Michelle Hauck's Blog, page 108
May 3, 2014
Sneak Peaks in My Newsletter
Query Kombat is coming soon! I likely won't have a mini-contest in May because of that, but ...
Want a chance to see the Query Kombat '14 agents (and there are 10 so far) early? Get signed up for my newsletter!
What this newsletter would be is a way to get early notice of any contests I might have up my sleeve or any writing news that springs at me like a tiger from the bushes. It will be a heads up that something interesting is going to happen. For example: I might notify you of the release of my newest short story or send you an advance preview of the agents for Query Kombat. (Submission is May 22nd.)
What this newsletter will not be is a weekly or even a monthly thing to clutter your inbox. I plan to only use it sparingly. Nor will the information I collect be used for any other purpose. (Disclaimer Disclaimer Legalese terms here)
All you have to do is fill out the information in the right sidebar. Which means your name and email address, along with any message you want to leave me.
To unsubscribe, leave that message in the same contact widget and I'll take you off the list. Or shout at me on twitter or anywhere else.
Published/agented writers, if you're interested in being a judge for Query Kombat check out this post.
Want a chance to see the Query Kombat '14 agents (and there are 10 so far) early? Get signed up for my newsletter!
What this newsletter would be is a way to get early notice of any contests I might have up my sleeve or any writing news that springs at me like a tiger from the bushes. It will be a heads up that something interesting is going to happen. For example: I might notify you of the release of my newest short story or send you an advance preview of the agents for Query Kombat. (Submission is May 22nd.)
What this newsletter will not be is a weekly or even a monthly thing to clutter your inbox. I plan to only use it sparingly. Nor will the information I collect be used for any other purpose. (Disclaimer Disclaimer Legalese terms here)
All you have to do is fill out the information in the right sidebar. Which means your name and email address, along with any message you want to leave me.
To unsubscribe, leave that message in the same contact widget and I'll take you off the list. Or shout at me on twitter or anywhere else.
Published/agented writers, if you're interested in being a judge for Query Kombat check out this post.
May 2, 2014
Getting the Call with Amy DeLuca
I'm super excited to share this success story! This comes directly from Sun versus Snow in February! Amy DeLuca and her fantastic Four Bullets was one of my picks in this contest! And boy did her YA Mystery draw a ton of attention! (See it here.) Congrats, Amy! I'm so happy for you!
Thank you, Michelle and Amy for inviting me to tell my story, and thank you for so much more than that! Without your Sun vs. Snow contest, I might never have met my wonderful agent.
My agent story is sort of a “when it rains it pours” tale. But before there was a drop, there was a drought. I’d been seeking publication for about two years, starting with my first ms, HIDDEN DEEP, a YA paranormal romance. It got some good feedback, earned some RWA chapter contest finals, one win, and even a 2013 Golden Heart final. But no agent. I did get full requests but was told repeatedly that, while the writing was good and the premise was original, the market was saturated with YA paranormals-- they weren’t convinced they could sell it. I also suspect now that because it was my first ms, the story could have been stronger. I still love that book and have hope of it selling someday (after revisions of course), but taking the advice of wise writers who’d gone before me, I moved on. Everything you’ve heard about how important it is to write the next thing is absolutely true.I completed FOUR BULLETS, a YA romantic mystery inspired by a murder trial I covered years ago as a news anchor/reporter in Mississippi. After running it by my critique partner and a couple of beta readers, I sent out a few queries to agents who’d encouraged me in their rejections of my first book to send them my next project. At about the same time, I found Michelle’s blog and learned of the Sun Vs. Snow contest via Twitter. There was so much excitement surrounding it! It was thrilling to learn my ms had been selected for the agent round, and I had a ball reading the other entries and meeting the other finalists on Twitter.When the day came for the agent round—I won’t lie—I started checking the blog at about 8 a.m. and kept checking back in all day. It was so exciting to see the agent requests for partials accumulate. In the end, I had nine requests. Nine chances to find the agent who might be the one for me! I sent the requested material right away, and over the next few weeks (and even months), some of the partials led to full requests. One of those was from Talcott Notch Literary.As I waited for responses from the contest requests and the queries I’d sent, I kept writing. A lot, in fact. I’d gotten really fired up about writing a contemporary New Adult series set the world I used to inhabit before I became a full-time writer—television news. I had completed two novels in that series by the end of March this year when the 2014 Golden Heart finalists were announced. I was absolutely thrilled on announcement day to learn FOUR BULLETS was a finalist in the YA category!About five minutes after learning of my final, I got an email from an assistant at Talcott Notch, who congratulated me and told me FOUR BULLETS was moving to the top of their TBR pile. I also had new requests from a couple of other agents that day. It was a fun day! After all the waiting, I had a feeling the time might be right for me.A week or two later, I got an awesome email from Rachael Dugas at Talcott Notch. I have many agented writer friends, but I never realized that an agent would tell you flat out in an email that they were offering rep—BUT SHE DID! She said she’d like to talk to me the next day to answer my questions and share her thoughts on my story. When we spoke, it was everything you always hope THE CALL will be—she told me how much she loved my story and why, what her plans were for submission (squee!), and her ideas on how to strengthen the story. I loved her personality and especially the things she’d noticed about the story that could use more development—it really rang true to me. Of course I really loved that she loves my book!At that time, I still had six fulls out with agents, some of whom had specifically asked me to notify them if I received an offer. I did that, celebrated on the down-low with some close friends, and waited the week out to give them a chance to read the full. In the end it was Rachael’s connection to and understanding of my story, as well as her attitude toward my writing career as a whole that convinced me she was the right agent for me. I’m looking forward to her revision notes on FOUR BULLETS and to going out on submission with that book soon.In the meantime, I have no time at all to be nervous. I’m writing every day and working hard toward reaching another exciting goal – self-publishing (under a different pen name, AMY PATRICK) my New Adult romance series CHANNEL TWENTYSOMETHING. The books are scheduled for a Summer 2014 release!Some things I’ve learned so far on my journey:-It happens when the time is right. If I’d gotten THE CALL when I started querying my first book, and the agent asked very normal questions like “how many books do you think you can write a year?” or “how long does it take you to complete a book?” my answer would have been, “I don’t know.” YIKES! I didn’t know until I wrote FOUR BULLETS if I could even write another book—maybe the first time had been a fluke? Now I know myself much better as a writer, and I know what I can expect from myself and what I want out of a career.-I learned just how valuable pitch and query contests (like the ones you’ll find on michelle4laughs.blogspot.com and http://chasingthecrazies.wordpress.com) can be for writers. I got helpful query feedback, I’ve remained in touch with quite a few writers I met through Sun Vs. Snow—and I’m thrilled to see how many of them now have agents and even publication dates!-Writers are the nicest people on earth. I would be exactly nowhere without the friends I’ve made through conferences, contests, and social media. I’ve gained amazing critique partners (one of mine is also a Golden Heart finalist this year!), a matchless support system, and lifelong friends over the past few years. I wouldn’t want to do it alone. I’m thankful I don’t have to, and I’m extremely thankful for generous people like Michelle and Amy, who give of their time and talents to help other writers like me. Thank you again! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Amy grew up in Mississippi, but now lives in Rhode Island with her husband and two sons. She spent twelve years working as a news anchor and reporter in four different states: Mississippi, Tennessee, California, and Rhode Island. After years of writing true stories, she retired from the news business to focus on making some up. She writes YA romantic fiction as Amy DeLuca and New Adult romance as Amy Patrick.
Amy DeLuca
2014 GOLDEN HEART® Finalist FOUR BULLETS
2013 GOLDEN HEART® Finalist HIDDEN DEEPhttp://www.amydeluca.com/
Twitter@amydelucaauthor
Thank you, Michelle and Amy for inviting me to tell my story, and thank you for so much more than that! Without your Sun vs. Snow contest, I might never have met my wonderful agent.My agent story is sort of a “when it rains it pours” tale. But before there was a drop, there was a drought. I’d been seeking publication for about two years, starting with my first ms, HIDDEN DEEP, a YA paranormal romance. It got some good feedback, earned some RWA chapter contest finals, one win, and even a 2013 Golden Heart final. But no agent. I did get full requests but was told repeatedly that, while the writing was good and the premise was original, the market was saturated with YA paranormals-- they weren’t convinced they could sell it. I also suspect now that because it was my first ms, the story could have been stronger. I still love that book and have hope of it selling someday (after revisions of course), but taking the advice of wise writers who’d gone before me, I moved on. Everything you’ve heard about how important it is to write the next thing is absolutely true.I completed FOUR BULLETS, a YA romantic mystery inspired by a murder trial I covered years ago as a news anchor/reporter in Mississippi. After running it by my critique partner and a couple of beta readers, I sent out a few queries to agents who’d encouraged me in their rejections of my first book to send them my next project. At about the same time, I found Michelle’s blog and learned of the Sun Vs. Snow contest via Twitter. There was so much excitement surrounding it! It was thrilling to learn my ms had been selected for the agent round, and I had a ball reading the other entries and meeting the other finalists on Twitter.When the day came for the agent round—I won’t lie—I started checking the blog at about 8 a.m. and kept checking back in all day. It was so exciting to see the agent requests for partials accumulate. In the end, I had nine requests. Nine chances to find the agent who might be the one for me! I sent the requested material right away, and over the next few weeks (and even months), some of the partials led to full requests. One of those was from Talcott Notch Literary.As I waited for responses from the contest requests and the queries I’d sent, I kept writing. A lot, in fact. I’d gotten really fired up about writing a contemporary New Adult series set the world I used to inhabit before I became a full-time writer—television news. I had completed two novels in that series by the end of March this year when the 2014 Golden Heart finalists were announced. I was absolutely thrilled on announcement day to learn FOUR BULLETS was a finalist in the YA category!About five minutes after learning of my final, I got an email from an assistant at Talcott Notch, who congratulated me and told me FOUR BULLETS was moving to the top of their TBR pile. I also had new requests from a couple of other agents that day. It was a fun day! After all the waiting, I had a feeling the time might be right for me.A week or two later, I got an awesome email from Rachael Dugas at Talcott Notch. I have many agented writer friends, but I never realized that an agent would tell you flat out in an email that they were offering rep—BUT SHE DID! She said she’d like to talk to me the next day to answer my questions and share her thoughts on my story. When we spoke, it was everything you always hope THE CALL will be—she told me how much she loved my story and why, what her plans were for submission (squee!), and her ideas on how to strengthen the story. I loved her personality and especially the things she’d noticed about the story that could use more development—it really rang true to me. Of course I really loved that she loves my book!At that time, I still had six fulls out with agents, some of whom had specifically asked me to notify them if I received an offer. I did that, celebrated on the down-low with some close friends, and waited the week out to give them a chance to read the full. In the end it was Rachael’s connection to and understanding of my story, as well as her attitude toward my writing career as a whole that convinced me she was the right agent for me. I’m looking forward to her revision notes on FOUR BULLETS and to going out on submission with that book soon.In the meantime, I have no time at all to be nervous. I’m writing every day and working hard toward reaching another exciting goal – self-publishing (under a different pen name, AMY PATRICK) my New Adult romance series CHANNEL TWENTYSOMETHING. The books are scheduled for a Summer 2014 release!Some things I’ve learned so far on my journey:-It happens when the time is right. If I’d gotten THE CALL when I started querying my first book, and the agent asked very normal questions like “how many books do you think you can write a year?” or “how long does it take you to complete a book?” my answer would have been, “I don’t know.” YIKES! I didn’t know until I wrote FOUR BULLETS if I could even write another book—maybe the first time had been a fluke? Now I know myself much better as a writer, and I know what I can expect from myself and what I want out of a career.-I learned just how valuable pitch and query contests (like the ones you’ll find on michelle4laughs.blogspot.com and http://chasingthecrazies.wordpress.com) can be for writers. I got helpful query feedback, I’ve remained in touch with quite a few writers I met through Sun Vs. Snow—and I’m thrilled to see how many of them now have agents and even publication dates!-Writers are the nicest people on earth. I would be exactly nowhere without the friends I’ve made through conferences, contests, and social media. I’ve gained amazing critique partners (one of mine is also a Golden Heart finalist this year!), a matchless support system, and lifelong friends over the past few years. I wouldn’t want to do it alone. I’m thankful I don’t have to, and I’m extremely thankful for generous people like Michelle and Amy, who give of their time and talents to help other writers like me. Thank you again! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Amy grew up in Mississippi, but now lives in Rhode Island with her husband and two sons. She spent twelve years working as a news anchor and reporter in four different states: Mississippi, Tennessee, California, and Rhode Island. After years of writing true stories, she retired from the news business to focus on making some up. She writes YA romantic fiction as Amy DeLuca and New Adult romance as Amy Patrick.
Amy DeLuca
2014 GOLDEN HEART® Finalist FOUR BULLETS
2013 GOLDEN HEART® Finalist HIDDEN DEEPhttp://www.amydeluca.com/
Twitter@amydelucaauthor
May 1, 2014
Spring Query Extravaganza 7
I'm fresh from reading the slush in Pitch Slam! Maybe it's given me new ideas. We'll see.
It's here!! I'll be doing a limited number of query critiques in the next few weeks to celebrate spring. Right now I have no spots open. Keep watching and it's likely I'll reopen in a week or two. Or if you can't wait, I have an editing service. Contact me through the twitter or the contact form on this blog. Query critiques are on sale for $20, payable through paypal, and include two revisions.
Participants must comment on other Spring Query entries to pay it forward. If I notice someone not leaving comments, their query will get skipped.
Now to the fine print:
All query critiques are subjective. And rabbits don't come out of my hat, but I'll do my best. Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear. Buy one and I'll throw in a set of free steak knives, just pay separate shipping and handling fees. Plus, you know, I'm leaving pink comments in celebration of spring so you have to be able to tolerate pink.
As sent to me:
Bred to strike hard and fast, Lysander belongs to an elite guild of assassins known as The Shadows. When their latest mission goes awry, he’s betrayed by his own and left for dead. From the depths of oblivion, Lysander awakens to a ravishing angel caressing him in the most intimate of places…and to find he’s crippled and immobile. With the police hunting The Shadows, he’s trapped with no choice but to claim he has no recollection of who he is.
Spirited country miss Lady Olivia Woodward is mortified when she’s caught stroking him down there. In her defense, she was bathing him. The enigmatic hero saved her father from a harrowing assassination attempt; the least she could do is nurse him back to health. But the man defies all rules of convalescence. He’s arrogant. Exasperating. Infuriating. And gorgeous as sin. Attraction sizzles as tempers fly, clashes of ire caving to torrid, delirious pleasure.
Drawn by her tender compassion, Lysander knows every kiss is stolen, every touch forbidden. His past will resurface, and when it does, it will destroy Olivia’s trust...for he was sent to kill her father, not save him. As the police close in on unraveling his identity, The Shadows lurk in the darkness, reminding Lysander to finish his task. But they’re not the only ones after Olivia’s father. A deranged madman is on the loose and will stop at nothing to annihilate Olivia’s entire family. With the clock ticking down, Lysander must choose. His loyalty torn, will he betray his brethren and risk everything for Olivia? Or will he stand by his allegiance, and lose the only woman he’s ever loved?
With my crazy comments:
Bred to strike hard and fast, Lysander belongs to an elite guild of assassins known as The Shadows.(Solid. Nothing bad or great here, except I've seen a lot of assassins in the slush lately. Doesn't stand out.) When their latest mission goes awry, he’s betrayed by his own and left for dead.(Same here.) From the depths of oblivion(cut this? You need one sentence with a straight start and this adds nothing.), Lysander awakens to a ravishing angel caressing him in the most intimate of places(Ok-ay. That made me smile. It's very specific.)…and to find he’s crippled and immobile(Zap! Here's something different. This would make a hook to lead with. From assassin to cripple, Lysander's lost in blanky blank. Lysander was once an assassin, now he's a cripple on the lamb. Or something much better than those attempts.). With the police hunting The Shadows, he’s trapped with no choice but to claim he has no recollection of who he is(to claim memory loss and hide his identity).
Spirited country miss(I think you need hyphens there. Spirited-country-miss) Lady Olivia Woodward is mortified when she’s caught stroking(She seems too proper for 'stroking.' Heaven forbid. Maybe 'touching'? On another level, is she mortified she was stroking or caught stroking? Ignore me. I digress. ) him down there. In her defense, she was bathing him. The enigmatic hero saved her father from a harrowing assassination attempt; the least she could do is nurse the arrogant and infuriating man him back to health. (But the man defies all rules of convalescence. He’s arrogant. Exasperating. Infuriating. And gorgeous as sin. Attraction sizzles as tempers fly, clashes of ire caving to torrid, delirious pleasure. You've gone too deep into character. This is too much in other words. Give us the gist and leave off the extra. The direction is pretty clear.) And what does 'saved' dad think of this stroking? :-) I can't help imagining he's not pleased. Digressing again, sorry.
Drawn by her tender compassion(Too flowery. Plus simple sentences are your friend in a query. They are more direct and powerful.), Lysander knows every kiss is stolen, every touch forbidden. His past will resurface, and when it does, it will destroy Olivia’s trust...for he was sent to kill her father, not save him. As the police close in on unraveling his identity, The Shadows lurk in the darkness, reminding Lysander to finish his task. But they’re not the only ones after Olivia’s father. A deranged madman is on the loose and will stop at nothing to annihilate Olivia’s entire family(This is probably one too many tidbits of information. It doesn't reoccur so maybe cut.). With the clock ticking down(Generic. Cliche.), Lysander must choose.(Shorten. I'd cut everything after 'not save him' and use one sentence. With the police and his old comrades closing in, Lysander must choose whether to return to his brethren or keep the only woman he's ever loved.) His loyalty torn, will he betray his brethren and risk everything for Olivia? Or will he stand by his allegiance, and lose the only woman he’s ever loved? (Questions are almost always bad in a query. For one thing, they open the door for the agent to say 'who cares' or some other undesirable answer.) What happened to him being crippled? Lame? Something? Gotta keep that in the ending--it's a main theme.
The writer mentioned this is a historical romance in her email. Besides the "Lady" and the bashfulness I'm not seeing anything historical in this query. The writing has a feel of Austin and the Napoleonic Wars but that's inconclusive. There's nothing to set what time period we're set in. Lysander is an ancient Greek name and Olivia (it means Elf Army. How awesome is that!) is English. Not much help there.
We've got voice in this query. Trim it down. Add some historical features. Don't forget the cripple part at the ending (even if Lysander's better). Then you'll be well on your way.
It's here!! I'll be doing a limited number of query critiques in the next few weeks to celebrate spring. Right now I have no spots open. Keep watching and it's likely I'll reopen in a week or two. Or if you can't wait, I have an editing service. Contact me through the twitter or the contact form on this blog. Query critiques are on sale for $20, payable through paypal, and include two revisions.
Participants must comment on other Spring Query entries to pay it forward. If I notice someone not leaving comments, their query will get skipped.
Now to the fine print:
All query critiques are subjective. And rabbits don't come out of my hat, but I'll do my best. Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear. Buy one and I'll throw in a set of free steak knives, just pay separate shipping and handling fees. Plus, you know, I'm leaving pink comments in celebration of spring so you have to be able to tolerate pink.
As sent to me:
Bred to strike hard and fast, Lysander belongs to an elite guild of assassins known as The Shadows. When their latest mission goes awry, he’s betrayed by his own and left for dead. From the depths of oblivion, Lysander awakens to a ravishing angel caressing him in the most intimate of places…and to find he’s crippled and immobile. With the police hunting The Shadows, he’s trapped with no choice but to claim he has no recollection of who he is.
Spirited country miss Lady Olivia Woodward is mortified when she’s caught stroking him down there. In her defense, she was bathing him. The enigmatic hero saved her father from a harrowing assassination attempt; the least she could do is nurse him back to health. But the man defies all rules of convalescence. He’s arrogant. Exasperating. Infuriating. And gorgeous as sin. Attraction sizzles as tempers fly, clashes of ire caving to torrid, delirious pleasure.
Drawn by her tender compassion, Lysander knows every kiss is stolen, every touch forbidden. His past will resurface, and when it does, it will destroy Olivia’s trust...for he was sent to kill her father, not save him. As the police close in on unraveling his identity, The Shadows lurk in the darkness, reminding Lysander to finish his task. But they’re not the only ones after Olivia’s father. A deranged madman is on the loose and will stop at nothing to annihilate Olivia’s entire family. With the clock ticking down, Lysander must choose. His loyalty torn, will he betray his brethren and risk everything for Olivia? Or will he stand by his allegiance, and lose the only woman he’s ever loved?
With my crazy comments:
Bred to strike hard and fast, Lysander belongs to an elite guild of assassins known as The Shadows.(Solid. Nothing bad or great here, except I've seen a lot of assassins in the slush lately. Doesn't stand out.) When their latest mission goes awry, he’s betrayed by his own and left for dead.(Same here.) From the depths of oblivion(cut this? You need one sentence with a straight start and this adds nothing.), Lysander awakens to a ravishing angel caressing him in the most intimate of places(Ok-ay. That made me smile. It's very specific.)…and to find he’s crippled and immobile(Zap! Here's something different. This would make a hook to lead with. From assassin to cripple, Lysander's lost in blanky blank. Lysander was once an assassin, now he's a cripple on the lamb. Or something much better than those attempts.). With the police hunting The Shadows, he’s trapped with no choice but to claim he has no recollection of who he is(to claim memory loss and hide his identity).
Spirited country miss(I think you need hyphens there. Spirited-country-miss) Lady Olivia Woodward is mortified when she’s caught stroking(She seems too proper for 'stroking.' Heaven forbid. Maybe 'touching'? On another level, is she mortified she was stroking or caught stroking? Ignore me. I digress. ) him down there. In her defense, she was bathing him. The enigmatic hero saved her father from a harrowing assassination attempt; the least she could do is nurse the arrogant and infuriating man him back to health. (But the man defies all rules of convalescence. He’s arrogant. Exasperating. Infuriating. And gorgeous as sin. Attraction sizzles as tempers fly, clashes of ire caving to torrid, delirious pleasure. You've gone too deep into character. This is too much in other words. Give us the gist and leave off the extra. The direction is pretty clear.) And what does 'saved' dad think of this stroking? :-) I can't help imagining he's not pleased. Digressing again, sorry.
Drawn by her tender compassion(Too flowery. Plus simple sentences are your friend in a query. They are more direct and powerful.), Lysander knows every kiss is stolen, every touch forbidden. His past will resurface, and when it does, it will destroy Olivia’s trust...for he was sent to kill her father, not save him. As the police close in on unraveling his identity, The Shadows lurk in the darkness, reminding Lysander to finish his task. But they’re not the only ones after Olivia’s father. A deranged madman is on the loose and will stop at nothing to annihilate Olivia’s entire family(This is probably one too many tidbits of information. It doesn't reoccur so maybe cut.). With the clock ticking down(Generic. Cliche.), Lysander must choose.(Shorten. I'd cut everything after 'not save him' and use one sentence. With the police and his old comrades closing in, Lysander must choose whether to return to his brethren or keep the only woman he's ever loved.) His loyalty torn, will he betray his brethren and risk everything for Olivia? Or will he stand by his allegiance, and lose the only woman he’s ever loved? (Questions are almost always bad in a query. For one thing, they open the door for the agent to say 'who cares' or some other undesirable answer.) What happened to him being crippled? Lame? Something? Gotta keep that in the ending--it's a main theme.
The writer mentioned this is a historical romance in her email. Besides the "Lady" and the bashfulness I'm not seeing anything historical in this query. The writing has a feel of Austin and the Napoleonic Wars but that's inconclusive. There's nothing to set what time period we're set in. Lysander is an ancient Greek name and Olivia (it means Elf Army. How awesome is that!) is English. Not much help there.
We've got voice in this query. Trim it down. Add some historical features. Don't forget the cripple part at the ending (even if Lysander's better). Then you'll be well on your way.
April 29, 2014
PITCH SLAM BATTLE ROUND IS HERE!!
Welcome to the Executives from Literary Records!
Here you'll find the final picks of Team Sweeter!
Writers, please know that limiting our team to twelve picks was a difficult task. There were so many talented entries in the Vegas round. If yours is not here, check out the choices of the other talented managers: Team Stray Tats, Team Spyder, Team Magenta, and Team Electric.
Whatever happens, don't let one contest influence your spirits. Keep writing and keep auditioning!
Now the Execs will be rockin' their way here soon. The Battle Round is Tuesday and Wednesday. No comments please on the entry posts except for the Execs and those will be hidden until 4:00 pm Eastern Wednesday. You can however leave a comment on this post, if you want to say thanks or congratulate someone or have a question. If there is a problem with your entry be sure and let us know.
The Execs will make requests based on the music recording sales thresholds:Demo Tape – Query and first 5 pagesSilver Record – Query and first 10 pagesGold Record – Query and first 50 pagePlatinum Record – Query and first 100 pagesDiamond Record- Query and full
As mentioned before, those requests will be hidden until 4:00 pm Eastern Wednesday. Then any ties will be settled with Battle Blitzes over on twitter under the tag #BattleBlitz.
Team Sweeter expects to go Platinum and Diamond all the way! There is so much talent here, we can't stop dancing! The Rockingest records for sure!
PitchSlam #1: The Problem with Ray, Adult Mystery
Genre: Adult Mystery
Title: The Problem with RayWord Count: 73,000
Song: Everywhere I go – Lissie
Pitch: A man goes missing and nobody cares. When his body appears in a tote filled with bloody fish, single mom Jules vows to uncover the truth, hopefully without ending up in a fish tote herself.
First 250 words: Jules cleaned up the trail of blood leading to the freezer. Pink-tinged water splashed on the floor as she plunged the mop into the pail. She glanced at the clock. Almost midnight and still no Ray.
A metallic tang of blood hung in the air as water lapped gently against the pier. The night was calm and clear but it felt as if something dark lurked beneath the stillness.
Jules turned as she heard a rumbling sound. She saw two bright headlights heading down the wooden dock towards her. She backed up. The truck continued slowly forward, the muffled thump of music coming from inside the cab. It stopped a couple of feet in front of her.
She heard the whirr of a power window then saw a glimmer of light reflecting off the shiny metal object thrust through the open window.
“About time,” she said, taking the Lucky Lager.
“Why, you’re very welcome. Cleaning up the scene of the crime I see.”
“Yeah, well, mass murder does leave the nastiest stains. Thank God for Blind Eye Bleach. Not even the lab boys will know what I’ve been up to.”
“Handy, since you work in a dungeon of death.”
“Most people call it a fish plant J.C. And I’m lucky to have the work. Of course, my idea of a good job is anything that doesn’t involve a drive-in window. But seriously, I think something might be wrong. Ray never showed up.”
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
Title: The Problem with RayWord Count: 73,000
Song: Everywhere I go – Lissie
Pitch: A man goes missing and nobody cares. When his body appears in a tote filled with bloody fish, single mom Jules vows to uncover the truth, hopefully without ending up in a fish tote herself.
First 250 words: Jules cleaned up the trail of blood leading to the freezer. Pink-tinged water splashed on the floor as she plunged the mop into the pail. She glanced at the clock. Almost midnight and still no Ray.
A metallic tang of blood hung in the air as water lapped gently against the pier. The night was calm and clear but it felt as if something dark lurked beneath the stillness.
Jules turned as she heard a rumbling sound. She saw two bright headlights heading down the wooden dock towards her. She backed up. The truck continued slowly forward, the muffled thump of music coming from inside the cab. It stopped a couple of feet in front of her.
She heard the whirr of a power window then saw a glimmer of light reflecting off the shiny metal object thrust through the open window.
“About time,” she said, taking the Lucky Lager.
“Why, you’re very welcome. Cleaning up the scene of the crime I see.”
“Yeah, well, mass murder does leave the nastiest stains. Thank God for Blind Eye Bleach. Not even the lab boys will know what I’ve been up to.”
“Handy, since you work in a dungeon of death.”
“Most people call it a fish plant J.C. And I’m lucky to have the work. Of course, my idea of a good job is anything that doesn’t involve a drive-in window. But seriously, I think something might be wrong. Ray never showed up.”
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
PitchSlam #2: Aere, NA Paranormal Romance
Genre: New Adult Paranormal RomanceTitle: AereWord Count: 64,000
Song: Imagine Dragons, Demons. Because nothing says God of Destruction like a bunch of dragons singing about their inner demons, dontcha think?
Pitch: When the God of Destruction falls for Mia, all Helheim breaks loose. His enemies want revenge, and Mia’s terrified -- of the mythological monsters hunting her, and of losing her heart to an immortal assassin.
First 250: “Cheese and crackers!”
A sharp explosion rocked the back of the Audi. The sound reverberated along the quiet country road, bouncing off the cathedral of oaks that lined the five-mile drive leading to my parents’ house. I clung to the steering wheel with stiff fingers, slowly navigating the wobbly vehicle to the narrow shoulder. The Audi limped feebly until I pulled completely off the road. Then I killed the ignition and jumped out to examine the damage.
“Language, baby sister.” Jason maintained his impeccable posture as he climbed out of the passenger seat. He walked to the back of the car and squatted next to me. “It’s only a flat tire.”
Only a flat tire, sure. I’d chosen today to break in my brand new mid-calf riding boots—the ones with the shiny silver buckles and the baby-soft leather exterior. The ones I’d failed to weatherproof before landing my car smack in the middle of a mud puddle.
I loved my brother. But Jason knew diddly-squat about shoes.
“And what would you have said?” I asked.
Jason let loose with a stream of expletives that would have made our southern mother blush.
“Classy.” I rolled my eyes. “They teach you those words at the fancy Ivy League school?”
“In an extracurricular capacity.” Jason shrugged. “Why do you think I joined Kappa O?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The networking opportunities? Practical experience? It is a business fraternity, isn’t it?” “Not everything has to be so serious, Mia. Some things are just supposed to be fun.”
Song: Imagine Dragons, Demons. Because nothing says God of Destruction like a bunch of dragons singing about their inner demons, dontcha think?
Pitch: When the God of Destruction falls for Mia, all Helheim breaks loose. His enemies want revenge, and Mia’s terrified -- of the mythological monsters hunting her, and of losing her heart to an immortal assassin.
First 250: “Cheese and crackers!”
A sharp explosion rocked the back of the Audi. The sound reverberated along the quiet country road, bouncing off the cathedral of oaks that lined the five-mile drive leading to my parents’ house. I clung to the steering wheel with stiff fingers, slowly navigating the wobbly vehicle to the narrow shoulder. The Audi limped feebly until I pulled completely off the road. Then I killed the ignition and jumped out to examine the damage.
“Language, baby sister.” Jason maintained his impeccable posture as he climbed out of the passenger seat. He walked to the back of the car and squatted next to me. “It’s only a flat tire.”
Only a flat tire, sure. I’d chosen today to break in my brand new mid-calf riding boots—the ones with the shiny silver buckles and the baby-soft leather exterior. The ones I’d failed to weatherproof before landing my car smack in the middle of a mud puddle.
I loved my brother. But Jason knew diddly-squat about shoes.
“And what would you have said?” I asked.
Jason let loose with a stream of expletives that would have made our southern mother blush.
“Classy.” I rolled my eyes. “They teach you those words at the fancy Ivy League school?”
“In an extracurricular capacity.” Jason shrugged. “Why do you think I joined Kappa O?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The networking opportunities? Practical experience? It is a business fraternity, isn’t it?” “Not everything has to be so serious, Mia. Some things are just supposed to be fun.”
PitchSlam #3: The Forbidden Hula, YA Magical Realism
Genre: YA Magical RealismTitle: The Forbidden HulaWord Count: 88,000
Song: Sweet Leilani (Chris Isaak version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRd8fxWVRw8&feature=kp)
Pitch: Pele reaches out to Lani through her grandmother's dance. Find me. Free me. Tell the truth. Lani will betray hula, her kumu, her heritage, if she dances this heretic hula. But Pele demands sacrifice.
250: In the old days, when the islands of Hawaii were young, the magic of creation still lay thick upon them. And it was wild. It hung in the rocky crevices and treetops like a fog, with the fog. It rushed with the lava. It needed to be controlled. Already the mountains twisted themselves into volcanoes, ready to destroy. Already the people of the islands retreated farther in and higher up and looked with fear upon nature as it gave birth to itself, over, and over, and over. They pleaded for help. They looked to their chiefs.
Kanehoalani was not the greatest chief, but he saw the magic that lingered in the world, and he felt his responsibility. He would tame the island. He would absorb the magic into his own soul. No, the Creator said. He could not hold back the volcano. Only his daughter Pele, who stirred the poi pot, who spoke to the sharks, who learned the movements of the palms could become The Lady of Fire. She would save her people.
Kane wept. ***
"Watch those shoulders!" Lani called over the ukelele music.
Lani's job was to get this roomful of little girls to swing their hips and keep their shoulders still -- basic beginning hula. But they weren't having much luck. They looked more like defective dashboard dolls than the spirit of aloha. Lani stopped the music on her ipod.
"Ok, girls, watch me. What do I do first?"
Lani put her hands on her hips.
Song: Sweet Leilani (Chris Isaak version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRd8fxWVRw8&feature=kp)
Pitch: Pele reaches out to Lani through her grandmother's dance. Find me. Free me. Tell the truth. Lani will betray hula, her kumu, her heritage, if she dances this heretic hula. But Pele demands sacrifice.
250: In the old days, when the islands of Hawaii were young, the magic of creation still lay thick upon them. And it was wild. It hung in the rocky crevices and treetops like a fog, with the fog. It rushed with the lava. It needed to be controlled. Already the mountains twisted themselves into volcanoes, ready to destroy. Already the people of the islands retreated farther in and higher up and looked with fear upon nature as it gave birth to itself, over, and over, and over. They pleaded for help. They looked to their chiefs.
Kanehoalani was not the greatest chief, but he saw the magic that lingered in the world, and he felt his responsibility. He would tame the island. He would absorb the magic into his own soul. No, the Creator said. He could not hold back the volcano. Only his daughter Pele, who stirred the poi pot, who spoke to the sharks, who learned the movements of the palms could become The Lady of Fire. She would save her people.
Kane wept. ***
"Watch those shoulders!" Lani called over the ukelele music.
Lani's job was to get this roomful of little girls to swing their hips and keep their shoulders still -- basic beginning hula. But they weren't having much luck. They looked more like defective dashboard dolls than the spirit of aloha. Lani stopped the music on her ipod.
"Ok, girls, watch me. What do I do first?"
Lani put her hands on her hips.
PitchSlam #4: Shura Rinshu and the Mysterious Attacks, MG Fantasy
Genre: MG FantasyTitle: Shura Rinshu and the Mysterious AttacksWord Count: 35,000
Song: Gavin DeGraw - I Don't Want To Be
Pitch: When twelve-year-old Shura Rinshu bonds with a magical creature reserved for the royals, she must deal with the prejudices of the noble class and prove that she is more than a simple peasant.
250 words: Shura Rinshu would bond with a creature; she was sure of it. It could be a brownie, a sphinx, or a two-headed wolf. Anything except a three-tailed fox, a griffen, or a dragon—those were for nobles. But she knew what she wanted. Shura ran her fingers along the painted, yellow fin of the sea serpent on her bedroom wall. She dashed from her room and slid down the banister. The force launched her across the open entryway. She landed and flung open the door letting in the sound of the ocean waves.
“Shura!” her mother shouted from the balcony above, “what do I always say? Button your top button.”
She spun, red hair whipping around her face in messy tangles. Her delicate fingers grasped the plain hilt of a dagger at her waist. She cut the button off, letting it clatter to the ground. It rolled under the plain cedar cabinet in the entryway.
“Top button’s buttoned,” she said.
“Shura!” her mom said, exasperated. “Where are you going?”
“I told Thett I’d meet him at the wall to say goodbye.”
“Hurry, then. If you're late for the bonding ceremony, all the slots for seafarers will be full.”
“I’m going to bond with a sea serpent, Mom, so it doesn’t matter if I’m late. Plus, I’ll be back soon.” She rushed out the door before her mother could respond.
Song: Gavin DeGraw - I Don't Want To Be
Pitch: When twelve-year-old Shura Rinshu bonds with a magical creature reserved for the royals, she must deal with the prejudices of the noble class and prove that she is more than a simple peasant.
250 words: Shura Rinshu would bond with a creature; she was sure of it. It could be a brownie, a sphinx, or a two-headed wolf. Anything except a three-tailed fox, a griffen, or a dragon—those were for nobles. But she knew what she wanted. Shura ran her fingers along the painted, yellow fin of the sea serpent on her bedroom wall. She dashed from her room and slid down the banister. The force launched her across the open entryway. She landed and flung open the door letting in the sound of the ocean waves.
“Shura!” her mother shouted from the balcony above, “what do I always say? Button your top button.”
She spun, red hair whipping around her face in messy tangles. Her delicate fingers grasped the plain hilt of a dagger at her waist. She cut the button off, letting it clatter to the ground. It rolled under the plain cedar cabinet in the entryway.
“Top button’s buttoned,” she said.
“Shura!” her mom said, exasperated. “Where are you going?”
“I told Thett I’d meet him at the wall to say goodbye.”
“Hurry, then. If you're late for the bonding ceremony, all the slots for seafarers will be full.”
“I’m going to bond with a sea serpent, Mom, so it doesn’t matter if I’m late. Plus, I’ll be back soon.” She rushed out the door before her mother could respond.
PitchSlam #5: Illusion of a Majesty, YA Fantasy
Genre: YA FantasyTitle: Illusion of a MajestyWord Count: 75,000
Song: Love Story by Taylor Swift
Pitch: Jenna can steal another's powers. It's her only form of protection from her psycho dad. But the more she takes, the more like him she becomes, until she must choose: her life, or her sanity.
250: The box, placed so deliberately on our welcome mat, made my skin prickle the second I opened the front door.
My crazy dad had found us again. We'd made it almost a year this time. But that little box always brought trouble and it meant in a few hours, before morning, we'd be gone. Moved on to the next place, the next school, like we'd never been here at all.
Damn it, I really liked Botany.
I stepped out onto the dark porch and reached down to pick it up. It was exactly the same shape, weight, and color as every other one before it. Inside would be exactly the same, too. A doll's body—minus the head. He'd already sent us that.
And I'd hidden it.
I threw a quick glance down the hall to where Mom was watching TV. If I hid this, too, she'd never know. We could stay in this laid-back beach town. I'd never have to leave my friends or the cheap, old, station wagon she'd brought me to learn to drive in.
Despite that thought, there was a name in this box. Either me, my mom, or my sister, Vivien, were about to have some serious bad luck. I had to find out whose name my dad had sent us. Usually the head would be enough to figure out if it was me, because while we all had brown hair, our eyes were different. Theirs were brown, mine were blue.
Song: Love Story by Taylor Swift
Pitch: Jenna can steal another's powers. It's her only form of protection from her psycho dad. But the more she takes, the more like him she becomes, until she must choose: her life, or her sanity.
250: The box, placed so deliberately on our welcome mat, made my skin prickle the second I opened the front door.
My crazy dad had found us again. We'd made it almost a year this time. But that little box always brought trouble and it meant in a few hours, before morning, we'd be gone. Moved on to the next place, the next school, like we'd never been here at all.
Damn it, I really liked Botany.
I stepped out onto the dark porch and reached down to pick it up. It was exactly the same shape, weight, and color as every other one before it. Inside would be exactly the same, too. A doll's body—minus the head. He'd already sent us that.
And I'd hidden it.
I threw a quick glance down the hall to where Mom was watching TV. If I hid this, too, she'd never know. We could stay in this laid-back beach town. I'd never have to leave my friends or the cheap, old, station wagon she'd brought me to learn to drive in.
Despite that thought, there was a name in this box. Either me, my mom, or my sister, Vivien, were about to have some serious bad luck. I had to find out whose name my dad had sent us. Usually the head would be enough to figure out if it was me, because while we all had brown hair, our eyes were different. Theirs were brown, mine were blue.
PitchSlam #6: Defensive Gun, YA Contemporary
Genre: YA Contemporary/RealisticTitle: Defensive GunWord Count: 57,000
Song: "Possibility" by Lykke Li and "Brave" by Sara Bareilles
Pitch: During the course of a TV interview, Amanda relives the painful memories of her kidnapping and escape; if she doesn't tell her story now, her captor will do it for her.
First 250: Walking into the television studio was painfully similar to walking into the police station. The TV crew got really quiet and tried not to stare. They probably thought I wouldn't notice but how could I not? Those deputies and lawyers and handcuffed criminals had done the same thing.
My shoulders sagged under the weight of their curiosity. I hated it but I understood. I was the girl who’d been kidnapped, here to tell the world everything that happened. Well, almost everything. I wasn't sure I was ready to talk about the day I was found.
You’re okay. You can do this. Just keep walking.
My steps faltered and I grabbed my brother, Travis’s arm. “I wish I had my tennis shoes.”
Mom turned when she heard that. She knew which shoes I wanted—the ones I’d been wearing the night they got me back. But they were locked away in police evidence, covered in dirt and blood. She softened when I started rubbing my hand. “Talking about it will help.”
Her reminder was my doctor’s echo, a five-word platitude I couldn't escape.
I rubbed harder.
“Well, at the very least it’ll take some of the public’s interest in you away,” dad, the practical one, said.
I nodded and pretended like I agreed with them, like those were the reasons I was doing this interview so soon. But they weren't.
I had to talk now, before she got the chance. No one else had the right to tell my story.
Song: "Possibility" by Lykke Li and "Brave" by Sara Bareilles
Pitch: During the course of a TV interview, Amanda relives the painful memories of her kidnapping and escape; if she doesn't tell her story now, her captor will do it for her.
First 250: Walking into the television studio was painfully similar to walking into the police station. The TV crew got really quiet and tried not to stare. They probably thought I wouldn't notice but how could I not? Those deputies and lawyers and handcuffed criminals had done the same thing.
My shoulders sagged under the weight of their curiosity. I hated it but I understood. I was the girl who’d been kidnapped, here to tell the world everything that happened. Well, almost everything. I wasn't sure I was ready to talk about the day I was found.
You’re okay. You can do this. Just keep walking.
My steps faltered and I grabbed my brother, Travis’s arm. “I wish I had my tennis shoes.”
Mom turned when she heard that. She knew which shoes I wanted—the ones I’d been wearing the night they got me back. But they were locked away in police evidence, covered in dirt and blood. She softened when I started rubbing my hand. “Talking about it will help.”
Her reminder was my doctor’s echo, a five-word platitude I couldn't escape.
I rubbed harder.
“Well, at the very least it’ll take some of the public’s interest in you away,” dad, the practical one, said.
I nodded and pretended like I agreed with them, like those were the reasons I was doing this interview so soon. But they weren't.
I had to talk now, before she got the chance. No one else had the right to tell my story.
