian rebels. He’d known this all along. With her eighteenth birthday only three weeks away, she had one week remaining on this plane before her return to the plane of her origin would be imminent. He had planned to tell her about all of this then.
“So what are you saying that witches and wizards, vampires and werewolves, unicorns and griffins are real? I know that I can bend light and manipulate air, but we already came to the conclusion that I am just able to access more of my brain function than your average human. Or at least that is what I believed until I saw you produce a damn saber out of your hand. What about your lightning fast reflexes and unprecedented fighting skills Nathaniel? Let me guess that is a result of you having higher access to the deeper recesses of your brain, right?!”
It was clear that he had better give her all the answers and fast because Rory had the slightest tendency to be hotheaded and would leave in a split second if he did not deliver a solid explanation in a timely manner. Even though Rory had been deprived of a royal upbringing, she still had an infuriating tendency to possess the high and mighty attitude. Seeing he had no other option, Nathaniel leaned in and relayed the truth as fast as humanly possible.
“Not so far in the past all humans walked the same path of evolution. More than 9,000 years or so ago there was a fork in the evolutionary progression. Two realities had peacefully coexisted until then. There were the science and logical theory minded humans and the humans who were more spiritually minded and able to draw from energies around them. Up until then the two aspects of the human mind had worked together in equal measure. As time wore on, dominance in one aspect or the other started to become evident in more and more individuals. The respective groups started to gravitate toward those who were likeminded. Eventually there were enough distinguishing differences between the two groups that conflict was unavoidable. Caught in the cross fire were those that still wielded both aspects equally. They carried the brilliance of the technical mind, harbored within the Logically Scientific and the mystical properties found in the Spiritually Adept.
The Spiritually Adept were able to call upon the aid of their mystical animal brethren and creatures. The brilliant minds within the Logically Scientific had relied on their superior comprehension of the more physical elements to come up with a means to counter the mystical attacks and eventually gain an effective offensive strategy. The world was in utter chaos. The different branches of humanity had lost sight of what had bound them together in the first place, not their differences but their similarities. The few that retained both aspects of humanity banded together and were able to divide our world into two parallel planes; the plane of Magical Relevance and the plane of Scientific Relevance. The two branches of evolution were secured and most were happy with the arrangement. Over time knowledge of the opposing planes fell to the stuff of legends and myths. This plane is driven by the evolution of technology while the plane of Magical Relevance is ruled by the evolution of magic.”
“So let me get this straight. This is the plane of technology and the Plane of Magical Relevance is the plane of all things magical? Nathaniel what the hell does that have to do with these Survarian Rebel people that attacked us, and with me being royalty?! I mean seriously have you seen me lately? You are going to be hard pressed to convince me that I am royalty!”
Nathaniel reached across the table and took Rory’s hands. She cast her brown eyes down to their inner twined fingers and brought her gaze back to his face. He had been her lifelong companion, had defended her honor on many occasions and had absolutely never approved of any guy who had ever shown interest. He had guided her in her times of uncertainty and now as she looked into the endless depths of his jade green eyes, she finally saw him for what he truly was, her devoted and loyal guardian.
“Rory you have to understand that for every force that champions peace, order, and harmony there is an opposing force that wants the exact opposite. Your family is the bridge between the magical and the technological, because you are both. You are almost eighteen and near maturity. Nine days after your birthday it will be the winter solstice and also a full moon, something that does not happen often. Your powers of mind and spirit will become fully evident during the lunar festival. The catch is you have to be on the throne of rites to see the metamorphosis through. You are the next in line for the crown. The Survarian Rebels will not want this to happen because it will ensure that your family remains as the single balancing force between the planes. There are those on this plane that are good as well as those that are not. In your home plane there are those that walk in the light and those that dwell in the dark. The Survarian mission is to control both planes. Your family keeps them in line. But if you are not on the throne of rites at the appropriate time then an heir will be undetermined and as soon as your parents die the Survarian power will grow strong enough to seize control. Trust me when I say, that’s not good for anyone.”
June 29, 2017
The Art of Premonition
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Mazzie Stonewall was floating along, letting the water take her where it may. The pond was cooler than most would like it, but she preferred it that way. She detested being hot and as irony would have it; mid-June seemed to be the very definition of heat. Summer break was well underway in her small Midwest town and she found herself with little to do. Mazzie didn’t understand why all the excitement over summer vacation was such a big deal. It wasn’t like her family ever went anywhere. Her parents were always too busy serving the people of the community to do anything as carefree as a family getaway. They had always been champions to the cause of greater good. Because of that fact everyone in town had known them even before they’d become Mr. and Mrs. Stonewall. Mazzie’s parents were the perfect love story. Theirs’ was a tale everyone in Buffalo Springs knew. It was practically legend.
Marshall Stonewall was the town’s newest firefighter and Emily Passat worked at the hospital as a nurse. Marshall had been admitted with head trauma and third degree burns across a good portion of his lower body. The night had been cold and the road slick with icy moisture. His pick-up truck had caught fire after a semi with a full load had lost control and plowed into it. He’d been trapped in the cab unconscious and bleeding out as the flames ate his clothes and started in on his skin. The doctors had said he was lucky to have lived through the ordeal. He’d lain in the hospital for almost two days before coming to. The first thing he saw was the smiling yet concerned face of a young raven haired beauty. Emily had been his nurse during the day shift and his only visitor outside of his fellow firefighters. In the almost two weeks he’d been a patient she’d struggled to keep her demeanor as professional as possible. That was no easy task when her patient kept phoning in bouquets of flowers for her every other day. Upon being released from the hospital Marshall had refused to leave until Emily agreed to have dinner with him. Everything that happened after that dinner date was as good as happily ever after. That had been twenty- five years, five kids, and many promotions ago. Marshall became the Fire Chief and Emily had taken over the maternity ward as the charge nurse. Mazzie, being the youngest, had four older brothers who were as much her protectors as they were her tormentors.
She floated on her back in a pond that was forever cool thanks to the underground spring that fed it. The setting sun was infusing shades of yellow, orange, and pink into the clouds that stretched across the southern Oklahoma sky. She liked this spot because it was a quiet, peaceful place to get away, both literally and mentally. The crickets were starting their evening song but it was interrupted by the sound of a quad trekking through the long grass that surrounded Mazzie’s secret sanctuary.
“Hey Mazzie!” called her oldest brother Matthew, “You in there somewhere?”
She grunted and turned face down in the water, allowing herself to sink. Matthew’s calls still came but they were muffled and distant from under the water’s surface. Mazzie just needed a few more seconds alone before she returned back to reality. She let those solitary moments consume her and then powered her way to the surface and swam to shore. Slipping into her waiting flip flops, she passed through the tall cattails at the pond’s edge and made her way through a tree peppered field of wild grass. Matthew sat patiently on his quad as she approached him at a relaxed amble.
“You sure do like to take your sweet time about everything, don’t ya sis?” Matthew said with a loving chuckle.
“It’s a preference Matt; I’m not in any hurry so why act like I am? The world turns on the preferences and opinions of individuals, it’s what makes mankind so fascinating. Laws don’t govern life, preferences, and beliefs do. It is my opinion that I believe in the preference of taking my time. That way I don’t miss anything.” Mazzie said with a mischievous smirk.
“My baby sister the philosopher.” Matthew said and shook his head with a smile. “I’ve missed you!”
“It’s not philosophy Matt! It’s the plain and simple truth.” She insisted.
“Whatever you say Mazzie. If you ask me, life is ran and dictated by those who have power and those who have power usually have money. Take my word for it, the world is a screwed up place! More screwed up than you can imagine, that I can promise you. Being in the military I have seen just how messed up some people truly are. I hope you are never exposed to that kind of insanity.” Matthew said with a touch of sorrow in his voice.
Mazzie knew that Matthew had seen more than his fair share of horrific things since he’d joined the military. She was relieved to learn he had recently landed a billet that would keep him state side at least for a little while.
“How long are you home for?” Mazzie asked as she climbed on the quad behind him.
“I only got two weeks of leave then I gotta head back to San Diego. The new recruits aren’t gonna train themselves, gotta turn those boys into Marines!” He said with pride.
Mazzie rolled her eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t go into detail about the recruit training. To her mind it seemed a little excessive. She assumed that some people just enjoyed the rigorous and physically taxing life that they chose to lead, it just wasn’t for her. She was all about going with the flow. Her flow was going to land her on the walls of many art galleries one day. Right after she got her BA. Unlike so many of her fellow seniors to be, she actually had a plan and it didn’t involve staying in a little town. Matthew turned the quad around and headed toward the country road that would lead them home. The house was a good mile down the way from the pond and her parents owned everything in between. Mazzie didn’t see the point in trying to talk over the engine noise so she laid her head on her brother’s back and listened to his heartbeat instead. She never let herself take his being around for granted, but she couldn’t understand why he willingly took on such a potentially dangerous livelihood. She knew it wasn’t right but Matthew was her favorite brother. She didn’t get to see him but maybe twice a year. It wasn’t that Mason, Marcus, or Marlin weren’t good brothers. They were. Matthew just had a special bond with Mazzie that her other brothers didn’t. Matthew slid into the gravel drive that led to the house, parked the quad, and cut the engine off. He hopped off the quad and offered her a hand as he dipped into a dramatic bow.
“My Lady if you’d be so kind as to let me assist you down from your chariot.” He said in his best gentleman’s voice.
Mazzie giggled, accepted his hand, and stepped down from the quad with regal grace.
“Why thank you kind sir!” she said in a fancy voice of her own and curtsied the best she could in damp cutoffs and a pink T-shirt.
“Don’t mention it my lady, the pleasure is all mine.” He said as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and they walked up the front steps of the house.
“You know, I can’t wait for senior year to be over so I can move to California and be closer to you. College is going to be so fun!” she said with excitement evident in every word.
“Woah slow down princess! Your senior year hasn’t even started yet little girl! You got plenty of time.” He said with a wink.
“Matt you’re only six years older than me. Please give the little girl thing a rest! I’m almost eighteen and that’s hardly little.” Mazzie said.
“Well you’re still the cutest thing ever.” He countered.
“Yeah…do me a favor Matt don’t ever say that again, it’s just weird.” She said casting him a withering look.
He laughed at her discontent as he opened the screen door for her. They stepped into the two story ranch house and the intermingled scents of fresh baked garlic bread and spaghetti sauce wrapped around them like a warm blanket.
“Smell that Mazzie? THAT is the best homecoming there ever was, the scent of your mother’s cooking set in the familiar surroundings of the house you call your childhood home.” Matthew said raising his nose to the air.
They followed the mouthwatering smell into the dining room and saw there was a fresh green garden salad and melon bowl on the table as well. Mazzie was the only one among her siblings still living at home, but the boys came back every holiday and also when Matthew was home on leave. Mrs. Stonewall was making her way to the table with a smile for her oldest and youngest children. She was holding the last two glasses of sweet tea to be set on the table.
“You two go wash your hands for dinner.” She said pointing to the kitchen sink.
Mazzie had lived in the house her whole life and couldn’t imagine what calling another place home would be like. It was scary yet exciting all at the same time. She knew she’d miss the vaulted ceilings along with the wood and tiled surfaces that made the house the epitome of a country home. It was a far cry from the city life Mazzie yearned for. Her future didn’t include country roads or one stop gas, bait, and beer shops. At least it wouldn’t if she could just get through senior year without losing her mind. Between school, family, volunteering at the library, soccer, and working at the skating rink she might not make it through with her sanity still intact.
“DINNER!” Mrs. Stonewall shouted towards the basement family room.
It sounded like a herd of cattle was stampeding up the stairs as Mazzie’s father and brothers responded to her mother’s call. If there was one thing in the world that would get the Stonewall men moving, it was the promise of Mrs. Stonewall’s food. Mazzie took her seat with Matt on her right, her mother on her left, and then watched as the remaining five seats were filled in record time. She looked around the table at all the faces she loved until her gaze came to rest on a pair of moss green eyes she’d never seen before. The man they belonged to regarded her with a curiosity that mirrored her own. When he offered her a friendly smile she didn’t return the gesture. Instead she kept her expression blank and unreadable.
“Who are you?” she asked the young man pointedly.
“Mazzie!” Her mother said horrified, “Where are your manners?! That is not the way we treat a guest!”
Mazzie flinched at the sharpness of her mother’s tone and stared at her plate as she apologized.
“I’m sorry mama.” Mazzie said.
She looked at the young man that was sitting across from her, his smile still in place. He didn’t say a word just sat there like he was waiting for something. It occurred to Mazzie that he might want an apology.
“Well how does it feel to want?” she thought to herself.
She couldn’t put her finger on the why of it but something about this young man had rubbed her wrong right off the bat. He had that self-absorbed and thinks he’s, “god’s gift to women” look about him. She knew she shouldn’t judge a stranger by looks alone, but the smugness that creeped into the smile on his face had her doing just that…judging him. An awkward silence settled over the table and when she looked in Mrs. Stonewall’s direction, the look on her mother’s face clearly said, “Apologized to him not me!”
“I’m sorry for being rude.” She said looking him in the eye.
If she wasn’t mistaken his smile deepened and he got the slightest glint of cocky in his eye. In that moment her mind casted its verdict and it was a solid 10 on how much she did NOT like him. She was all too familiar with guys like this one, all sculpted perfection and more shallow than a wading pool. She was fairly certain that even that might be too deep for the likes of him. She wondered which one of her older brother’s he’d followed home. He just didn’t seem to fit for some reason. There was something different about him. Then he opened his mouth and there was no question of who had brought him to their home. She looked at Matthew trying very hard to contain her smirk and laughter over the young man’s northern accent.
“It’s alright Mrs. Stonewall it’s not every day that you see a stranger sitting opposite you at your family dinner table. I can understand her curiosity, but to answer your question, the name is Donovan Bishop, but your brother here calls me Bishop.” Donovan said.
“Well it is nice to meet you Donovan, I’m…” Mazzie started to say.
“ Mazzie…I know. Your brother here talks about his baby sister all the time. You are the apple of this guy’s eye, his pride and joy.” Donovan said gesturing toward Matthew.
Matthew perked up, looked at his sister and said, “Well who wouldn’t be, I’m telling you man, she is going to go places with her art!” Matthew said as he threw his left arm around her shoulders.
“Ok enough with the small talk. I’m starved! Now if y’all don’t mind, I say on with the prayer and let’s dig in!” Mr. Stonewall said.
Mr. Stonewall said the Lord’s Prayer to bless the food and the game of musical dishes began. Mazzie watched as the food traveled counter clockwise around the table. She studied their guest and everything about him, mannerisms, tone, and the way he sat there like he’d known her family all his life. She realized that Donovan was comfortable with exactly who he was and if she were a betting woman? Well she’d bet that it took a lot to get under his skin. Mazzie had gone from merely observing to full out staring. Donovan looked up from the meatball he was cutting and without missing a stroke of the knife, he held her gaze. She flushed bright pink, snatched up the bowl of spaghetti noodles, and piled a heap on her plate before passing the bowl on to her brother. She did the same with the salad and then asked for the ranch.
“Here you go.” Donovan said and passed it across.
“Thanks” Mazzie told him with a thin smile.
She doused her salad and for the rest of the meal everyone was too busy eating to talk. After finishing her plate Mazzie took it to the sink.
“Don’t forget it’s your turn to do the dishes Mazzie.” Her mother called to her.
She sighed under her breath and when her back was facing her mother she rolled her eyes. She knew better than to do something like that where her mother could see it. That would be stupid bordering suicidal and Mazzie had never been suicidal in her life…she wasn’t about to start now. Besides doing dishes would give her the opportunity to sneak out the back door rather than socialize with their, “House Guest” when she finished the chore.
“I’ll help her Mrs. Stonewall.” Donovan announced.
“That isn’t necessary dear! You’re a guest, no dishes for you hun!” Mazzie’s mother told him.
“Mom’s right, I can handle this!” Mazzie said earnestly.
“Oh but I insist, it’s the least I can do!” Donovan said and took the dish cloth from Mazzie’s hand.
He strolled to the sink like he’d done the dishes there a hundred times before and got straight to work with the suds in the sink. Mazzie threw daggered glares at his back and when he turned around and smiled the tips of her ears turned red.
“I said I’d help so come on over and grab a drying towel, I’ll wash if you dry.” he said.
She snatched the dish towel off the oven door and went to stand next to him at the sink. She was trying very hard to keep her unexplainable rage in check. Counting backward from 10 in her head, she wondered what it was about him that got her so fired up, she really had no clue. Once she felt it was safe to open her mouth again she offered their guest a saying that would put him at ease but was actually a negative in the most sarcastic of ways there in the Midwest and south.
“Awe well bless your heart.” She announced with a brilliant smile and then got down to drying and shelving the dishes he’d washed.
 
  
  June 16, 2017
Deadly Vengeance
I know it’s been a while since I posted but I am back with another short story for y’all. It is not my typical Ya but an adult short story. Let me know what you think!
  
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Deadly Vengeance
Hard working, dedicated, relentless, and prolific; these were the traits she felt described her work ethic most accurately. Compassionate, empathetic, optimistic, and loyal to a fault; once again descriptions of her only more about her type of soul rather than her work habits. Over all she felt she was a good person. She started her slow walk through the dry heat that was her house. The flickering, yellows, reds, and oranges danced around her as she walked from room to room. She took in the sight of chairs and an empty bed as she passed the dining room and her only child’s bedroom. Not a soul present on the bottom floor of this oven she called home.
The brick and stone all brought together with beautiful masonry work was a classic testament to the timeless architecture of the sizable house. Two stories and a loft were full of her life’s work, her heart’s passion. She walked past that work now in her office; it also was bathed in the flickering, warm hues. Her work had brought food to the table and shelter above their heads. They had everything they needed and many things they’d wanted. They were a team. Him with his music and golden voice and she, his biggest fan and the heart in the words his voice sang. She’d found success first with her written works. They were hundreds of pages at a time that had landed her on many a best seller list. The first masterpiece had been snatched up when she was just fifteen. He had been her biggest supporter and now eight years later he still was.
She walked through the kitchen with its hanging stainless steel pots and mosaic Spanish tiled floor. This was the heart of their home and burned the hottest, the brightest, and why not? This was the point of origin after all. The flickering flames of vengeance danced to the beat of her husband’s most recent hit. It was the live version and the fans could be heard in the background chanting his name like a litany, Austin, Austin, Austin! The beautiful words rolling out of speakers had yet to be asked to dance with the heat that courted them, a heat that was the product of their owner’s jealous rage. “Words”, she thought with a bitter smile, “that were her heart, her soul, her creation, yet sang by Austin’s pipes of flawless quality.
Their dog, Felicity, barked with maddening urgency from the back yard. It was an identical pitch and intensity as it had been the morning Austin and she had woke to their daughter Megan missing. Megan was nowhere to be found and as the girl’s mother Brandi had come close to losing her marbles. The police had initiated a search for the child with grim expressions. The child had been snatched from her bed in the dead of night. Felicity had been a birthday present for their four year old daughter. It was Felicity that had tracked Megan’s scent and led authorities straight to her, but Brandi didn’t want to think on that. It was still a fresh hurt.
Up the stairs she climbed flanked by her hot flickering friends, also a masterpiece of her creation. They ascended the staircase together, bathing Brandi in swirling tendrils of warm, foggy, smoke. Her eyes would have stung had she been so inclined to be in a state of feeling physical sensation. But no, she’d been sure to remedy that particular element of hindering. She reached the summit of the stairs and her friends of inferno stopped just before the master bedroom door. This room was anything but empty; it boasted a unique venue of visual stimulation, a collage of white, red… and him! If she’d known before what she knew now this would have happened sooner. Her maternal instinct would have demanded it!
She’d returned early from her writer’s conference in Chicago and stumbled onto the sight she was looking at now, well mostly. The neighbor’s wife, Jaqueline, from a half mile down their private road, had certainly had better looking days! Brandi’s flickering friends inched past her and clung to the bedroom walls like the geckos from honeymoon bungalow on the beautiful island of New Caledonia. She wrote erotic scenes of men and women in many of her romantic works, but it was there in the humid heat of a sand covered island that she’d been delivered from her innocence and ushered into woman hood on her wedding night.
The flames crawled along the walls, creeped along the floor, happily eating the expensive materials. She crossed the threshold and her essence shimmered. She knew Austin could see her even in this state of existence. His enlarged eyes told her so. She shifted her gaze to the right. Jaqueline lay gloriously naked and motionless beside him. Her head rested on a blood red pillow, an eerie contrast to the fluffy, white, down bedding that graced Brandi and Austin’s marital bed. Jaqueline’s husband, Bernie, was a nice man, a good man and had loved her to a fault. He’d be crushed when he got wind of where, how, and with whom Jaqueline would be found. A single spectral tear slid down Brandi’s cheek. For Bernie, she felt sincere remorse.
She stepped gingerly over the heap that was still warm, but most certainly dead, on the floor at her feet. Brandi shivered with cold. Her form shimmered again and she knew her time here was short. The little hand found hers and she cast her eyes down into the angelic 4 year old’s face, a face that had Brandi’s eyes and Austin’s nose. Megan’s form flickered. She’d been found 6 weeks ago at the bottom of the pond on Jaqueline’s property. Authorities said she’d been killed elsewhere and dumped there. Jaqueline had appeared mortified, but Brandi now knew the woman’s mortification had been an act. During her conference in Chicago she realized she had accidently picked up her husband’s phone in her rush to get out the door. Her phone had already been in her purse. Austin’s phone had gotten a text from Jaqueline that read:
“Brandi doesn’t suspect anything, does she? She can’t see her, “Accident” coming Austin. After Brandi and Bernie are out of the picture, we will both get all their assets and we can start making our own babies. We’ll be filthy rich! I can give you another Megan, Austin; I know how hard it was for you to turn a blind eye to what had to be done. Megan was Brandi’s soul benefactor, with Megan gone everything will fall to you my love”
“Mommy is daddy coming soon.” Megan said as she looked up at her mother with adoration in her eyes. Her eyes were as beautiful in death as they had been in life, endless layered depths of hazel ringed with intense green rings at the iris edges. Long light brown lashes that matched her head full of curls, accented her lids. Brandi turned the child away from the bedroom scene and shook her head yes quietly then gave Megan a nudge back to the place beyond this place.
She stood and returned her gaze to Austin’s face. He trembled with fear as the flames traveled up the fine down comforter that draped their bed. The flames started to lick at his skin and still she watched as screams of agonized pain exploded from his lungs. He struggled against his restraints but they held him firmly to the bed. He had been high on his latest drug, whatever it was, and it had made him disoriented and sluggish, but the tying him up had been hours ago and he was sober now. He felt the heat of the fire that danced upon Jaqueline’s lifeless body next to him. Brandi was thinking a bullet to the head hardly seemed like justice enough for that evil bitch but her rage in the moment had not thought twice about it. Austin screamed in terror as the flames charred and melted away the flesh of Jaqueline’s face.
Austin looked back to his wife and she shimmered again. He pleaded with his eyes, mostly because his voice had been occupied with screams of pain. The stupid fool, didn’t he know there was nothing she could do about his situation now. Well hell, it was just too damn late now wasn’t it! The flames traveled up his legs singeing hair and destroying skin as it went. She felt a frigid coolness upon her back and then directly at her side. She looked up into the eyes of Death. The expression on his skeletal features was clear even with his hood blocking out a good portion of the fire’s light. He was warning Brandi that she was walking a thin line.
“There is only so much allowed where righteous vengeance is concerned. Reaping the visual fruits of your justified actions is not one of them Brandi.” Death said to her. She shook her head in understanding and took one last look at the bloody heap on the floor at her feet. It was the one place still left untouched by the now raging inferno. The silver tinted metal of the 45 was lying haphazardly on the floor at the foot of the bed next to the woman’s deceased form. She boasted a vicious looking gunshot wound to the head; a head that housed eyes wide in a petrified stare of death… her eyes. She felt Death’s hand on her arm.
“It’s time to go.” Death told her firmly.
She nodded her affirmation and was gone. Death looked back to Austin screaming in agony as the flames finally took him over and slowly burned his life away.
“I’ll be back for you momentarily. If you think this is hot just wait.” Death said with a knowing smile and cynical laugh.
Death, with his black hooded cloak, vanished leaving Austin to meet his gruesome end for conspiring in taking his daughter’s life for his own selfish gain.
 
  
  April 13, 2017
So you want an agent?
Traditional publishing is not for everyone. With Indie and self-publishing on the rise it seems that the desire to obtain an agent is starting to be weighed against doing it all on one’s own. To those authors that are braving the turbulent waters of self-publishing, I commend you, way to take charge and make that dream a reality! As for me and many other authors, the prospect of an agent is still very desirable. If you are reading this and still on the fence as to how you are going to accomplish your publishing dreams then reading on can’t hurt. Knowledge after all is power, and power brings change.
An agent is more than just a literary professional with ties to editors of publishing houses and presses. THE RIGHT AGENT will be your partner in this fast paced industry, a guide who will give it to you straight because your success is also their success. In short, it is a team effort. In order for a team to emerge from any competition victorious, it takes skill, dedication, and team work. As authors our skill is obvious, writing. Agents are busy people folks! Agents read, many write and edit, and at some time they all pitch. Notice I said all. It is a competitive thing and it takes people skills, as well as a vast knowledge of what editors and publishers want…in that moment. Just the fact that it can change from day to day, week to week, and month to month, makes me dizzy. That’s a lot to keep on top of along with reading the hundreds of queries that are constantly flooding their inbox just so they can pick a few that are possible fits for their list. They are going to pick what they believe they can sell, bottom line! Then there are the clients they already rep, oh yes, they must make time for them as well! No wonder form letters are a common thing. So my point is don’t fool yourself, agents are very busy!
So the first step is to take the time, spend that energy to find that DREAM AGENT through research. Yeah I said it; we do it for our writing! We need to do it when it comes to prospective agents as well!
1.) What genre do you write, find an agent that reps it.
I write Fantasy and when I was ready to query my first book I set out with that key word in various search engines. I came across an agent that I loved! I read his agency bio, everything was perfect! I read his Blog and oh my goodness his personality was hilarious! I trolled his twitter to learn more and he was exactly what I wanted in an agent! He had experience, he had a sense of humor, he had professionalism; he had awesome books and clients that he reps! So I took a cold hard look at my manuscript, I was sure it was something that he’d enjoy and that it would fit his list nicely. So I queried this, MY DREAM AGENT! He got back to me incredibly fast with a very polite rejection. Crushed doesn’t describe how I felt. I felt I must have missed something and reread his MSWL. Well my mistake was so idiotic I am embarrassed to admit it… sigh… He reps ADULT fantasy. It was an error on my part because I write YA. Is he still my Dream Agent? Uh yes! Will he ever rep me? Yeah…Probably not. Will I query him with future projects? No! It would be a waste of his and my time because he doesn’t rep YA and I don’t write Adult. The moral of the story, make sure the agents you query rep both your subject genre and your age genre! If you write fantastic ADULT fantasy or science fiction I highly recommend querying him. So leave your email in the comments below and I will email you his name.
2.) Determining if an agent is the correct fit.
So we’ve all heard the saying, “Actions speak louder than words” Ironic given that words are what we do! Reading their manuscript wish list, bios, blogs, publisher’s marketplace, query tracker, and #mswl are all great places to start! But just as important is their list. Many agents list their clients on their agency website. How many of those clients write something in your genres? If the answer is none, chances are that agent is not a good fit for you and you are more than likely are not a good fit for them. Unless they specifically and recently are pretty much describing your book in their wants, I’d move on and save both of you some precious time. I have to give credit where credit is due. My sister actually gave me this idea, she’s a genius, check out her blog carolynmwalker.wordpress.com, it’s worth the visit!
3.) Interviews are treasure troves of informative tid-bits.
If I make it to this point in my research then I am seriously interested and want a more personal feel for an agent. It was my practice of doing this that brought me to my new Genre Appropriate DREAM AGENT! It has been a year since my dreams were dashed due to my own neglect to be thorough, but now, let’s just say she practically described my book to the letter as something she wants! I queried her and am still waiting! Wish me luck! So interviews… yes! You can learn so much about that perfect agent this way, personal interests, pet peeves, and what will get your query rejected immediately. All the little things you won’t learn by simply looking at a Manuscript Wish List or agency bio. Agents do interviews for a reason! Utilize them because they are there to be seen. I hope this blog post was informative and good luck querying!
 
  
  April 4, 2017
Two things that need to take place before you can call your manuscript “POLISHED”.
1.) Proof Read and Edit: (P.R.A.E.)
Probably the most obvious of things to do before you can call your manuscript polished is Proof Reading and Editing or as I like to call it P.R.A.E. So you finally finished your master piece! You poured your heart, soul, blood, tears, sweat, and countless sleepless nights to achieve the feat but there it is! What a sense of relief, accomplishment, and pride and now you want to share it with the world. Let’s fire up those Beta readers and get this show on the road! Whoa easy now, down boy, or girl which ever you happen to be. Beta readers are an essential part of the polishing process, but you are jumping the gun! Before we approach those wonderful beta readers we save them some eye sores by editing our own work first. Sure you wrote the story but have you sat down and READ it? If you answered no you need to take a step back, take a deep breath, and put on your reading cap.
So proof reading is when you sit and go through your manuscript to fix the obvious mistakes that jump out at you. Trust me if you catch them on the first read through, everyone else would have too! You read through, make all the corrections as you go. Then when you are done you do it again only this time read the manuscript aloud because more often than not the ear will catch what the eye tends to miss. Now me personally I do these two steps until I can read through the entire manuscript without feeling like I have to change anything. Then and only then do I take it to the next level, because I have done all that I can do at this point in time to make it perfect!
2.) Bring on the Beta Readers:
I cannot stress enough the importance of Beta readers. There are three types of beta readers that a writer should utilize in my opinion to get a wide range of feedback.
A.) The Stranger – This type of Beta reader is not for everyone. You will get the most straight forward feedback from this variety because there is no familiarity between you and the reader. These are the Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, or pen pal type friends f you’ve never actually met! As a result they will be less inclined to, “Sugar Coat” what actually needs to be said about your writing in their opinion. This is mostly because they have absolutely nothing to lose for being brutally honest about your work. Opinions are just that OPINIONS and you can pick and choose what you want to consider. That being said I feel the need to mention that if you do go this route (and I do – often) Select three to four Beta Readers. If the same complaints or, “OPINIONS” keep resurfacing from your different readers you may want to revisit the issue they are talking about. Chances are there is some relevance there.
B.) The Acquaintance – This type of beta reader is what I like to refer to as middle of the road. They know of you and you of them but you are not exactly friends. These are your co-workers, your gym mates, church peers, your neighbors, your school mates, and your co soccer moms or dads (or whatever kind of sport parent you are if you’re a parent at all!) They will be a little nicer when they get into what about your work needs to be fixed. So they will more than likely tell you what is wrong without complete disregard to your feelings because let’s face it chances are they are going to run into you again at some point more than likely.
C.) The Friend or Family Member – This type of beta reader is someone in your inner circle and the most common go to when it comes to beta readers. These readers will be supportive and very conscious of how their comments make you feel, because lets face it, they love you or at the very least care about you. As a general rule we try not to hurt those we love or care about. Ah but don’t lose heart, these types of beta readers are most definitely going to lean more on the grammar side of the corrections your manuscript needs to see. This is why I start with these types of beta readers. They help me to catch the basic errors I sometimes tend to miss like misspellings, comma misuse, and vocabulary used out of context.
I use all these types of beta readers when polishing my work to a shine and each stage of the beta reading process has its advantages. The bottom line is when you have so many eyes looking at you work you run less of a chance for errors. If there are any errors, and most times there will be, they will be few and far between. It doesn’t hurt to do the same thing for your synopsis and query letter.
Thanks for checking out my blog please feel free to comment and like. I post at least twice a week, all things literary. If there is a topic you would like to see more on let me know in the comments and I will research the topic and post the findings in a discussion here.
 
  
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