Michelle Hauck's Blog, page 105
June 1, 2014
QK Round 1: A Bit of Code versus Love Is Hell
Entry Nickname: A Bit of CodeTitle: HELLO_WORLDWord count: 80KGenre: Adult Sci-Fi
Query:
Scott Gris’ skills as a surveillance expert come in pretty handy when he’s breaking down firewalls with his hacker buddies. But internet hijinks aren't enough; they're going after the holy grail of hacks–UltSyn's Human Information Drives, assets implanted with cerebral microchips. When they find an encrypted list of names, Scott's convinced his missing sister, Victoria, didn’t just run off with her boyfriend like her family was lead to believe.
Obsessed with finding Victoria, he tracks her halfway around the world. As Scott digs deeper into restricted databases he discovers those who enlist with UltSyn get far more than they bargained for. Plunged into a world of human trafficking and corporate espionage, Scott is determined to find his sister, no matter the cost. Targeting Sonia, the HID believed to contain information about his sister, he plans to steal her data and use it to bring UltSyn down. But when the information reveals that his sister has been working for UltSyn all along, he has to find her–before UltSyn finds him.
First 250 words:
The whole world lives in two places at once. The one that is real and then the digital verse, where a pull of the strings can affect the world outside. But doing so leaves a trace. Even the corporations, the engineers, the hackers that live in both worlds can’t fully wash their footsteps away. The bigger you are the larger the shadow you will cast.
That was part of the reason why I turned into a lone wolf. My digital trail is tiny in comparison to an organized group. I had no loose ends that could be pulled; no emails about where the team would meet up, no phone calls to check in with would be co-workers. It worked better this way.
I wasn't trying to take on the world, just trying to save one person.
It never seemed liked an outlandish goal at the time.
I hacked into several databases and started tracking the movements of Human Information Devices. HIDs are flesh and blood hard drives and the classified prizes of business world. Valued for the ability to keep secrets. The rest of the world is only just now seeing them as the technological wonder they are. I had a feeling this is where the person I was looking for disappeared to.
Before this, HIDs were urban legends, the Holy Grail of the hacking community. If it was even possible to hack them it is incredibly hard to do. It was a challenge a lot of people wanted to take, but I was the only one ever given the chance.
VERSUS
Entry Nickname: Love is HellTitle: Daughter of LilithWord Count: 71,000Genre: YA Paranormal Query:
As a half-demon, sixteen-year-old Ariel rips souls from the living as casually as mortals order coffee.
Raised by her abusive teacher, Batal, Ariel blindly accepts all humans are a worthless blight on the world – especially males. But when a car accident leaves her stranded, a minister’s son, Mike Flannery, goes beyond the call of duty to help.
Getting to know him, Ariel starts questioning her upbringing. Mike’s kindness and sincerity suggests he’s not the filthy slime her teacher claims him to be. She soon realizes he brings out something in her she didn’t know she had - humanity. Refusing to return home, Ariel vows to never again let Batal or anyone else manipulate her. However, Batal is not about to let one of her pawns escape without a fight.
Now the renegade demon realizes letting Mike into her life is endangering both of them. She can deny her new feelings and walk away to protect him from the creatures of Hell, or confront her sadistic headmistress, risking an eternity of suffering for a chance at love.
First 250 words:
I silently walk over to the bed, where the woman sleeps next to a man similar in age. His arm draped over her, as if to protect his possession.
A nightstand displays several pictures of the couple, including a wedding photo. The two seem happy together. But I know it’s nothing more than a façade. Men are incapable of love.
I walk around the room – as I must – searching for any signs that would prevent me from fulfilling my duty. As usual, I find none. No one from today remembers the ancient agreement.
Returning to the bed, I stand beside the woman who is asleep on her side. An elongated pillow rests between her knees and under her enlarged belly, supporting her womb.
I shake my head. How can any self-respecting female allow a son of Adam to defile her? I glare down at the male. Instinctively, I feel the corners of my mouth tighten into a snare. My stomach churns creating a bitter taste in my mouth, making me want to spit. Control, Ariel. Stay in control.
I suppress my feelings, as I’ve always done. A lesser being may not be able to, but I’m not like these frail creatures before me. I’m a daughter of Lilith, I serve The Mother.
I hold out my hand, palm facing down. I listen to the expectant mother’s breathing, and focus on her heartbeat. It’s slow and rhythmic.
I lower my hand so it hovers over her belly. Another heartbeat comes into focus, faster but still harmonious – the child’s.
Query:
Scott Gris’ skills as a surveillance expert come in pretty handy when he’s breaking down firewalls with his hacker buddies. But internet hijinks aren't enough; they're going after the holy grail of hacks–UltSyn's Human Information Drives, assets implanted with cerebral microchips. When they find an encrypted list of names, Scott's convinced his missing sister, Victoria, didn’t just run off with her boyfriend like her family was lead to believe.
Obsessed with finding Victoria, he tracks her halfway around the world. As Scott digs deeper into restricted databases he discovers those who enlist with UltSyn get far more than they bargained for. Plunged into a world of human trafficking and corporate espionage, Scott is determined to find his sister, no matter the cost. Targeting Sonia, the HID believed to contain information about his sister, he plans to steal her data and use it to bring UltSyn down. But when the information reveals that his sister has been working for UltSyn all along, he has to find her–before UltSyn finds him.
First 250 words:
The whole world lives in two places at once. The one that is real and then the digital verse, where a pull of the strings can affect the world outside. But doing so leaves a trace. Even the corporations, the engineers, the hackers that live in both worlds can’t fully wash their footsteps away. The bigger you are the larger the shadow you will cast.
That was part of the reason why I turned into a lone wolf. My digital trail is tiny in comparison to an organized group. I had no loose ends that could be pulled; no emails about where the team would meet up, no phone calls to check in with would be co-workers. It worked better this way.
I wasn't trying to take on the world, just trying to save one person.
It never seemed liked an outlandish goal at the time.
I hacked into several databases and started tracking the movements of Human Information Devices. HIDs are flesh and blood hard drives and the classified prizes of business world. Valued for the ability to keep secrets. The rest of the world is only just now seeing them as the technological wonder they are. I had a feeling this is where the person I was looking for disappeared to.
Before this, HIDs were urban legends, the Holy Grail of the hacking community. If it was even possible to hack them it is incredibly hard to do. It was a challenge a lot of people wanted to take, but I was the only one ever given the chance.
VERSUS
Entry Nickname: Love is HellTitle: Daughter of LilithWord Count: 71,000Genre: YA Paranormal Query:
As a half-demon, sixteen-year-old Ariel rips souls from the living as casually as mortals order coffee.
Raised by her abusive teacher, Batal, Ariel blindly accepts all humans are a worthless blight on the world – especially males. But when a car accident leaves her stranded, a minister’s son, Mike Flannery, goes beyond the call of duty to help.
Getting to know him, Ariel starts questioning her upbringing. Mike’s kindness and sincerity suggests he’s not the filthy slime her teacher claims him to be. She soon realizes he brings out something in her she didn’t know she had - humanity. Refusing to return home, Ariel vows to never again let Batal or anyone else manipulate her. However, Batal is not about to let one of her pawns escape without a fight.
Now the renegade demon realizes letting Mike into her life is endangering both of them. She can deny her new feelings and walk away to protect him from the creatures of Hell, or confront her sadistic headmistress, risking an eternity of suffering for a chance at love.
First 250 words:
I silently walk over to the bed, where the woman sleeps next to a man similar in age. His arm draped over her, as if to protect his possession.
A nightstand displays several pictures of the couple, including a wedding photo. The two seem happy together. But I know it’s nothing more than a façade. Men are incapable of love.
I walk around the room – as I must – searching for any signs that would prevent me from fulfilling my duty. As usual, I find none. No one from today remembers the ancient agreement.
Returning to the bed, I stand beside the woman who is asleep on her side. An elongated pillow rests between her knees and under her enlarged belly, supporting her womb.
I shake my head. How can any self-respecting female allow a son of Adam to defile her? I glare down at the male. Instinctively, I feel the corners of my mouth tighten into a snare. My stomach churns creating a bitter taste in my mouth, making me want to spit. Control, Ariel. Stay in control.
I suppress my feelings, as I’ve always done. A lesser being may not be able to, but I’m not like these frail creatures before me. I’m a daughter of Lilith, I serve The Mother.
I hold out my hand, palm facing down. I listen to the expectant mother’s breathing, and focus on her heartbeat. It’s slow and rhythmic.
I lower my hand so it hovers over her belly. Another heartbeat comes into focus, faster but still harmonious – the child’s.
QK Round 1: The Past is Back versus E=MC [squared]
Entry Nickname: The Past is Back
Title: WATERS OF OBLIVION
Word Count: 67,000
Genre: Adult Romantic Suspense
Query:
Georgetown art historian Reine Baldwin recognizes her own image in a 15th century portrait, leading to her forgotten past and a man who – in spite of her immortality – may still try to harm her.
When the usually reserved academic impulsively accepts a coffee date from a charming journalist, she unwittingly jeopardizes not only her centuries’ old secrets, but also her safety. Soon, she finds her office ransacked and her classroom flooded. Finally, after a timely invitation to Venice on the eve of Carnevale to examine the resurfaced DaVinci, an unplanned night of revelry culminates in a reunion with the painting’s owner.
The pompous, domineering, and utterly irresistible man is Massimo Baldovini. As Reine’s long-lost husband who also should have died centuries ago, he’s desperate to rekindle their relationship. Suddenly, Reine has the chance to forgo her quirky sock collection, musty libraries, and an ordinary life with any mortal man she’d surely outlive, in favor of extravagant evening gowns, powerful cars, and eternity with the one person who’s apparently loved her for half a millennium. However, after she inexplicably gets sick for the first time in five hundred years, Reine starts remembering things Massimo wishes would remain buried.
With her immortality on the line, Reine will need to determine if she can trust this man who swears he couldn’t save her from drowning on their honeymoon or whether she’s just been a pawn in Massimo’s self-serving plans from the very beginning.
First 250 words:
Reine clutched her broken hand to her chest and repeatedly tapped the “Door Close” button with the other. The pain in her fingers was almost unbearable, but it would be gone soon. Hopefully it would be soon enough.
As the elevator door slid slowly into place, she looked out into the hotel’s lobby one last time. Thankfully, it was still deserted. This wasn’t unusual given the weather and the late hour, but she knew he had to be right behind her.
He couldn’t catch up. He couldn’t see her. Not just yet.
When the elevator finally began to move, she looked at her hand again. It was shaking, but as she flexed her fingers, the last signs of bruising – and of the pain – disappeared. However, that didn’t make her happy.
Reine blamed herself for getting into this predicament. For the second time in two weeks, she almost inadvertently revealed her secret. A secret her life depended on.
She should have just ended the conversation when she fumbled to answer a simple question: “Are you married?”
But she didn’t, and that was mistake number one.
The blunder was a warning sign, and she ignored it. She had uncharacteristically let her guard down. But who wouldn’t have, if they had looked into those eyes or had seen that smile? As always, her heart would be her downfall. That’s why she had avoided listening to it for so long.
Until tonight.
And that’s when she made the second mistake: getting injured.
VERSUS
Entry Nickname: E=mc[squared]Title: Like YesterdayWord count: 81,000Genre: Commercial Fiction
Query:
Within the cold walls of his institute, Dr. Vincent Douvrey dedicated years to his innovations but none to his devoted wife. He never said “I love you”, and until her fatal car accident, he had no desire to say “I’m sorry”. Guilt-ridden and eager to deliver that apology in person, and even more eager to receive his next accolade in science, Vincent attempts his most recent innovation—transitory time travel by liquid ingestion.
But the tonic doesn’t transport him to three years prior. Instead, he awakens almost fifteen years into the past in a Florida college dorm room with passé décor. Thanks to amnesia, Vincent doesn’t remember any moment from that time, including anyone he befriended. However, an even greater obstacle plagues him: how to get back to the future.
Vincent turns to the campus library for guidance, but his research leads him to meet Carmen, a junior student who is not his wife. Carmen is immediately smitten by his Grenadian accent and unfamiliar charm and he by her stunning beauty and unselfishness. Their magnetic passion brews a sultry love affair. Meanwhile, the thirty-five-year old man she believes is twenty-one continues to seek a reverse transport solution.
However, Vincent’s hope of returning home to his acclaimed work dwindles, forcing him to relive his past while loving a woman he knows he doesn’t marry. But when he realizes he has already met Carmen, who entered his institute as a pleading stranger, Vincent hastens to find a way to return to his rightful decade to save her.
First 250 words:
Dr. Douvrey possessed a keen talent to ignore. He ignored the resounding proclamation that time travel didn’t exist. He ignored his wife who loved him more than her nursing shoes worn to their last shred of rubber. He ignored his mother who told him he wouldn’t succeed without her international clout. But this talent was often tested by his incompetent assistant of eight years, whom he observed from his chamber as she mixed and spilled chemicals onto his laminate lab table, incinerating it layer by layer.
It was only the eleventh table he had to replace because of her; one more was sure to be ruined within the year. Hazy smoke smothered her face, obstructing her view of the doctor’s narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. She owned a brilliant mind, but the doctor found it challenging each new day to ignore her fumbles, destructions, and blabbering. After four long breaths and a silent prayer for strength not to kill her, Dr. Douvrey turned his back toward the window. He continued to isolate himself within the glass room of toxic fumes, a poor attempt to escape her recurrent interferences and to maintain his state of being alone.
The chamber upheld its purpose of providing security and safety as well as being aesthetically pleasing to his eyes. Upon each entry of the room, the doctor often admired the stainless steel upon the ceiling and wall trims and the extensive counters on which he performed all testing of his formulas.
Title: WATERS OF OBLIVION
Word Count: 67,000
Genre: Adult Romantic Suspense
Query:
Georgetown art historian Reine Baldwin recognizes her own image in a 15th century portrait, leading to her forgotten past and a man who – in spite of her immortality – may still try to harm her.
When the usually reserved academic impulsively accepts a coffee date from a charming journalist, she unwittingly jeopardizes not only her centuries’ old secrets, but also her safety. Soon, she finds her office ransacked and her classroom flooded. Finally, after a timely invitation to Venice on the eve of Carnevale to examine the resurfaced DaVinci, an unplanned night of revelry culminates in a reunion with the painting’s owner.
The pompous, domineering, and utterly irresistible man is Massimo Baldovini. As Reine’s long-lost husband who also should have died centuries ago, he’s desperate to rekindle their relationship. Suddenly, Reine has the chance to forgo her quirky sock collection, musty libraries, and an ordinary life with any mortal man she’d surely outlive, in favor of extravagant evening gowns, powerful cars, and eternity with the one person who’s apparently loved her for half a millennium. However, after she inexplicably gets sick for the first time in five hundred years, Reine starts remembering things Massimo wishes would remain buried.
With her immortality on the line, Reine will need to determine if she can trust this man who swears he couldn’t save her from drowning on their honeymoon or whether she’s just been a pawn in Massimo’s self-serving plans from the very beginning.
First 250 words:
Reine clutched her broken hand to her chest and repeatedly tapped the “Door Close” button with the other. The pain in her fingers was almost unbearable, but it would be gone soon. Hopefully it would be soon enough.
As the elevator door slid slowly into place, she looked out into the hotel’s lobby one last time. Thankfully, it was still deserted. This wasn’t unusual given the weather and the late hour, but she knew he had to be right behind her.
He couldn’t catch up. He couldn’t see her. Not just yet.
When the elevator finally began to move, she looked at her hand again. It was shaking, but as she flexed her fingers, the last signs of bruising – and of the pain – disappeared. However, that didn’t make her happy.
Reine blamed herself for getting into this predicament. For the second time in two weeks, she almost inadvertently revealed her secret. A secret her life depended on.
She should have just ended the conversation when she fumbled to answer a simple question: “Are you married?”
But she didn’t, and that was mistake number one.
The blunder was a warning sign, and she ignored it. She had uncharacteristically let her guard down. But who wouldn’t have, if they had looked into those eyes or had seen that smile? As always, her heart would be her downfall. That’s why she had avoided listening to it for so long.
Until tonight.
And that’s when she made the second mistake: getting injured.
VERSUS
Entry Nickname: E=mc[squared]Title: Like YesterdayWord count: 81,000Genre: Commercial Fiction
Query:
Within the cold walls of his institute, Dr. Vincent Douvrey dedicated years to his innovations but none to his devoted wife. He never said “I love you”, and until her fatal car accident, he had no desire to say “I’m sorry”. Guilt-ridden and eager to deliver that apology in person, and even more eager to receive his next accolade in science, Vincent attempts his most recent innovation—transitory time travel by liquid ingestion.
But the tonic doesn’t transport him to three years prior. Instead, he awakens almost fifteen years into the past in a Florida college dorm room with passé décor. Thanks to amnesia, Vincent doesn’t remember any moment from that time, including anyone he befriended. However, an even greater obstacle plagues him: how to get back to the future.
Vincent turns to the campus library for guidance, but his research leads him to meet Carmen, a junior student who is not his wife. Carmen is immediately smitten by his Grenadian accent and unfamiliar charm and he by her stunning beauty and unselfishness. Their magnetic passion brews a sultry love affair. Meanwhile, the thirty-five-year old man she believes is twenty-one continues to seek a reverse transport solution.
However, Vincent’s hope of returning home to his acclaimed work dwindles, forcing him to relive his past while loving a woman he knows he doesn’t marry. But when he realizes he has already met Carmen, who entered his institute as a pleading stranger, Vincent hastens to find a way to return to his rightful decade to save her.
First 250 words:
Dr. Douvrey possessed a keen talent to ignore. He ignored the resounding proclamation that time travel didn’t exist. He ignored his wife who loved him more than her nursing shoes worn to their last shred of rubber. He ignored his mother who told him he wouldn’t succeed without her international clout. But this talent was often tested by his incompetent assistant of eight years, whom he observed from his chamber as she mixed and spilled chemicals onto his laminate lab table, incinerating it layer by layer.
It was only the eleventh table he had to replace because of her; one more was sure to be ruined within the year. Hazy smoke smothered her face, obstructing her view of the doctor’s narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. She owned a brilliant mind, but the doctor found it challenging each new day to ignore her fumbles, destructions, and blabbering. After four long breaths and a silent prayer for strength not to kill her, Dr. Douvrey turned his back toward the window. He continued to isolate himself within the glass room of toxic fumes, a poor attempt to escape her recurrent interferences and to maintain his state of being alone.
The chamber upheld its purpose of providing security and safety as well as being aesthetically pleasing to his eyes. Upon each entry of the room, the doctor often admired the stainless steel upon the ceiling and wall trims and the extensive counters on which he performed all testing of his formulas.
QK Round 1: Mechano Cat versus Making Boys Cry
Entry Nickname: Mechano Cat
Title: Down Track
Word Count: 83,000
Genre: NA Sci-fi
VERSUS
Entry Nickname: Making Boys CryTitle: Virtual RebelWord count: 90,000Genre: NA Science Fiction
Query:
The warrior. It's a title 18-year-old Kali Ling earned bringing men to their knees -- inside video games.
Literally.
In 2054, fully-immersive virtual reality plugs a player directly into the game. So when digital fighting tournaments become a national sport, Kali's life transforms into a whirlwind of fame, fake smiles, and nonstop partying in L.A.'s hottest clubs.
But when her teammate Nathan O.D.'s, Kali slams into the dark side of virtual gaming: drug addiction and insanity. As a gamer who's swallowed a few too many pills herself and a Chinese-American whose Taoist father taught better, reality abandons Kali at the crossroads of identity crises and adulthood. Realizing she might not last until the season's end, she trades partying for Asian philosophy and nightly sparring sessions with her team's latest recruit (who she can't help picturing in nothing but a strategically placed controller). But just as Kali finds peace within herself, the Virtual Gaming League erases Nathan from its database and whitewashes the truth behind his demise for the sake of ratings.
For ratings? Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong.
Furious, Kali swaps fame for fighting in her friend's honor in the VGL's championship tournament. But the industry threatens to strip away everything she's become if she doesn't back down. Now, Kali must choose: keep the career, identity, and newfound peace she worked so hard to achieve or stand against an industry that cares more about its popularity than its athletes. This time it's game over. Permanently.
First 250 words:
This wasn't the first time I'd died. Sure as hell wouldn't be the last either. But while most eighteen-year-old girls studied, gossiped, and swooned over boys, there was no other way I'd rather spend my Saturday night.
Crouched high on the tower's parapet, I overlooked a sea of wheat fields. The scent of lavender and the taste wheatgrass wove together in the air, drifting alongside the breeze that swept through my hair. I took a deep breath and smiled at the irony, as thick as the mountain air filling my lungs. Lavender. Wheat fields. Tranquility.
Peace, in a place anything but peaceful.
Movement in the fields caught my eye, down and right. A zigzag carved its way through the ten-foot tall stocks, heading straight for the tower. My smile pulled wider. Maybe this sucker had the balls to take on Kali Ling.
The warrior.
I stilled inside. Even breaths. No fear. At the field's edge, the stocks trembled violently. The air filled with the rainstick rustling of brush and dry grass. Yes. Someone would emerge. I gripped the sword sheathed across my back and waited, muscles tight, mouth watering. Come on. Give me something. A brute. Six -- no -- seven feet tall, wielding a mace. Or an axe.
Give me anything.
A rabbit scurried out from the field. Nothing followed. The grass fluttered in the breeze. Birds chirped, nestled in the nearby sycamore trees. It was the rabbit, and only the rabbit.
For now.
I punched the parapet's brick wall, but instead of frustration, irony reverberated through me again.
Title: Down Track
Word Count: 83,000
Genre: NA Sci-fi
Query: Life should be lemonade and caviar for twenty-year-old Tori Montgomery, since she’s a member of the nobility of Texas. Then her daddy goes bullbat crazy, murdering her mother and little brothers before committing suicide. Left penniless, and deemed a social pariah by the rest of the upper crust snobs in her psychic world, Tori tosses away her morals. Thieving’s profitable enough for a desperate young lady, especially with her telekinetic abilities.Kaiden Hale is a gun-slinging Texas Ranger. His psychic ability turns him into a human lie detector. Good for him, bad for Tori. But Kaiden has secrets of his own. When his brother goes missing, Kaiden decides to dirty his boots and ask his ex-neighbor, Tori, to help track him down. Tori thinks helping the lawman will be a quick paycheck—until they stumble over a murdered body. While investigating, Kaiden and Tori discover a pattern of kidnappings linked to a doomsday cult. Talented psychics are what the cult is after, and Tori’s name is next on their list. Kaiden is drawn to the recalcitrant Tori and determined to protect her at all cost—whether she agrees or not.When the cult’s true intentions of releasing a deadly virus is revealed, Tori realizes it will take more than her telekinesis to save them. Trusting a person is dumber than floating in an airship leaking helium. But if she and Kaiden are going to rescue his brother and survive with all body parts intact, Tori must accept Kaiden’s help. First 250 words:I might be a thief from a disgraced family, but I still have my pride. Mama always told me that posture and attitude mark a lady, so I straighten my back and plaster a polite smile on my face. In thirty minutes, the National Nighttime Airship Race commences. This is the first time the city has hosted the event, and the population seems to have doubled in the last couple of days. The setting sun gleams in a pinkish-orange smear across the sky. The metal, cigar-shaped ships are anchored on the landing green, waiting for dusk to fade to dark. Fans, wearing their team colors on sashes, mill around the area like worker ants. And since it’s Texas, any crowd this size requires a Cook-off, ‘cause nothing completes a party more than barbeque, beer, and brawling. The aroma of grilling brisket and onions floats on the dusty wind. My stomach gurgles, but I ignore it. Business comes first. I weave around grill pits, tipsy revelers, and trucks with their tailgates down. Music blasts from a hundred different radios, drowning out the announcer on the squawking loudspeaker. I leave the good-natured melee, heading toward the iridescent force field that protects the wealthy from the peons. The field does a nifty job of keeping out mosquitos too. Private security protects the gate. The nearest guard’s expression doesn’t change as my dark blue silk dress, with the fashionably small bustle and frilly overskirt, is unmistakably upper class. I stole it specifically for this job.
VERSUS
Entry Nickname: Making Boys CryTitle: Virtual RebelWord count: 90,000Genre: NA Science Fiction
Query:
The warrior. It's a title 18-year-old Kali Ling earned bringing men to their knees -- inside video games.
Literally.
In 2054, fully-immersive virtual reality plugs a player directly into the game. So when digital fighting tournaments become a national sport, Kali's life transforms into a whirlwind of fame, fake smiles, and nonstop partying in L.A.'s hottest clubs.
But when her teammate Nathan O.D.'s, Kali slams into the dark side of virtual gaming: drug addiction and insanity. As a gamer who's swallowed a few too many pills herself and a Chinese-American whose Taoist father taught better, reality abandons Kali at the crossroads of identity crises and adulthood. Realizing she might not last until the season's end, she trades partying for Asian philosophy and nightly sparring sessions with her team's latest recruit (who she can't help picturing in nothing but a strategically placed controller). But just as Kali finds peace within herself, the Virtual Gaming League erases Nathan from its database and whitewashes the truth behind his demise for the sake of ratings.
For ratings? Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong.
Furious, Kali swaps fame for fighting in her friend's honor in the VGL's championship tournament. But the industry threatens to strip away everything she's become if she doesn't back down. Now, Kali must choose: keep the career, identity, and newfound peace she worked so hard to achieve or stand against an industry that cares more about its popularity than its athletes. This time it's game over. Permanently.
First 250 words:
This wasn't the first time I'd died. Sure as hell wouldn't be the last either. But while most eighteen-year-old girls studied, gossiped, and swooned over boys, there was no other way I'd rather spend my Saturday night.
Crouched high on the tower's parapet, I overlooked a sea of wheat fields. The scent of lavender and the taste wheatgrass wove together in the air, drifting alongside the breeze that swept through my hair. I took a deep breath and smiled at the irony, as thick as the mountain air filling my lungs. Lavender. Wheat fields. Tranquility.
Peace, in a place anything but peaceful.
Movement in the fields caught my eye, down and right. A zigzag carved its way through the ten-foot tall stocks, heading straight for the tower. My smile pulled wider. Maybe this sucker had the balls to take on Kali Ling.
The warrior.
I stilled inside. Even breaths. No fear. At the field's edge, the stocks trembled violently. The air filled with the rainstick rustling of brush and dry grass. Yes. Someone would emerge. I gripped the sword sheathed across my back and waited, muscles tight, mouth watering. Come on. Give me something. A brute. Six -- no -- seven feet tall, wielding a mace. Or an axe.
Give me anything.
A rabbit scurried out from the field. Nothing followed. The grass fluttered in the breeze. Birds chirped, nestled in the nearby sycamore trees. It was the rabbit, and only the rabbit.
For now.
I punched the parapet's brick wall, but instead of frustration, irony reverberated through me again.
QK Round 1: Sunnyside Up versus Lowlife Extraordinaire
Entry Nickname: SunnysideUp
Title: If I Promise You the Sun
Word count: 89,000
Genre: YA Contemporary Thriller
Query:
Sixteen-year-old Eve Thomas doesn’t mind that she can’t leave Nova Vita, an Amish-like religious community that rejects most technology and has perfected solar power. Except for the compulsions and tics linked to her photographic memory, life in her mountain home is paradise.
But when her little brother shows signs of a genetic disorder the cult won’t treat, she questions everything she’s been taught. As she searches frantically for a cure, Eve has no idea that someone is watching her, an eighteen-year-old boy named Mana Aquino. A migrant worker from the garbage slums of Manila, Mana is determined to kill the cult’s leader—the bishop who used his sister as a human sacrifice and treats all laborers like slaves. He just can’t seem to get anywhere near his prey, not even by sleeping with the wife of the bishop’s right-hand man.
After Mana learns about Eve’s memory, he offers to sneak medicine to her brother, if she’ll serve as his human camera, gathering information that could ruin the bishop. If Eve accepts, she’ll commit a crime that will destroy the only home she’s ever known. If she says no, her beloved brother’s as good as dead.
I hold an M.A. in creative writing from Syracuse University, am a member of SCBWI, and have published several reviews of children’s books in The New York Times.
First 250 words:
Mama and I use all our muscle to pin my sister in the kitchen chair so medics can find a vein and fill a vial with her blood. Every child in Nova Vita is being tested for an illness so rare it has no name, and each one who tests positive will die. The Bishop agreed to let researchers study us, as long as they don’t interfere with our beliefs. This year, we’ll know ahead of time who we’re going to lose.
“Let me go!” Theresa shouts, her arms and legs flailing.
Restraining a furious six-year-old is no easy task. I gasp for breath as her bare foot wallops my gut. Miraculously, once the needle’s in, she stops resisting—her limbs relax and her hazel eyes widen. The thin red stream shooting up into the glass is beautiful. After we release her, I grunt and tap the back of the chair four times. Not because I want to, but because I can’t stop myself.
About two children fall ill in each of our four settlements every year. It can take months for them to die, as muscle control, then eyesight, then breathing fail. When you turn thirteen, your parents finally explain that there’s no cure, maybe not even outside of Nova Vita. The cause may be genetic, which means it’s in God’s hands. The Book of Healing reminds us that illness is part of Nature and Nature doesn’t make mistakes.
Sarah’s next. Nearly nine, she’d rather live in a chicken coop than let anyone see she’s scared.
VERSUSEntry nickname: Lowlife Extraordinaire
Title: THE MADMEN'S CITY
Word count: 73K
Genre: YA Noir
Query:
Teen vigilante Gwen Kane uses her fists and a strict moral code to flatten any lowlife who dare prey on the innocents of Towton City. Her rival, Silas Snow, opts for a pistol, a silencer and a shot in the dark. To Silas, death is the only suitable punishment for the iniquitous criminals who prowl the seedy streets. And to Gwen, Silas is just another murderer. Working together would only end in World War III.
Their paths collide when a masked mobster frames Gwen’s father for a violent hit. Silas claims to have a lead on the truth, and they agree to put their moral disputes aside to hunt down the real killer–together. They hatch a plan to trap the true culprit, involving a trek through the metro tunnels and a fight that leaves them bruised, bloody and back at square one. And when the puppet master behind it all shifts the target to Gwen’s friends and loved ones, Gwen finds evidence that Silas may have shot the bullet that started everything.
With no one left to trust, Gwen sets out alone to stop the killer from claiming his next victim, even if he turns out to be Silas, a corrupt cop or the Boss of the mafia himself. The clock ticks down to her father’s date with death row, and Gwen refuses to let him die. It’s time to stop playing nice.
First 250 words:
The corpse weighs down my arms as I drag it into the middle of the silent street. I drop it onto the pavement and begin arranging the limbs so that it resembles a filthy, rotting log. Humming, I settle the feet onto the center white line as a thick breeze rustles my trench coat. I’d caught this one stalking a girl home from her waitressing job at Four Points Pizzeria, knife glinting in the moonlight. A quick squirt of metal into the side of his head, and that’s the last time he’ll ever see that girl. Or anyone else.
His vacant eyes stare up at me. Nicky D’Amico, a Soldier in the infamous Nerozzi crime family. A trickle of blood runs down his face and pools onto the pavement. It’s not often enough I bag a mobster, and this one will send the appropriate message.
I’m watching you, I think, as I twist toward the slums. Enjoy cleaning up the mess.
I only make it half a block before the crunch of boots on broken glass freezes me mid-step. Crunch.
Slipping my hand into my pocket to finger my pistol, I eye the street before me. Nothing there other than an emptiness swallowing up the space where cars and buses rumble by during daylight hours. Another crunch. Slowly, I turn. Nothing there either. Someone else skulks down these streets, and anyone hugging the darkness is surely someone on my long list of lowlifes extraordinaire.
And he just saw me dump the body.
Title: If I Promise You the Sun
Word count: 89,000
Genre: YA Contemporary Thriller
Query:
Sixteen-year-old Eve Thomas doesn’t mind that she can’t leave Nova Vita, an Amish-like religious community that rejects most technology and has perfected solar power. Except for the compulsions and tics linked to her photographic memory, life in her mountain home is paradise.
But when her little brother shows signs of a genetic disorder the cult won’t treat, she questions everything she’s been taught. As she searches frantically for a cure, Eve has no idea that someone is watching her, an eighteen-year-old boy named Mana Aquino. A migrant worker from the garbage slums of Manila, Mana is determined to kill the cult’s leader—the bishop who used his sister as a human sacrifice and treats all laborers like slaves. He just can’t seem to get anywhere near his prey, not even by sleeping with the wife of the bishop’s right-hand man.
After Mana learns about Eve’s memory, he offers to sneak medicine to her brother, if she’ll serve as his human camera, gathering information that could ruin the bishop. If Eve accepts, she’ll commit a crime that will destroy the only home she’s ever known. If she says no, her beloved brother’s as good as dead.
I hold an M.A. in creative writing from Syracuse University, am a member of SCBWI, and have published several reviews of children’s books in The New York Times.
First 250 words:
Mama and I use all our muscle to pin my sister in the kitchen chair so medics can find a vein and fill a vial with her blood. Every child in Nova Vita is being tested for an illness so rare it has no name, and each one who tests positive will die. The Bishop agreed to let researchers study us, as long as they don’t interfere with our beliefs. This year, we’ll know ahead of time who we’re going to lose.
“Let me go!” Theresa shouts, her arms and legs flailing.
Restraining a furious six-year-old is no easy task. I gasp for breath as her bare foot wallops my gut. Miraculously, once the needle’s in, she stops resisting—her limbs relax and her hazel eyes widen. The thin red stream shooting up into the glass is beautiful. After we release her, I grunt and tap the back of the chair four times. Not because I want to, but because I can’t stop myself.
About two children fall ill in each of our four settlements every year. It can take months for them to die, as muscle control, then eyesight, then breathing fail. When you turn thirteen, your parents finally explain that there’s no cure, maybe not even outside of Nova Vita. The cause may be genetic, which means it’s in God’s hands. The Book of Healing reminds us that illness is part of Nature and Nature doesn’t make mistakes.
Sarah’s next. Nearly nine, she’d rather live in a chicken coop than let anyone see she’s scared.
VERSUSEntry nickname: Lowlife Extraordinaire
Title: THE MADMEN'S CITY
Word count: 73K
Genre: YA Noir
Query:
Teen vigilante Gwen Kane uses her fists and a strict moral code to flatten any lowlife who dare prey on the innocents of Towton City. Her rival, Silas Snow, opts for a pistol, a silencer and a shot in the dark. To Silas, death is the only suitable punishment for the iniquitous criminals who prowl the seedy streets. And to Gwen, Silas is just another murderer. Working together would only end in World War III.
Their paths collide when a masked mobster frames Gwen’s father for a violent hit. Silas claims to have a lead on the truth, and they agree to put their moral disputes aside to hunt down the real killer–together. They hatch a plan to trap the true culprit, involving a trek through the metro tunnels and a fight that leaves them bruised, bloody and back at square one. And when the puppet master behind it all shifts the target to Gwen’s friends and loved ones, Gwen finds evidence that Silas may have shot the bullet that started everything.
With no one left to trust, Gwen sets out alone to stop the killer from claiming his next victim, even if he turns out to be Silas, a corrupt cop or the Boss of the mafia himself. The clock ticks down to her father’s date with death row, and Gwen refuses to let him die. It’s time to stop playing nice.
First 250 words:
The corpse weighs down my arms as I drag it into the middle of the silent street. I drop it onto the pavement and begin arranging the limbs so that it resembles a filthy, rotting log. Humming, I settle the feet onto the center white line as a thick breeze rustles my trench coat. I’d caught this one stalking a girl home from her waitressing job at Four Points Pizzeria, knife glinting in the moonlight. A quick squirt of metal into the side of his head, and that’s the last time he’ll ever see that girl. Or anyone else.
His vacant eyes stare up at me. Nicky D’Amico, a Soldier in the infamous Nerozzi crime family. A trickle of blood runs down his face and pools onto the pavement. It’s not often enough I bag a mobster, and this one will send the appropriate message.
I’m watching you, I think, as I twist toward the slums. Enjoy cleaning up the mess.
I only make it half a block before the crunch of boots on broken glass freezes me mid-step. Crunch.
Slipping my hand into my pocket to finger my pistol, I eye the street before me. Nothing there other than an emptiness swallowing up the space where cars and buses rumble by during daylight hours. Another crunch. Slowly, I turn. Nothing there either. Someone else skulks down these streets, and anyone hugging the darkness is surely someone on my long list of lowlifes extraordinaire.
And he just saw me dump the body.
QK Round 1: Caprice No. 13 versus FirefliesLive
Entry Nickname: Caprice No. 13Title: Strung AlongWord Count: 51,000Genre: YA Contemporary
Query:
Seventeen-year-old Sarah Avery has always been a violinist, ever since her mother took her to a symphony performance when she was seven. But now her mother is dead, and Sarah’s violin is her only salvation. Her violin means Juilliard, it means an escape from her lecherous uncle and her aunt who pretends not to notice. That is, if Sarah can get in.
But the audition itself isn’t the only thing standing in Sarah’s way. Not when the guidance counselor with the overly-processed hair forces her to tutor another student for credit hours: Sawyer Cavallo, with her bright blue violin and her own share of secrets. Who, to Sarah’s surprise, ends up becoming a friend—even if she is one Sarah can’t afford. Friends get too close. Friends notice things that are off, things that Sarah would rather keep hidden. Things that she has to keep hidden.
Because if her uncle finds out she plans to leave him, he very well may kill her.
First 250 Words:
My eyes are closed.
Violin music resonates around me, Bach’s Sonata in G minor filling the air, the room, my body, notes wrapping like a cocoon around me. My bow is merely an extension of my arm, my fingers press down on the strings at the exact moment they need to make something exquisite, something perfect. This, this is what I live for, this music that makes me feel like I’m in Carnegie Hall, I’m a soloist for a great symphony, I’m—
I’m perfect.
No—I’m safe.
“Miss Avery?”
I jump, open my eyes. I’m not in Carnegie Hall. I’m in a classroom, beige walls and fluorescent lights and a tile floor that hasn’t been mopped in ages. Mrs. Canady, the music teacher turned guidance counselor, stands in front of me.
“Are you okay?” she asks, the bangles on her wrist clinking with a dissonant harmony as she waves her arm.
“You scared me.”
She shrugs, a halfhearted almost-apology. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your practice. Quite the opposite. I wanted to ask a favor of you.”
I flinch.
I don’t do favors.
“What?” I ask, shifting my weight from side to side. I tower over Mrs. Canady, so much I can begin to see her scalp through her straw thin, too-bleached hair.
But the way she’s looking at me makes me feel small.
“You’re very talented,” she says. “I was wondering what your plans were after here.”
“I… I haven’t really…”
VERSUS
Entry Nickname: FirefliesLiveTitle: AS THE FIREFLIES LIVEWord count: 70KGenre: YA Contemporary
Query:
Sixteen-year-old Callie Clover is done being the resident punching bag of Montside High. After a bully stuffs a dissected frog down Callie’s sweater to climb the social ladder, she’s staring down a handful of sleeping pills when she receives a text message:
>> [Unknown Number] You can always kill yourself later, so why don't you have some fun first?
It has to be a prank. No one would know her plans. No one even wants to know her.
The Unknown Texter keeps Callie alive long enough for her to discover an audition. It’s for a one-time orchestra conducted by her favorite musician at Carnegie Hall. But she only has six months to master the violin, which she hasn’t touched since her mom’s death. With nothing else to live for, Callie adopts the audition as her final hurrah, while the Unknown Texter and Eric, a college boy who’s never been laughed at a day in his life, fill her final days with the fun she thought was impossible with fake IDs and action movie-worthy escapes from her tormentors.
Callie can’t figure out why they’re helping her. But she needs allies as entering the competition means facing everything she’s run away from: her debilitating social anxiety, her still grieving family, and the bullies who want to knock her down for good. If Callie can't reclaim her life, she may end it after all.
First 250 Words:
So, as they say… goodbye, cruel world.
I can’t take it any longer. What did I do to deserve this? How could people smile when they hurt me? Guess now I’ll never know.
I’m doing this so they can't hate me anymore, and I don't have to hurt anymore.
There was nothing you could do. Dad, Hailey, please forgive me.
Don’t blame yourselves. Blame them.
I’m coming, Mom. See you soon.
Love,
Callie
***
>> No New Messages.
The fragility of the human body meant there were thousands of ways to die. The difference between life-and-death could be measured in mere inches: a knife glancing off your ribcage instead of your heart, a fall from great height onto grass instead of concrete. A poorly timed left turn across incoming traffic or catastrophic blood clot in your veins didn’t even allow you the courtesy of a warning. Mistakes as innocent as forgetting to look left again after looking right earned you a ten second spot on the nightly news if your life was noteworthy enough.
I wonder if it was due to the dissection exercises in biology class that made me choose sleeping pills as my method for suicide. A razor drawn across the soft, springy flesh of the wrists was a more guaranteed way to go. I certainly wasn’t thinking about suicide in class that day, but add in a dose of Regina Goulding and anyone would consider offing oneself as a more pleasant alternative.
Query:
Seventeen-year-old Sarah Avery has always been a violinist, ever since her mother took her to a symphony performance when she was seven. But now her mother is dead, and Sarah’s violin is her only salvation. Her violin means Juilliard, it means an escape from her lecherous uncle and her aunt who pretends not to notice. That is, if Sarah can get in.
But the audition itself isn’t the only thing standing in Sarah’s way. Not when the guidance counselor with the overly-processed hair forces her to tutor another student for credit hours: Sawyer Cavallo, with her bright blue violin and her own share of secrets. Who, to Sarah’s surprise, ends up becoming a friend—even if she is one Sarah can’t afford. Friends get too close. Friends notice things that are off, things that Sarah would rather keep hidden. Things that she has to keep hidden.
Because if her uncle finds out she plans to leave him, he very well may kill her.
First 250 Words:
My eyes are closed.
Violin music resonates around me, Bach’s Sonata in G minor filling the air, the room, my body, notes wrapping like a cocoon around me. My bow is merely an extension of my arm, my fingers press down on the strings at the exact moment they need to make something exquisite, something perfect. This, this is what I live for, this music that makes me feel like I’m in Carnegie Hall, I’m a soloist for a great symphony, I’m—
I’m perfect.
No—I’m safe.
“Miss Avery?”
I jump, open my eyes. I’m not in Carnegie Hall. I’m in a classroom, beige walls and fluorescent lights and a tile floor that hasn’t been mopped in ages. Mrs. Canady, the music teacher turned guidance counselor, stands in front of me.
“Are you okay?” she asks, the bangles on her wrist clinking with a dissonant harmony as she waves her arm.
“You scared me.”
She shrugs, a halfhearted almost-apology. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your practice. Quite the opposite. I wanted to ask a favor of you.”
I flinch.
I don’t do favors.
“What?” I ask, shifting my weight from side to side. I tower over Mrs. Canady, so much I can begin to see her scalp through her straw thin, too-bleached hair.
But the way she’s looking at me makes me feel small.
“You’re very talented,” she says. “I was wondering what your plans were after here.”
“I… I haven’t really…”
VERSUS
Entry Nickname: FirefliesLiveTitle: AS THE FIREFLIES LIVEWord count: 70KGenre: YA Contemporary
Query:
Sixteen-year-old Callie Clover is done being the resident punching bag of Montside High. After a bully stuffs a dissected frog down Callie’s sweater to climb the social ladder, she’s staring down a handful of sleeping pills when she receives a text message:
>> [Unknown Number] You can always kill yourself later, so why don't you have some fun first?
It has to be a prank. No one would know her plans. No one even wants to know her.
The Unknown Texter keeps Callie alive long enough for her to discover an audition. It’s for a one-time orchestra conducted by her favorite musician at Carnegie Hall. But she only has six months to master the violin, which she hasn’t touched since her mom’s death. With nothing else to live for, Callie adopts the audition as her final hurrah, while the Unknown Texter and Eric, a college boy who’s never been laughed at a day in his life, fill her final days with the fun she thought was impossible with fake IDs and action movie-worthy escapes from her tormentors.
Callie can’t figure out why they’re helping her. But she needs allies as entering the competition means facing everything she’s run away from: her debilitating social anxiety, her still grieving family, and the bullies who want to knock her down for good. If Callie can't reclaim her life, she may end it after all.
First 250 Words:
So, as they say… goodbye, cruel world.
I can’t take it any longer. What did I do to deserve this? How could people smile when they hurt me? Guess now I’ll never know.
I’m doing this so they can't hate me anymore, and I don't have to hurt anymore.
There was nothing you could do. Dad, Hailey, please forgive me.
Don’t blame yourselves. Blame them.
I’m coming, Mom. See you soon.
Love,
Callie
***
>> No New Messages.
The fragility of the human body meant there were thousands of ways to die. The difference between life-and-death could be measured in mere inches: a knife glancing off your ribcage instead of your heart, a fall from great height onto grass instead of concrete. A poorly timed left turn across incoming traffic or catastrophic blood clot in your veins didn’t even allow you the courtesy of a warning. Mistakes as innocent as forgetting to look left again after looking right earned you a ten second spot on the nightly news if your life was noteworthy enough.
I wonder if it was due to the dissection exercises in biology class that made me choose sleeping pills as my method for suicide. A razor drawn across the soft, springy flesh of the wrists was a more guaranteed way to go. I certainly wasn’t thinking about suicide in class that day, but add in a dose of Regina Goulding and anyone would consider offing oneself as a more pleasant alternative.
QK Round 1: WEEL versus Lumanatti
Entry Nickname: WEELTitle: Who's Eating Eric Lynch?
Word count: 119K
Genre: Adult Horror
Query:
Schizophrenic Eric Lynch’s hallucinations are actually precognition. Enter a demon who absorbs supernatural powers, and Eric’s about to become demon chow—unless he can convince a group of rogue angels that his deadbeat ass is worth protecting.
It all starts the night of a failed suicide attempt. After coming face-to-face with the physical manifestation of his nightmares, a half-decomposed manticore with black fur, Eric decides the only way to stop seeing demons is by closing his eyes for good. But unfortunately for him, he can’t do anything right—not even suicide. Fast-forward seven years later, and he’s still not sure what it is about him that demons find so interesting. Being a college drop-out, working for minimum wage at a retail store, trying his best not to end up back in the asylum for a third time…it’s not like he’s next in line for winning the Nobel Prize. So why him?
Well, okay. Maybe it’s because not only can he see the future, but he can control time too. Prophet is what the angels call him. And apparently there hasn’t been a Prophet on earth for over a century. Pretty cool, huh? Wrong.
The precognition, the time manipulation—that’s exactly what makes him so appetizing. The only reason the manticore hasn’t eaten Eric yet is because it’s waiting for Eric’s powers to ripen. Which means, in the meantime, Eric’s only hope for salvation lies with a group of rogue angels. Angels who might use his Prophetic powers to fulfill their own agenda.
Angelic weapon or prime rib? Either way, Eric is pretty screwed.
First 250 words:
They say the human brain can survive for three seconds after decapitation. I’m talking full-blown cognizant thought, where you can move your mouth and blink your eyes. It makes you wonder what kind of expletives might shoot through your head, especially when you see your body lying on the floor beside you. And hopefully it’s not one of those embarrassing situations where your head goes rolling across the carpet, because then your final moments are nothing but dizziness, trying to puke from a stomach no longer attached to your mouth.
A few months ago one of my psychiatrists asked me what I think about when I have nothing else on my mind, most notably when trying to fall asleep or while taking a shower. According to her, low brain activity is a subconscious beehive ready to burst. She believed my inner musings might be to blame for my tipping sanity—at the very least my insomnia—and it was only a matter of time before I was stung by another violent impulse.
“Maybe we’ll finally figure out why you’re a total nut-job, Eric,” she had said at the end of our last meeting, and proceeded to pat me on the knee, laughing.
She was such a bi—…nice lady.
That night they found her bloody corpse sprawled across her living room floor. The reports said her body looked like it was mauled by a giant cat, her head ripped off. A week after the investigation, her husband found her missing head inside their microwave.VERSUSEntry Nickname: LumanattiTitle: LumaWord Count: 90,000Genre: YA Horror
Query:
Abbey and her best friend, Callie, had countless adventures at Majestic Isle, until an accident closed the island amusement park. When seventeen-year old Abbey hears an underground club has popped up amid the broken down roller coasters and rusty bumper cars, she drags Callie out for the night of their lives.
Unfortunately, it might be the last night of their lives.
The club isn’t the haven for misfits Abbey hoped for – it’s a buffet and the club goers are the main course.
What was once an innocent sanctuary of fun is now home to something dark and sinister.
If Abbey and Callie survive the night, they may find they are the key to stopping an infestation of creatures with an insatiable appetite for human flesh.
First 250 Words:
An ocean of bodies moved like seaweed across the warehouse floor. It might have looked as though they were drowning except for their rhythmic movement that fused with the beat. Some looked as though they’d accepted their fate as they swayed back and forth, while others seemed to fight the inevitable. Their arms flailed about, their faces contorted with exertion as they gasped for a last breath. At least that’s how it looked to the eyes watching from above.
In the center of the floor, Abbey tilted her head back and danced. She raised her arms over her head and her long, periwinkle hair drifted with her movements. Blue and green lights bounced through the smoky air, pulsing with the rhythm of the music. Bodies brushed against hers, but she didn’t mind. Here, dancing among hundreds of others, she fit in. She belonged. No one could take that away from her.
“We need to go,” Callie yelled in her ear.
A stab of irritation shot through Abbey and her eyes flew open. She missed the beat of the song, which caused a ripple in the dancers around her. Callie was upset, though only someone who’d known her since third grade would be able to pick up the telltale signs: twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger; the flush high on her cheekbones. Abbey’s irritation faded as quickly as it came. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Can we go, please?”
“Did you and Eric have another fight?” Abbey didn’t want to leave, not yet.
Word count: 119K
Genre: Adult Horror
Query:
Schizophrenic Eric Lynch’s hallucinations are actually precognition. Enter a demon who absorbs supernatural powers, and Eric’s about to become demon chow—unless he can convince a group of rogue angels that his deadbeat ass is worth protecting.
It all starts the night of a failed suicide attempt. After coming face-to-face with the physical manifestation of his nightmares, a half-decomposed manticore with black fur, Eric decides the only way to stop seeing demons is by closing his eyes for good. But unfortunately for him, he can’t do anything right—not even suicide. Fast-forward seven years later, and he’s still not sure what it is about him that demons find so interesting. Being a college drop-out, working for minimum wage at a retail store, trying his best not to end up back in the asylum for a third time…it’s not like he’s next in line for winning the Nobel Prize. So why him?
Well, okay. Maybe it’s because not only can he see the future, but he can control time too. Prophet is what the angels call him. And apparently there hasn’t been a Prophet on earth for over a century. Pretty cool, huh? Wrong.
The precognition, the time manipulation—that’s exactly what makes him so appetizing. The only reason the manticore hasn’t eaten Eric yet is because it’s waiting for Eric’s powers to ripen. Which means, in the meantime, Eric’s only hope for salvation lies with a group of rogue angels. Angels who might use his Prophetic powers to fulfill their own agenda.
Angelic weapon or prime rib? Either way, Eric is pretty screwed.
First 250 words:
They say the human brain can survive for three seconds after decapitation. I’m talking full-blown cognizant thought, where you can move your mouth and blink your eyes. It makes you wonder what kind of expletives might shoot through your head, especially when you see your body lying on the floor beside you. And hopefully it’s not one of those embarrassing situations where your head goes rolling across the carpet, because then your final moments are nothing but dizziness, trying to puke from a stomach no longer attached to your mouth.
A few months ago one of my psychiatrists asked me what I think about when I have nothing else on my mind, most notably when trying to fall asleep or while taking a shower. According to her, low brain activity is a subconscious beehive ready to burst. She believed my inner musings might be to blame for my tipping sanity—at the very least my insomnia—and it was only a matter of time before I was stung by another violent impulse.
“Maybe we’ll finally figure out why you’re a total nut-job, Eric,” she had said at the end of our last meeting, and proceeded to pat me on the knee, laughing.
She was such a bi—…nice lady.
That night they found her bloody corpse sprawled across her living room floor. The reports said her body looked like it was mauled by a giant cat, her head ripped off. A week after the investigation, her husband found her missing head inside their microwave.VERSUSEntry Nickname: LumanattiTitle: LumaWord Count: 90,000Genre: YA Horror
Query:
Abbey and her best friend, Callie, had countless adventures at Majestic Isle, until an accident closed the island amusement park. When seventeen-year old Abbey hears an underground club has popped up amid the broken down roller coasters and rusty bumper cars, she drags Callie out for the night of their lives.
Unfortunately, it might be the last night of their lives.
The club isn’t the haven for misfits Abbey hoped for – it’s a buffet and the club goers are the main course.
What was once an innocent sanctuary of fun is now home to something dark and sinister.
If Abbey and Callie survive the night, they may find they are the key to stopping an infestation of creatures with an insatiable appetite for human flesh.
First 250 Words:
An ocean of bodies moved like seaweed across the warehouse floor. It might have looked as though they were drowning except for their rhythmic movement that fused with the beat. Some looked as though they’d accepted their fate as they swayed back and forth, while others seemed to fight the inevitable. Their arms flailed about, their faces contorted with exertion as they gasped for a last breath. At least that’s how it looked to the eyes watching from above.
In the center of the floor, Abbey tilted her head back and danced. She raised her arms over her head and her long, periwinkle hair drifted with her movements. Blue and green lights bounced through the smoky air, pulsing with the rhythm of the music. Bodies brushed against hers, but she didn’t mind. Here, dancing among hundreds of others, she fit in. She belonged. No one could take that away from her.
“We need to go,” Callie yelled in her ear.
A stab of irritation shot through Abbey and her eyes flew open. She missed the beat of the song, which caused a ripple in the dancers around her. Callie was upset, though only someone who’d known her since third grade would be able to pick up the telltale signs: twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger; the flush high on her cheekbones. Abbey’s irritation faded as quickly as it came. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Can we go, please?”
“Did you and Eric have another fight?” Abbey didn’t want to leave, not yet.
QK Round 1: Skateboarding Sherlock versus Split Sister
Entry Nickname: Skateboarding SherlockTitle: SkidstersWord Count: 62,000Genre: Science Fiction
Query:
Adrenaline junkie Jedediah Tank lives for the thrill of a perfectly landed trick on his frictionless skid-board, until he crashes into the most dangerous ride of his twelve-year-old life.
Falling into an alley during an illegal race, Jed witnesses two men in purple suits threaten a physicist employed by mega-corporation, Skid Technologies. Three hours later the physicist turns up dead and Jed’s the only one holding any clues. Too bad he can’t go to the police.
Created in 2020, Skid Tech reduces friction by ninety percent, eliminating the need for gas-driven vehicles and creating a cleaner future. But it’s also illegally applied to the bottom of boards, allowing kids, codenamed skidsters, to race through the city as if it were their personal playground. Jed himself is a skidster prodigy, targeted by the cops, who'd love to hand him a one-way ticket to juvie lock-up. There’s no way the coppers will take him seriously—unless he uncovers some hard evidence.
Jed recruits his friends to investigate Skid City’s world of corporate criminals. As Jed peels back the layers of lies protecting the ruthless men in purple, he exposes a project that could level the entire city. To stop the mysterious syndicate from demolishing his city, Jed must bend the laws of physics to their breaking point or it’s—time’s up, you’re dead, Jed.
First 250 words:
In about 2.07 seconds, I was going to crash. The math didn’t lie—the acceleration of an object by the pull of gravity is 32 feet per second squared and falling at a velocity of…Nevermind. I was going to crash, plain and simple.
I glanced down at my skoard as I fell, jamming my back foot against it, praying for the magnets to catch. Please catch, c’mon. Please.
They caught. I now had milliseconds to save my neck. As I fell into the alley, the glint of an awning caught my eye. I kicked my heel back on my skoard and the sleek bottom of the board bumped the metal canopy. My skoard and I hit a railing a story below, then a dumpster, and finally the alley floor. I grabbed the dumpster’s lid and ground to a halt.
Allowing myself to release the breath I’d been holding, I shook my head. Lucky that dumpster was there. That’s the trouble with skoards. They just keep going—nearly impossible to stop. But that’s also what’s great about them.
It’s a love-hate relationship.
I double-clicked my heel on the skoard and the magnets from the bottom of my shoes and the top of my skoard separated. After that near-crash, I wanted to stay still for a second or two. Resting my hands on my knees, I took deep breaths. I could still feel the adrenaline shooting through my veins like electrical currents through a cell tower.
Calm down Jed, you ain’t dead yet.VERSUSEntry Nickname: Split SistersTitle: Rift RunnersWord Count: 91,000Genre: YA Fantasy
Query:
Everyone knows that “the other world” exists. Sixteen-year old Shasta Adler's parents often told stories of the futuristic city they once lived in, full of metal buildings and plastic packaging. But all that was taken from them when they got sucked away by the violent rift storms. Portals of sorts, the rifts stranded the Adlers in Gyra long before Shasta and her siblings were born.
But that “city of the future” Shasta heard so much about might have a cure to the illness that’s cutting a hole through her father’s chest. For months she has been on the run, searching for a way to enter the rifts safely, but all she has found is a backwater fishing village full of religious superstition about spirits who guard the rifts.
Shasta knows her father is running out of time. So when her older sister, Ali, manages to track her down, Shasta is sure Ali comes with nothing but bad news. But Ali’s not one to leave home without a plan and in her hand is a talisman with powers almost as hard to believe in as the spirits. Soon the sisters are one step away from crossing the rifts back to a place strange and dangerous to them – a city driven desperate by the rifts that tore the earth apart. A world the girls know only as “Seattle.”
The plan seems simple - get to Seattle, get the cure, get out. But Shasta never considered the lives her parents left behind. Now a violent rebel group wants her loyalty and to make matters worse, Ali disappears. With no chance of finding Ali alone, Shasta knows she's going to have to trust someone if she wants to salvage her family. But when everyone has an agenda and those that know the secrets of the rifts hold all the power, trust is a dangerous gift to give.
First 250:
Through the wall, I heard his coughing start up again. I winced, pulling my blanket closer to my chin as I listened to each ragged breath. It was like the disease was digging for something, carving a path through my father’s chest. But for what?
A door clicked open and then shut again, the coughing following the movement. Dad must have gone into the front room.
I pushed my blanket off and lit a candle. Next to me, my older sister, Ali, murmured a soft groan. Even in the candlelight, I could see Ali’s eyes were ringed with lines, her nose red from crying. I slipped my boots on, careful not to disturb her.
The kitchen smelled of Mum’s healing herbs. Comfrey and yarrow leaves dangled by the window, swaying in the spring breeze. Dad hunched close to the fire, his shoulders dwarfing the chair he sat in. Nothing in our house ever looked big enough for him.
Dad turned as I closed the door to my room, his half-smile lit by the fire. “You should be asleep.”
“And what about you?” I asked.
“Didn’t want to wake your mother. She’s got work tomorrow.” His gaze drifted to the fire, illuminating a pale, haggard face.
My heart sped. This wasn’t like him. He was one of the most ferocious men in Gyra and balt it, I loved that. My gentle giant. Another cough rattled his body and I nearly dropped the candle. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Query:
Adrenaline junkie Jedediah Tank lives for the thrill of a perfectly landed trick on his frictionless skid-board, until he crashes into the most dangerous ride of his twelve-year-old life.
Falling into an alley during an illegal race, Jed witnesses two men in purple suits threaten a physicist employed by mega-corporation, Skid Technologies. Three hours later the physicist turns up dead and Jed’s the only one holding any clues. Too bad he can’t go to the police.
Created in 2020, Skid Tech reduces friction by ninety percent, eliminating the need for gas-driven vehicles and creating a cleaner future. But it’s also illegally applied to the bottom of boards, allowing kids, codenamed skidsters, to race through the city as if it were their personal playground. Jed himself is a skidster prodigy, targeted by the cops, who'd love to hand him a one-way ticket to juvie lock-up. There’s no way the coppers will take him seriously—unless he uncovers some hard evidence.
Jed recruits his friends to investigate Skid City’s world of corporate criminals. As Jed peels back the layers of lies protecting the ruthless men in purple, he exposes a project that could level the entire city. To stop the mysterious syndicate from demolishing his city, Jed must bend the laws of physics to their breaking point or it’s—time’s up, you’re dead, Jed.
First 250 words:
In about 2.07 seconds, I was going to crash. The math didn’t lie—the acceleration of an object by the pull of gravity is 32 feet per second squared and falling at a velocity of…Nevermind. I was going to crash, plain and simple.
I glanced down at my skoard as I fell, jamming my back foot against it, praying for the magnets to catch. Please catch, c’mon. Please.
They caught. I now had milliseconds to save my neck. As I fell into the alley, the glint of an awning caught my eye. I kicked my heel back on my skoard and the sleek bottom of the board bumped the metal canopy. My skoard and I hit a railing a story below, then a dumpster, and finally the alley floor. I grabbed the dumpster’s lid and ground to a halt.
Allowing myself to release the breath I’d been holding, I shook my head. Lucky that dumpster was there. That’s the trouble with skoards. They just keep going—nearly impossible to stop. But that’s also what’s great about them.
It’s a love-hate relationship.
I double-clicked my heel on the skoard and the magnets from the bottom of my shoes and the top of my skoard separated. After that near-crash, I wanted to stay still for a second or two. Resting my hands on my knees, I took deep breaths. I could still feel the adrenaline shooting through my veins like electrical currents through a cell tower.
Calm down Jed, you ain’t dead yet.VERSUSEntry Nickname: Split SistersTitle: Rift RunnersWord Count: 91,000Genre: YA Fantasy
Query:
Everyone knows that “the other world” exists. Sixteen-year old Shasta Adler's parents often told stories of the futuristic city they once lived in, full of metal buildings and plastic packaging. But all that was taken from them when they got sucked away by the violent rift storms. Portals of sorts, the rifts stranded the Adlers in Gyra long before Shasta and her siblings were born.
But that “city of the future” Shasta heard so much about might have a cure to the illness that’s cutting a hole through her father’s chest. For months she has been on the run, searching for a way to enter the rifts safely, but all she has found is a backwater fishing village full of religious superstition about spirits who guard the rifts.
Shasta knows her father is running out of time. So when her older sister, Ali, manages to track her down, Shasta is sure Ali comes with nothing but bad news. But Ali’s not one to leave home without a plan and in her hand is a talisman with powers almost as hard to believe in as the spirits. Soon the sisters are one step away from crossing the rifts back to a place strange and dangerous to them – a city driven desperate by the rifts that tore the earth apart. A world the girls know only as “Seattle.”
The plan seems simple - get to Seattle, get the cure, get out. But Shasta never considered the lives her parents left behind. Now a violent rebel group wants her loyalty and to make matters worse, Ali disappears. With no chance of finding Ali alone, Shasta knows she's going to have to trust someone if she wants to salvage her family. But when everyone has an agenda and those that know the secrets of the rifts hold all the power, trust is a dangerous gift to give.
First 250:
Through the wall, I heard his coughing start up again. I winced, pulling my blanket closer to my chin as I listened to each ragged breath. It was like the disease was digging for something, carving a path through my father’s chest. But for what?
A door clicked open and then shut again, the coughing following the movement. Dad must have gone into the front room.
I pushed my blanket off and lit a candle. Next to me, my older sister, Ali, murmured a soft groan. Even in the candlelight, I could see Ali’s eyes were ringed with lines, her nose red from crying. I slipped my boots on, careful not to disturb her.
The kitchen smelled of Mum’s healing herbs. Comfrey and yarrow leaves dangled by the window, swaying in the spring breeze. Dad hunched close to the fire, his shoulders dwarfing the chair he sat in. Nothing in our house ever looked big enough for him.
Dad turned as I closed the door to my room, his half-smile lit by the fire. “You should be asleep.”
“And what about you?” I asked.
“Didn’t want to wake your mother. She’s got work tomorrow.” His gaze drifted to the fire, illuminating a pale, haggard face.
My heart sped. This wasn’t like him. He was one of the most ferocious men in Gyra and balt it, I loved that. My gentle giant. Another cough rattled his body and I nearly dropped the candle. “Can I get you something to drink?”
May 30, 2014
Query Kombat Kombatants 2014
The time is finally here! Time to release the Kombatants onto the unsuspecting public!
The choice was hard. Each of the hosts agonized, weighing this query against that 250. There were so many great entries. Of course, making it into a contest is no indication of the quality of your query. Many people who don't make it into contests find agents the tried-and-true way, by querying. (Ahem, me.) Thanks to everyone who entered and everyone who made the Twitter party so fun!
To those who didn't make it into the tournament, you donned your armor and dared to dreamed of victory. You boldly walked into an arena filled with 230 gladiators, and you didn't so much as flinch or break a sweat. There are none braver than those who try, fail, and try again. I'm begging you to be brave, because all you need is talent and drive. Luck and success will follow. Don't give up. Don't doubt yourself. And...if you do, tweet me. I'll find an army to come and lift your spirits if I have to.
You will succeed. All you have to do is believe in yourself.
To those who made it--CONGRATULATIONS! Out of 230 entries, you made it into the top 64. You bit, you clawed, you bled, and you MADE IT! I want you to take to Twitter, Facebook, Blogger, Wikipedia, Dictionary.com...I don't care. Celebrate! And do it loud. And in the midst of your celebration, I want you to help me lift the spirits of those who didn't make it. Use the QueryKombat hashtag to connect with and celebrate your fellow slushies. Tweet your sagest query advice, or that quote that kept you going when you were down and out, or your grandmother's secret tapioca pudding recipe ('cause everyone love tapioca!). We're more than a community; we're a family. So spread the love.
We don't have any fancy brackets to showcase the match-ups. In fact, the match-ups for Sunday aren't really finished yet. Kombatants must wait for Sunday to find out who they will face. Just another surprise in the list of surprises.
(Yes, we have surprises up our sleeves having to do with the agents! And we have more surprises for the agent round itself! That's three surprises, if you're keeping count.)
Now for my picks for the contest. To see Mike's and SC's picks, check out their blogs. Kombatants don't miss the rules on judging and commenting included at the bottom of this post.
Adult:
His Little HumanShe Wears Bruises Like TrophiesReality StarRemember MeE=MC squaredLeave It to FateAttempting Average
Young Adult:
A Few Quick HellosMaidens, Monks, & MurderBingBamBoom
I Babysit My MomLowlife ExtraordinaireMini MutantsSunnySide Up
New Adult:
Have Sword Will Travel#Droolworthy Landry
Middle Grade:
Trailer TrapStar Light, Star BrightGirl Destroys WorldOne Spotted GirlPatience Fell
Important Information for Kombatants:
The first round will start on Sunday, June 1st on all three blogs. We will try to post all the match-ups by 8:00 am EST, but please don’t rush to comment for reasons we will spell out under the judging section.
There will be 64 Kombatants (including four automatic Free Pass winners) and these will be paired into 32 posts for the first round. Yes, we will try to match age categories and genres together. This will totally depend on numbers. As you can imagine, we received a much lesser number of NA entries and a much greater number of YA entries. We’ll do the best we can to make the match-ups fair, but we are not limiting our Kombatant picks by requiring so many numbers of each age group. We are picking what we think are the best entries.
In the event a Kombatant has to drop out of Query Kombat there will be two possibilities. If they drop out before the first round begins, they will be replaced with an alternate Kombatant contestant chosen by Mike. (Alternate Kombatants will not be announced beforehand. We don’t want people hoping someone drops out. We may announce them after the contest ends.) If a Kombatant drops out after the contest has started, their opponent automatically advances to the next round. Any Kombatant that receives an offer of representation will please notify us so we may withdraw them. Receiving a full request or partial is not grounds for withdrawal.
Judging:
Our fantastic judges will give their votes under their assumed nicknames in order to be able to vote honestly and freely. Go here to see the nicknames they have chosen. The voting for the first round will take place from June 1st until June 4rd at 8:00 pm EST. (For more information on the dates of the other rounds go here.) The winners of the first round will be announced on June 4th.
Judges will vote as follows: VICTORY to Kombatant nickname Then they may give more information as to why they voted that way. How much feedback they give is completely up to that judge. There are a lot of entries to read and a lot of rounds to go through. This is a long contest. But we’re sure the judges will do a fantastic job of sharing their thoughts.
To prevent favoritism, the judges have agreed not to vote on match-ups where they are close friends to a Kombatant or where they have beta read or critique partnered. Due to the length of this contest, judges have been assigned to rounds and may decide not to vote in all the rounds.
In the event of a matchup vote tie, we'll call for more judges, then the round host will cast the tie-breaker vote if necessary.
Now here comes the unique and important part! We would like the judges’ votes to be easily located. Therefore, we are asking the judges to place their votes as a reply to the first comment in each match-up post. As soon as all the match-up posts are live, the round host will go through and made a first comment. Something like: This comment is reserved for judges’ votes. Please do not reply to this comment unless you are a judge. Then the judges can do their thing and leave their votes as replies to that comment.
BUT in order for this to work, people cannot rush to comment. The hosts have to have time to get the first comment up on all 10 or 11 posts of the first round and subsequent rounds. No matter how excited you are to share your feedback, please give the host time to get the first comment done before you comment. Any other first comments but the hosts’ will be deleted.
We understand that everyone is human and votes may not end up in the proper spot. All judges’ votes will count no matter where they end up.
Commenting:
Due to the nature of the head-to-head competition, commenting is a delicate subject. We don’t want feelings hurt. We don’t want people to go away angry. 32 people will be knocked out in the first round. That is brutal. And like any contest of this nature, the results will be subjective. Wonderful entries will be eliminated. Because not everyone will be seen by an agent, we do want to allow commenting as that may be the only feedback a query and first 250 entry will get.
Therefore, especially in the first round, we want a ton of comments. And we want those comments to be super constructive and helpful. In other words, be specific. Don’t just rave about a Kombatant’s entry like a fangirl/guy. Tell us why you liked it. Mention things like the query set out the mc’s motivation and stakes clearly, the query had a super voice, the query was confusing because…, the pages really showed the mc’s personality because…, the page felt flat because…, the concept was unique because…
Please no cheerleading comments in the first round or second round. (Friendly cheerleading will be allowed in the final rounds.) In the early rounds, if you want to cheer on your friends and CPs, do it on twitter. Try and give equal time to both Kombatants in a match-up. Don’t let someone be left out. If you see a match-up that isn’t getting many comments, we ask that you jump in and do your stuff.
We don’t want this contest to only be about fun and agents. We want all the entries to get helpful advice to make their queries and page stronger. Please remember this and be kind and thoughtful. Writers are amazing people. They go out of their way to help. We are sure we can count on you.
Enough preaching. Here are some more commenting rules:
We would like each Kombatant to give feedback on at least 6 match-ups. You’re on your honor system here, we won’t be monitoring this. We’ve got enough to do. (lol!) We’d also like each person who entered Query Kombat to leave at least one comment on a match-up, but feel free to do many more! And please we ask that Kombatants who are eliminated, come back and leave comments on the next round. We still want to hear what you think. We need you to make this contest a success!
Kombatants, please don’t comment on your own entry, whether that is to thank people or to explain/rationalize your entry. There will be so many comments that we ask you to wait until the last day of voting to offer thanks or congratulate someone, or leave any other type of comment on your own entry. If you want to thank people before the last day of voting, twitter is the place.
We are counting on there being no hard feeling comments. If there are, they will be deleted. We warned you’ll need a thick skin and it’s true. But we believe this can be done in a friendly manner.
Getting knocked out of the contest or not getting picked is no indication of a story’s quality. After all, we only have snapshots to go upon. All the hosts are very excited for Query Kombat to start, and we hope you are too. Feel free to leave us questions in the comments or just shout out your excitement. Follow us on twitter for more updates.
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The choice was hard. Each of the hosts agonized, weighing this query against that 250. There were so many great entries. Of course, making it into a contest is no indication of the quality of your query. Many people who don't make it into contests find agents the tried-and-true way, by querying. (Ahem, me.) Thanks to everyone who entered and everyone who made the Twitter party so fun!
To those who didn't make it into the tournament, you donned your armor and dared to dreamed of victory. You boldly walked into an arena filled with 230 gladiators, and you didn't so much as flinch or break a sweat. There are none braver than those who try, fail, and try again. I'm begging you to be brave, because all you need is talent and drive. Luck and success will follow. Don't give up. Don't doubt yourself. And...if you do, tweet me. I'll find an army to come and lift your spirits if I have to.
You will succeed. All you have to do is believe in yourself.
To those who made it--CONGRATULATIONS! Out of 230 entries, you made it into the top 64. You bit, you clawed, you bled, and you MADE IT! I want you to take to Twitter, Facebook, Blogger, Wikipedia, Dictionary.com...I don't care. Celebrate! And do it loud. And in the midst of your celebration, I want you to help me lift the spirits of those who didn't make it. Use the QueryKombat hashtag to connect with and celebrate your fellow slushies. Tweet your sagest query advice, or that quote that kept you going when you were down and out, or your grandmother's secret tapioca pudding recipe ('cause everyone love tapioca!). We're more than a community; we're a family. So spread the love.
We don't have any fancy brackets to showcase the match-ups. In fact, the match-ups for Sunday aren't really finished yet. Kombatants must wait for Sunday to find out who they will face. Just another surprise in the list of surprises.
(Yes, we have surprises up our sleeves having to do with the agents! And we have more surprises for the agent round itself! That's three surprises, if you're keeping count.)
Now for my picks for the contest. To see Mike's and SC's picks, check out their blogs. Kombatants don't miss the rules on judging and commenting included at the bottom of this post.
Adult:
His Little HumanShe Wears Bruises Like TrophiesReality StarRemember MeE=MC squaredLeave It to FateAttempting Average
Young Adult:
A Few Quick HellosMaidens, Monks, & MurderBingBamBoom
I Babysit My MomLowlife ExtraordinaireMini MutantsSunnySide Up
New Adult:
Have Sword Will Travel#Droolworthy Landry
Middle Grade:
Trailer TrapStar Light, Star BrightGirl Destroys WorldOne Spotted GirlPatience Fell
Important Information for Kombatants:
The first round will start on Sunday, June 1st on all three blogs. We will try to post all the match-ups by 8:00 am EST, but please don’t rush to comment for reasons we will spell out under the judging section.
There will be 64 Kombatants (including four automatic Free Pass winners) and these will be paired into 32 posts for the first round. Yes, we will try to match age categories and genres together. This will totally depend on numbers. As you can imagine, we received a much lesser number of NA entries and a much greater number of YA entries. We’ll do the best we can to make the match-ups fair, but we are not limiting our Kombatant picks by requiring so many numbers of each age group. We are picking what we think are the best entries.
In the event a Kombatant has to drop out of Query Kombat there will be two possibilities. If they drop out before the first round begins, they will be replaced with an alternate Kombatant contestant chosen by Mike. (Alternate Kombatants will not be announced beforehand. We don’t want people hoping someone drops out. We may announce them after the contest ends.) If a Kombatant drops out after the contest has started, their opponent automatically advances to the next round. Any Kombatant that receives an offer of representation will please notify us so we may withdraw them. Receiving a full request or partial is not grounds for withdrawal.
Judging:
Our fantastic judges will give their votes under their assumed nicknames in order to be able to vote honestly and freely. Go here to see the nicknames they have chosen. The voting for the first round will take place from June 1st until June 4rd at 8:00 pm EST. (For more information on the dates of the other rounds go here.) The winners of the first round will be announced on June 4th.
Judges will vote as follows: VICTORY to Kombatant nickname Then they may give more information as to why they voted that way. How much feedback they give is completely up to that judge. There are a lot of entries to read and a lot of rounds to go through. This is a long contest. But we’re sure the judges will do a fantastic job of sharing their thoughts.
To prevent favoritism, the judges have agreed not to vote on match-ups where they are close friends to a Kombatant or where they have beta read or critique partnered. Due to the length of this contest, judges have been assigned to rounds and may decide not to vote in all the rounds.
In the event of a matchup vote tie, we'll call for more judges, then the round host will cast the tie-breaker vote if necessary.
Now here comes the unique and important part! We would like the judges’ votes to be easily located. Therefore, we are asking the judges to place their votes as a reply to the first comment in each match-up post. As soon as all the match-up posts are live, the round host will go through and made a first comment. Something like: This comment is reserved for judges’ votes. Please do not reply to this comment unless you are a judge. Then the judges can do their thing and leave their votes as replies to that comment.
BUT in order for this to work, people cannot rush to comment. The hosts have to have time to get the first comment up on all 10 or 11 posts of the first round and subsequent rounds. No matter how excited you are to share your feedback, please give the host time to get the first comment done before you comment. Any other first comments but the hosts’ will be deleted.
We understand that everyone is human and votes may not end up in the proper spot. All judges’ votes will count no matter where they end up.
Commenting:
Due to the nature of the head-to-head competition, commenting is a delicate subject. We don’t want feelings hurt. We don’t want people to go away angry. 32 people will be knocked out in the first round. That is brutal. And like any contest of this nature, the results will be subjective. Wonderful entries will be eliminated. Because not everyone will be seen by an agent, we do want to allow commenting as that may be the only feedback a query and first 250 entry will get.
Therefore, especially in the first round, we want a ton of comments. And we want those comments to be super constructive and helpful. In other words, be specific. Don’t just rave about a Kombatant’s entry like a fangirl/guy. Tell us why you liked it. Mention things like the query set out the mc’s motivation and stakes clearly, the query had a super voice, the query was confusing because…, the pages really showed the mc’s personality because…, the page felt flat because…, the concept was unique because…
Please no cheerleading comments in the first round or second round. (Friendly cheerleading will be allowed in the final rounds.) In the early rounds, if you want to cheer on your friends and CPs, do it on twitter. Try and give equal time to both Kombatants in a match-up. Don’t let someone be left out. If you see a match-up that isn’t getting many comments, we ask that you jump in and do your stuff.
We don’t want this contest to only be about fun and agents. We want all the entries to get helpful advice to make their queries and page stronger. Please remember this and be kind and thoughtful. Writers are amazing people. They go out of their way to help. We are sure we can count on you.
Enough preaching. Here are some more commenting rules:
We would like each Kombatant to give feedback on at least 6 match-ups. You’re on your honor system here, we won’t be monitoring this. We’ve got enough to do. (lol!) We’d also like each person who entered Query Kombat to leave at least one comment on a match-up, but feel free to do many more! And please we ask that Kombatants who are eliminated, come back and leave comments on the next round. We still want to hear what you think. We need you to make this contest a success!
Kombatants, please don’t comment on your own entry, whether that is to thank people or to explain/rationalize your entry. There will be so many comments that we ask you to wait until the last day of voting to offer thanks or congratulate someone, or leave any other type of comment on your own entry. If you want to thank people before the last day of voting, twitter is the place.
We are counting on there being no hard feeling comments. If there are, they will be deleted. We warned you’ll need a thick skin and it’s true. But we believe this can be done in a friendly manner.
Getting knocked out of the contest or not getting picked is no indication of a story’s quality. After all, we only have snapshots to go upon. All the hosts are very excited for Query Kombat to start, and we hope you are too. Feel free to leave us questions in the comments or just shout out your excitement. Follow us on twitter for more updates.
May 29, 2014
Release Day for The Book of Bart
More proof that contests can make a difference and that there are many routes to publication! Congrats, Ryan!
Only one thing is so powerful, so dangerous that Heaven and Hell must work together to find it: the Shard of Gabriel.
With a mysterious Black Cloud of Death hot on the shard’s trail, a desperate Heaven enlists the help of Bart, a demon who knows more about the shard than almost anyone. Six years ago, he had it in his hands. If only he’d used it before his coup to overthrow the devil failed. Now, he’s been sprung from his eternal punishment to help Samantha, an angel in training, recover the shard before the Black Cloud of Death finds it.
If Bartholomew wants to succeed, he’ll have to fight the temptation to betray Samantha and the allure of the shard. After an existence full of evil, the only way Bart can get right with Hell is to be good.
How it all came to be:
Everybody’s path to getting published is different. After writing non-stop for a few years, I began to get a little frustrated. People liked what I wrote, but not enough to take it on as a project. But I kept moving forward, and it landed me a deal for my first novel, THE BOOK OF BART. I remember entering BART in several online contests, like Pitch Madness and Baker’s Dozen. On almost all of them, the book would either make it to, or barely miss, the final round. I also queried every agent I found who I thought would be interested. Most everyone who read the book really enjoyed it, but it just couldn’t get over the hump. Everything started to feel a little like BART would always just be a bridesmaid.
On a whim, I entered the PitchMAS in July contest. I received some interest from Alison Heller, who worked with Curiosity Quills. She read BART, and liked it, but had a few notes. I took those notes, made the requested changes, and voila! Curiosity Quills offered me a contract to publish THE BOOK OF BART.
Curiosity Quills has been fantastic to work with. They even agreed to publish another novel I’d written, a zombie book called DEAD NEW WORLD. Things have been moving along smoothly with Curiosity Quills, as I help promote BART, edit DEAD NEW WORLD, and put the finishing touches on another novel before submitting it. And in case you’re wondering, yes. Seeing your book published feels every bit as good as you’d imagine.
Website: ryanhillwrites.comTwitter: @J_RyanFacebook: facebook.com/ryanhillwritesGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21838987-the-book-of-bartAmazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Book-Bart-Ryan-Hill-ebook/dp/B00KH7ZUD8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1401033118&sr=8-1&keywords=the+book+of+bart
Only one thing is so powerful, so dangerous that Heaven and Hell must work together to find it: the Shard of Gabriel.
With a mysterious Black Cloud of Death hot on the shard’s trail, a desperate Heaven enlists the help of Bart, a demon who knows more about the shard than almost anyone. Six years ago, he had it in his hands. If only he’d used it before his coup to overthrow the devil failed. Now, he’s been sprung from his eternal punishment to help Samantha, an angel in training, recover the shard before the Black Cloud of Death finds it.
If Bartholomew wants to succeed, he’ll have to fight the temptation to betray Samantha and the allure of the shard. After an existence full of evil, the only way Bart can get right with Hell is to be good.
How it all came to be:
Everybody’s path to getting published is different. After writing non-stop for a few years, I began to get a little frustrated. People liked what I wrote, but not enough to take it on as a project. But I kept moving forward, and it landed me a deal for my first novel, THE BOOK OF BART. I remember entering BART in several online contests, like Pitch Madness and Baker’s Dozen. On almost all of them, the book would either make it to, or barely miss, the final round. I also queried every agent I found who I thought would be interested. Most everyone who read the book really enjoyed it, but it just couldn’t get over the hump. Everything started to feel a little like BART would always just be a bridesmaid.
On a whim, I entered the PitchMAS in July contest. I received some interest from Alison Heller, who worked with Curiosity Quills. She read BART, and liked it, but had a few notes. I took those notes, made the requested changes, and voila! Curiosity Quills offered me a contract to publish THE BOOK OF BART.
Curiosity Quills has been fantastic to work with. They even agreed to publish another novel I’d written, a zombie book called DEAD NEW WORLD. Things have been moving along smoothly with Curiosity Quills, as I help promote BART, edit DEAD NEW WORLD, and put the finishing touches on another novel before submitting it. And in case you’re wondering, yes. Seeing your book published feels every bit as good as you’d imagine.
Website: ryanhillwrites.comTwitter: @J_RyanFacebook: facebook.com/ryanhillwritesGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21838987-the-book-of-bartAmazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Book-Bart-Ryan-Hill-ebook/dp/B00KH7ZUD8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1401033118&sr=8-1&keywords=the+book+of+bart
May 28, 2014
Getting the Call: Dan Koboldt
Querying is a difficult process. You never know what the day will bring. Dan Koboldt found out how necessary it is to be prepared and that got him a great agent! Now he's going a step farther by taking his love of speculative fiction and helping others.
Dan is hosting a twitter pitch party for those who write fantasy or science fiction on June 11th. Here are all the details. You know I'll be there to retweet for my fellow speculative fiction writers.
Thank you, Michelle, for inviting me to share my story about finding representation. Most authors make (at least) one classic mistake when querying agents. I thought that if I studied the process intensely, I'd avoid every single pitfall. I was wrong.
Last October I was revising my NaNoWriMo novel from 2012. It was about a large corporation that had discovered a portal to a pristine medieval world. This wasn't my first attempt at a novel -- it was my third or fourth, actually -- but it was clearly my best. Good enough, perhaps, that I could send it some agents.
I began studying the query process, and I found it enthralling. A one-page letter to pitch your book didn't sound so onerous. It actually sounded kind of fun. And though my book wasn't quite finished, I thought, what the hell, I'm going to send a few out. Everything I'd read suggested that querying usually takes a long time, 1-2 months, so I'd easily be able to finish writing it. And that was my blunder.
I queried too soon. It would be another couple of months (December) until my manuscript was done, and truly ready, for an agent to see it. I squeezed some queries in before deluge that all agencies see right after January 1st. Then I promised myself I wouldn't query in January, because Anne Mini says that you really shouldn't.
Right as I was gearing up for some serious querying, I got a partial request from Jennie Goloboy of Red Sofa Literary Agency. She'd read my letter and wanted to see three chapters, which I sent right away. Within a couple of hours, she wrote again: "I read the first chapter. You wowed me! Please send the full."
This time, I was prepared. I had the full manuscript polished and ready to go. I had a separate document, a secret weapon of sorts, that I sent along with it. I sent it to her and tried not to dwell on it too much. I began sending out other queries, too. Another agent requested the full.
Then something interesting happened: the agent said she'd finished my book and enjoyed it. Since it was clearly meant to be part of a series, had I written anything down for the other books? I sent my series synopsis (3 books). Five days later, she wrote and said she'd like to set up a phone call.
Importantly, this wasn't an offer. At Red Sofa Literary, the first call is an interview. It gives the agent and the author a chance to get to know one another better. And it lets the agent ensure that the author is not a crazy person, which is quite possible. These things can be hard to do over e-mail.
We talked for about 40 minutes, and it went well. I had a number of questions I wanted to ask, but I tried to let her drive the conversation. The things she said about my book had me feeling very warm and fuzzy. Yet this was still not an offer of representation. She wanted to see a few revisions. Another test, if you will. I liked her suggestions, and agreed to do all of them. I had them back to her within a day or two. She replied with a note that she'd get back to me soon.
That note was the last thing I'd hear for weeks. I knew these things take time. I knew I should be patient. But waiting is hard, particularly when you feel like you're close. It seemed disingenuous to send out more queries, so I kept busy in other ways. I made some new author friends. I entered a different novel, my YA fantasy, into the fantastic #PitchMadness pitching contest.
Finally, 3 weeks and 1 day after the R&R, the good news came. Jennie wrote to make an offer of representation, and I was thrilled! It was a Friday afternoon. That weekend there was much celebration at the Koboldt household.
If Michelle put a gun to my head and demanded that I offer some advice to other authors (which she did not; she's far too nice), I'd make two suggestions. Do your research. Study the query process, the do's and don'ts, and the agents that you want to query. You should know their history, the kind of books they like, their recent sales, how long they've been at the agency, etc. Be professional. It's not easy to handle the waiting and the rejection that comes with querying. But maintaining a professional face, in your e-mails, on your blog, and on social media, can only help demonstrate that you're the kind of person an agent would like to represent.
Keep at it, my aspiring author friends. The next "Getting the Call" post on Michelle's blog could easily be yours!
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Dan Koboldt has worked as a genetics researcher for over ten years. He writes fantasy and science fiction, and is represented by Jennie Goloboy of Red Sofa Literary Agency. He's also an avid hunter and outdoorsman. Every fall, he disappears into Missouri’s dense hardwood forests to pursue whitetail deer and turkey with bow and arrow. He lives with his wife and three children in St. Louis, where the deer take their revenge by eating all of the landscaping in his backyard.
He will host #SFFpit, a Twitter pitching event for authors of science fiction and fantasy, on June 11th. You can find him on Twitter as @DanKoboldt or at his website, http://dankoboldt.com.
Dan is hosting a twitter pitch party for those who write fantasy or science fiction on June 11th. Here are all the details. You know I'll be there to retweet for my fellow speculative fiction writers.
Thank you, Michelle, for inviting me to share my story about finding representation. Most authors make (at least) one classic mistake when querying agents. I thought that if I studied the process intensely, I'd avoid every single pitfall. I was wrong.
Last October I was revising my NaNoWriMo novel from 2012. It was about a large corporation that had discovered a portal to a pristine medieval world. This wasn't my first attempt at a novel -- it was my third or fourth, actually -- but it was clearly my best. Good enough, perhaps, that I could send it some agents.
I began studying the query process, and I found it enthralling. A one-page letter to pitch your book didn't sound so onerous. It actually sounded kind of fun. And though my book wasn't quite finished, I thought, what the hell, I'm going to send a few out. Everything I'd read suggested that querying usually takes a long time, 1-2 months, so I'd easily be able to finish writing it. And that was my blunder.
I queried too soon. It would be another couple of months (December) until my manuscript was done, and truly ready, for an agent to see it. I squeezed some queries in before deluge that all agencies see right after January 1st. Then I promised myself I wouldn't query in January, because Anne Mini says that you really shouldn't.
Right as I was gearing up for some serious querying, I got a partial request from Jennie Goloboy of Red Sofa Literary Agency. She'd read my letter and wanted to see three chapters, which I sent right away. Within a couple of hours, she wrote again: "I read the first chapter. You wowed me! Please send the full."
This time, I was prepared. I had the full manuscript polished and ready to go. I had a separate document, a secret weapon of sorts, that I sent along with it. I sent it to her and tried not to dwell on it too much. I began sending out other queries, too. Another agent requested the full.
Then something interesting happened: the agent said she'd finished my book and enjoyed it. Since it was clearly meant to be part of a series, had I written anything down for the other books? I sent my series synopsis (3 books). Five days later, she wrote and said she'd like to set up a phone call.
Importantly, this wasn't an offer. At Red Sofa Literary, the first call is an interview. It gives the agent and the author a chance to get to know one another better. And it lets the agent ensure that the author is not a crazy person, which is quite possible. These things can be hard to do over e-mail.
We talked for about 40 minutes, and it went well. I had a number of questions I wanted to ask, but I tried to let her drive the conversation. The things she said about my book had me feeling very warm and fuzzy. Yet this was still not an offer of representation. She wanted to see a few revisions. Another test, if you will. I liked her suggestions, and agreed to do all of them. I had them back to her within a day or two. She replied with a note that she'd get back to me soon.
That note was the last thing I'd hear for weeks. I knew these things take time. I knew I should be patient. But waiting is hard, particularly when you feel like you're close. It seemed disingenuous to send out more queries, so I kept busy in other ways. I made some new author friends. I entered a different novel, my YA fantasy, into the fantastic #PitchMadness pitching contest.
Finally, 3 weeks and 1 day after the R&R, the good news came. Jennie wrote to make an offer of representation, and I was thrilled! It was a Friday afternoon. That weekend there was much celebration at the Koboldt household.
If Michelle put a gun to my head and demanded that I offer some advice to other authors (which she did not; she's far too nice), I'd make two suggestions. Do your research. Study the query process, the do's and don'ts, and the agents that you want to query. You should know their history, the kind of books they like, their recent sales, how long they've been at the agency, etc. Be professional. It's not easy to handle the waiting and the rejection that comes with querying. But maintaining a professional face, in your e-mails, on your blog, and on social media, can only help demonstrate that you're the kind of person an agent would like to represent.
Keep at it, my aspiring author friends. The next "Getting the Call" post on Michelle's blog could easily be yours!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dan Koboldt has worked as a genetics researcher for over ten years. He writes fantasy and science fiction, and is represented by Jennie Goloboy of Red Sofa Literary Agency. He's also an avid hunter and outdoorsman. Every fall, he disappears into Missouri’s dense hardwood forests to pursue whitetail deer and turkey with bow and arrow. He lives with his wife and three children in St. Louis, where the deer take their revenge by eating all of the landscaping in his backyard.
He will host #SFFpit, a Twitter pitching event for authors of science fiction and fantasy, on June 11th. You can find him on Twitter as @DanKoboldt or at his website, http://dankoboldt.com.
