Michelle Hauck's Blog, page 14
October 30, 2017
NoQS Minion 1: Flight of the Monarchs, Adult Literary Ownvoices
Title: FLIGHT OF THE MONARCHS
Genre: Adult Literary, #ownvoices
Word Count: 100,000
My MC and MA are dressed as:
Celia and Jeremy are dressed as Monarch butterflies. She loves the little black-and-orange creatures that pervade their coastal town every fall. He loves her, and though she's as unreachable as those butterflies, he would do anything for her. He would don a pair of dumb, homemade butterfly wings for her. He would even kill for her, and he does.
Query:
FLIGHT OF THE MONARCHS follows five young friends through the turbulent sixties, from the psychedelic streets of Haight-Ashbury to the jungles of Vietnam. It's a season of Americana laden with experimentation, obsession, and the consequences of a generation in revolt.
Celia watched Jeremy kill his own father to save her life. When he returns ten years later, awaiting duty in Vietnam, she tries to heal her emotional wounds by resurrecting their violent, yet soulful past, but meets resistance from Jeremy, who sees nothing soulful about it. Meanwhile, Fletcher holds a shameful secret. He stands idle as other gay men of his generation suffer the costs of open homosexuality. Once confronted, he must decide whether to join the fight or go on hiding. No matter which he chooses, though, he risks losing everyone he loves. After a traditional post-WWII upbringing, Angie delights in the sudden abundance of choices—free love or feminism, Frenching beatniks or falling in love—all of which tempt her to abandon her own belief system. Guiding her through the chaos, Moose, a Mexican hippie-in-the-making, searching for his place in the world, dives headlong into the cultural revolution with sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll.
As the decade reaches a fever pitch, and their innocence crumbles alongside the American Dream, it’s the bonds of friendship that will see them through to the other side. But if they let their personal demons tear them apart, they may not survive the sixties.
First 250 words:
1957
Celia Lynch caught her stride as grass tore from the earth beneath her shoes. The wings at her back, forged of wire and paper maché, dragged in the autumn wind, but she refused to give up.
“You’re just a girl, Celia,” the boy yelled back to her. “Why do you bother? You’ll never catch me.”
“I’ll catch you,” Celia hollered, cheeks burning. “You'll see.” But the boy was right. He was impossible to catch, and a rotten scoundrel besides. If he had a mother, the unfortunate woman might have fashioned him a respectable pair of wings. She might have hurled the little boar into a bath or taught him that it's impolite to gloat.
“It’ll never happen,” the boy yelled. “You’re as slow as Droopy Dog, and I’m the Flash.”
“You shut up, Germ-y Hill. You’re Pepé Le Pew.” Unfortunately for Celia, though, Jeremy Hill had no mother, only a father—a monster with handsome eyes and a fondness for whiskey.
As their race reached its conclusion, Celia and Jeremy collapsed together onto a cool patch of earth near the eucalyptus tree shaped like an ogre with grotesque, flaking limbs.
“I touched a few,” Jeremy said, still full of breath.
Celia, fighting to catch hers, looked up.
Arriving early this year, swarm after swarm of Monarch butterflies floated peacefully by, having migrated nearly two thousand miles from their summer home in Canada to overwinter here in Pacific Grove.
“Jeremiah!”
Upon hearing his father’s voice, Jeremy jumped to his feet and dashed home.
Genre: Adult Literary, #ownvoices
Word Count: 100,000
My MC and MA are dressed as:
Celia and Jeremy are dressed as Monarch butterflies. She loves the little black-and-orange creatures that pervade their coastal town every fall. He loves her, and though she's as unreachable as those butterflies, he would do anything for her. He would don a pair of dumb, homemade butterfly wings for her. He would even kill for her, and he does.
Query:
FLIGHT OF THE MONARCHS follows five young friends through the turbulent sixties, from the psychedelic streets of Haight-Ashbury to the jungles of Vietnam. It's a season of Americana laden with experimentation, obsession, and the consequences of a generation in revolt.
Celia watched Jeremy kill his own father to save her life. When he returns ten years later, awaiting duty in Vietnam, she tries to heal her emotional wounds by resurrecting their violent, yet soulful past, but meets resistance from Jeremy, who sees nothing soulful about it. Meanwhile, Fletcher holds a shameful secret. He stands idle as other gay men of his generation suffer the costs of open homosexuality. Once confronted, he must decide whether to join the fight or go on hiding. No matter which he chooses, though, he risks losing everyone he loves. After a traditional post-WWII upbringing, Angie delights in the sudden abundance of choices—free love or feminism, Frenching beatniks or falling in love—all of which tempt her to abandon her own belief system. Guiding her through the chaos, Moose, a Mexican hippie-in-the-making, searching for his place in the world, dives headlong into the cultural revolution with sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll.
As the decade reaches a fever pitch, and their innocence crumbles alongside the American Dream, it’s the bonds of friendship that will see them through to the other side. But if they let their personal demons tear them apart, they may not survive the sixties.
First 250 words:
1957
Celia Lynch caught her stride as grass tore from the earth beneath her shoes. The wings at her back, forged of wire and paper maché, dragged in the autumn wind, but she refused to give up.
“You’re just a girl, Celia,” the boy yelled back to her. “Why do you bother? You’ll never catch me.”
“I’ll catch you,” Celia hollered, cheeks burning. “You'll see.” But the boy was right. He was impossible to catch, and a rotten scoundrel besides. If he had a mother, the unfortunate woman might have fashioned him a respectable pair of wings. She might have hurled the little boar into a bath or taught him that it's impolite to gloat.
“It’ll never happen,” the boy yelled. “You’re as slow as Droopy Dog, and I’m the Flash.”
“You shut up, Germ-y Hill. You’re Pepé Le Pew.” Unfortunately for Celia, though, Jeremy Hill had no mother, only a father—a monster with handsome eyes and a fondness for whiskey.
As their race reached its conclusion, Celia and Jeremy collapsed together onto a cool patch of earth near the eucalyptus tree shaped like an ogre with grotesque, flaking limbs.
“I touched a few,” Jeremy said, still full of breath.
Celia, fighting to catch hers, looked up.
Arriving early this year, swarm after swarm of Monarch butterflies floated peacefully by, having migrated nearly two thousand miles from their summer home in Canada to overwinter here in Pacific Grove.
“Jeremiah!”
Upon hearing his father’s voice, Jeremy jumped to his feet and dashed home.
NoQS Minion 2: Pale Path, Adult Science Fiction
Title: PALE PATH
Genre: Adult Science Fiction
Word Count: 118,000
Taln and Llorven are dressed as comically inept human politicians. Taln is only aware that the costume is of a human—all that matters to her is stealing a few moments as the species she wishes so much to be. Llorven, of course, is aware how ridiculous the humans are, and views his attire more as a commentary on the inadequacies of every race and government except his own.
Query:
Idealism kills. Luckily, for mercenary Taln, knives do too. But the last thing this human-feline hybrid wants is to fight for a higher cause. Ever since her sister died in a cultural revolution, Taln has seen “noble” causes as nothing more than a speedy way to commit suicide.
Taln’s current contract is protecting the overly idealistic Prince Alistair, a handsome human she might serve even without the paycheck. Her biggest concern is not failing him as she did her sister. Taln’s talents are tested when Alistair’s goals for his people land them both on a dangerous quest to uncover the secrets of the galaxy’s elf-like ruling race—the Pale Elari.
Retracing the paths of the Pale Elari to their origin galaxy, the travelers unearth a corrupt empire thriving on the backs of dwarf-like genetically-engineered slave races. Taln finds herself torn between her growing feelings for Alistair and an intrusive realization that no one is separate from the world they inhabit. To be the hero Alistair needs, Taln will have to do far more than keep him alive. She must risk both of their lives for something bigger—because saving him may mean dooming countless others.
Elves, dwarves, and damsels in distress are altered in unexpected ways by a sci-fi setting. Pale Path is an 118,000 word space opera which blends the fantasy world-building and races of The Hobbit with the trope-twisting of Guardians of the Galaxy in a fast-paced romp through space.
First 250 words:
Spying is wrong. But morals had never stopped me before, and as long as Prince Alistair insisted on keeping secrets, they probably never would. I paused in the doorway of the suite he’d been assigned for our voyage, checking the steel corridor of the spaceship for witnesses.
I inched into his room, toward the desk across from the sealed bedroom. I could get in and out without Alistair noticing—unless he heard my boots. Carpeting surrounded the desk, but the rest of the floor was bare metal. I crept cautiously, one hand gripping the vest that held most of my knives, pulling its fabric tightly over my breasts to keep the blades from clanking.
Slinking to the bedroom door, I listened for him. I couldn’t make out words in the babble of his praying, but my shoulders relaxed at his contented murmur. Before getting lost in his voice, I forced myself to turn away; Alistair’s worship wouldn’t keep him busy long.
No hiding spot presented itself near the desk to obscure even my meager five-foot frame. Not good. Like a house with no back door, this left me with no exit strategy. My catlike ears pinned back, and my tail twitched.
I had a key to Prince Alistair’s quarters, so I’d done nothing illegal yet. But the facts were that he didn’t know I was there, and this was his personal space. Human cultural ideas of privacy varied too much by situation for me to track them, and why should I bother when their application disrupted my ability to protect Alistair?
Genre: Adult Science Fiction
Word Count: 118,000
Taln and Llorven are dressed as comically inept human politicians. Taln is only aware that the costume is of a human—all that matters to her is stealing a few moments as the species she wishes so much to be. Llorven, of course, is aware how ridiculous the humans are, and views his attire more as a commentary on the inadequacies of every race and government except his own.
Query:
Idealism kills. Luckily, for mercenary Taln, knives do too. But the last thing this human-feline hybrid wants is to fight for a higher cause. Ever since her sister died in a cultural revolution, Taln has seen “noble” causes as nothing more than a speedy way to commit suicide.
Taln’s current contract is protecting the overly idealistic Prince Alistair, a handsome human she might serve even without the paycheck. Her biggest concern is not failing him as she did her sister. Taln’s talents are tested when Alistair’s goals for his people land them both on a dangerous quest to uncover the secrets of the galaxy’s elf-like ruling race—the Pale Elari.
Retracing the paths of the Pale Elari to their origin galaxy, the travelers unearth a corrupt empire thriving on the backs of dwarf-like genetically-engineered slave races. Taln finds herself torn between her growing feelings for Alistair and an intrusive realization that no one is separate from the world they inhabit. To be the hero Alistair needs, Taln will have to do far more than keep him alive. She must risk both of their lives for something bigger—because saving him may mean dooming countless others.
Elves, dwarves, and damsels in distress are altered in unexpected ways by a sci-fi setting. Pale Path is an 118,000 word space opera which blends the fantasy world-building and races of The Hobbit with the trope-twisting of Guardians of the Galaxy in a fast-paced romp through space.
First 250 words:
Spying is wrong. But morals had never stopped me before, and as long as Prince Alistair insisted on keeping secrets, they probably never would. I paused in the doorway of the suite he’d been assigned for our voyage, checking the steel corridor of the spaceship for witnesses.
I inched into his room, toward the desk across from the sealed bedroom. I could get in and out without Alistair noticing—unless he heard my boots. Carpeting surrounded the desk, but the rest of the floor was bare metal. I crept cautiously, one hand gripping the vest that held most of my knives, pulling its fabric tightly over my breasts to keep the blades from clanking.
Slinking to the bedroom door, I listened for him. I couldn’t make out words in the babble of his praying, but my shoulders relaxed at his contented murmur. Before getting lost in his voice, I forced myself to turn away; Alistair’s worship wouldn’t keep him busy long.
No hiding spot presented itself near the desk to obscure even my meager five-foot frame. Not good. Like a house with no back door, this left me with no exit strategy. My catlike ears pinned back, and my tail twitched.
I had a key to Prince Alistair’s quarters, so I’d done nothing illegal yet. But the facts were that he didn’t know I was there, and this was his personal space. Human cultural ideas of privacy varied too much by situation for me to track them, and why should I bother when their application disrupted my ability to protect Alistair?
NoQS Minion 3: All-Overish, Adult Historical w/ Romance
Title: ALL-OVERISHGenre: Adult historical with strong romantic elementsWord count: 85,000
My MC and MA are dressed as:
Szoszo would come to the masquerade ball as an elegant Cleopatra because the queen was known for her cunning and political acumen. Plus, she must have had a sumptuous wardrobe. And the jewels. Gracious, it would be delightful to forgo stays and a corset at a party, too.
Drawn to the statesman for obvious reasons, Felix would make a perfect Julius Caesar. Both men would have done anything for their countrymen—even marrying an enemy to promote unity in the Empire. And he’d secretly love showing off his active physique in breastplate and whatever that kilt thing is called.
Query:
After the death of her exiled hero father, accident-prone Countess Szoszo Vecsey flees Washington, D.C. and the scandal that nearly ruined her life. Once back in her native land of Hungary, she’s convinced the distance, and her father’s reputation, will give her the chance to start over. When she runs—or falls, really—into diplomat Duke Felix zu Hohenlohe, the man she’s daydreamed about since she was sixteen, Szoszo hopes her school girl crush will blossom into a romance. And with the way he keeps kissing her? It just might.
With all of his focus on accelerating his career, Felix doesn’t have much time to fantasize about the delectable Szoszo. His posting in Budapest is complicated enough by the country’s vow to break free from the Empire. If Felix can broker a compromise, his election as the next Prime Minister of a united Austria-Hungary is almost guaranteed. But as a detested Austrian, he isn’t given the chance to practice his savoir-faire, until Szoszo invents a long-time friendship between him and her father—a ruse that will give Felix credibility to negotiate.
Felix claims a sizzling kiss for every fib Szoszo tells, and they soon channel their attraction into an engagement to avoid their own scandal. But when Szoszo’s sordid past arrives in the form of the new American ambassador, Felix must figure out how to prove her innocence before the hard-won tranquility of Central Europe, and Felix’s political aspirations, are shattered.
First 250:
The bell over the door to the stationery shop clanged for the third time in minutes. Lightheaded from nerves, Szoszo focused on the nearest shelf. Calm yourself. For this plan to work, the appearance of a relaxed tourist was imperative. How humiliating for Felix to know she angled to meet him. Had posted herself in the shop on two separate afternoons after she saw him exit three days before.
Tingles lit her nerves on fire, a sensation she embraced with pleasure. Szoszo ran a gloved finger over the translucent sheet of onionskin. No one in Washington desired her correspondence, but maybe she’d form new friendships in Budapest. Or have cause to write love letters. Heat flushed her skin, and she fanned herself. Yes, please.
Would he recognize her? It was six years ago when he dined with Papa. Her seventeen-year-old self probably made no impression on a sophisticated man like him.
Unable to resist, she peeked out the front window. A silver-haired woman rubbed her thumb across the face of a pocket watch. Please be Felix's sister. They’d been together last time, too.
Shoulders loose, feign disinterest. She’d flash him a hesitant smile that would turn to gradual recognition. Aren’t you Duke zu Hohenlohe?That wouldn’t do—too forward.
Hand over heart with fluttering lashes? Gracious, you’re so familiar, have we met? Her nose wrinkled. Unrefined Yankee wasn’t her goal.
A clip of leather-heeled shoes moved closer to her hiding spot, steady and unhurried, unlike the blood pounding in Szoszo’s body.
My MC and MA are dressed as:
Szoszo would come to the masquerade ball as an elegant Cleopatra because the queen was known for her cunning and political acumen. Plus, she must have had a sumptuous wardrobe. And the jewels. Gracious, it would be delightful to forgo stays and a corset at a party, too.
Drawn to the statesman for obvious reasons, Felix would make a perfect Julius Caesar. Both men would have done anything for their countrymen—even marrying an enemy to promote unity in the Empire. And he’d secretly love showing off his active physique in breastplate and whatever that kilt thing is called.
Query:
After the death of her exiled hero father, accident-prone Countess Szoszo Vecsey flees Washington, D.C. and the scandal that nearly ruined her life. Once back in her native land of Hungary, she’s convinced the distance, and her father’s reputation, will give her the chance to start over. When she runs—or falls, really—into diplomat Duke Felix zu Hohenlohe, the man she’s daydreamed about since she was sixteen, Szoszo hopes her school girl crush will blossom into a romance. And with the way he keeps kissing her? It just might.
With all of his focus on accelerating his career, Felix doesn’t have much time to fantasize about the delectable Szoszo. His posting in Budapest is complicated enough by the country’s vow to break free from the Empire. If Felix can broker a compromise, his election as the next Prime Minister of a united Austria-Hungary is almost guaranteed. But as a detested Austrian, he isn’t given the chance to practice his savoir-faire, until Szoszo invents a long-time friendship between him and her father—a ruse that will give Felix credibility to negotiate.
Felix claims a sizzling kiss for every fib Szoszo tells, and they soon channel their attraction into an engagement to avoid their own scandal. But when Szoszo’s sordid past arrives in the form of the new American ambassador, Felix must figure out how to prove her innocence before the hard-won tranquility of Central Europe, and Felix’s political aspirations, are shattered.
First 250:
The bell over the door to the stationery shop clanged for the third time in minutes. Lightheaded from nerves, Szoszo focused on the nearest shelf. Calm yourself. For this plan to work, the appearance of a relaxed tourist was imperative. How humiliating for Felix to know she angled to meet him. Had posted herself in the shop on two separate afternoons after she saw him exit three days before.
Tingles lit her nerves on fire, a sensation she embraced with pleasure. Szoszo ran a gloved finger over the translucent sheet of onionskin. No one in Washington desired her correspondence, but maybe she’d form new friendships in Budapest. Or have cause to write love letters. Heat flushed her skin, and she fanned herself. Yes, please.
Would he recognize her? It was six years ago when he dined with Papa. Her seventeen-year-old self probably made no impression on a sophisticated man like him.
Unable to resist, she peeked out the front window. A silver-haired woman rubbed her thumb across the face of a pocket watch. Please be Felix's sister. They’d been together last time, too.
Shoulders loose, feign disinterest. She’d flash him a hesitant smile that would turn to gradual recognition. Aren’t you Duke zu Hohenlohe?That wouldn’t do—too forward.
Hand over heart with fluttering lashes? Gracious, you’re so familiar, have we met? Her nose wrinkled. Unrefined Yankee wasn’t her goal.
A clip of leather-heeled shoes moved closer to her hiding spot, steady and unhurried, unlike the blood pounding in Szoszo’s body.
NoQS Minion 4: Finder's Genesis, Adult Contemporary Fantasy
Title: FINDER'S GENESISGenre: Adult Contemporary FantasyWord Count: 98,000
My MC and MA (main antagonist) are dressed as:Scarlett doesn’t do costume parties. But here she is, the chump carrying a lampshade under her arm. She was wearing it until she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, so carrying it will have to be good enough. Being a lamp is lame, but it’s better than her original plan of coming straight from work as a dry cleaner’s employee. She pushes through the crowd to the food table. A redhead is already there, and he’s holding a lampshade too. “Want to light up my life?” he asks, and Scarlett groans. She knew this party was a bad idea.
Query:Scarlett and her boyfriend Oz traveled back in time and made a change that wrecked the future.
Except they didn’t. At least not yet.
Alex sees the future, and he knew what was coming. Before Scarlett met her future boyfriend, Alex was there, interfering in her life to keep them apart.
But Scarlett doesn’t know any of that. She has her own problems: she’s broke, her sky-high medical bills are going to ruin her, and she’s on the verge of quitting school and going home a failure. When a stranger named Alex offers to pay off her debt in exchange for a marriage of convenience, she accepts. Sure, it sounds sketchy, but she’s desperate.Overnight, Scarlett’s life changes. Her bills are paid. Her bed is full of pillows. This might be her best decision ever—if she can overlook Alex’s mysterious disappearances, his unexplained scars, and the way he always sits facing a wall when they go out to dinner. Oh, and there’s also that agreement she signed saying she wouldn’t ask personal questions.
Scarlett didn’t plan to get close to Alex, and she certainly didn’t plan to fall for him. She may have agreed not to ask questions, but Scarlett has a supernatural talent for finding things, and she’s willing to use it to find answers. When tragedy ultimately strikes, Scarlett must choose whether to leave the sad but safe future alone, or whether to meddle and set in motion a new chain of events to save the only man she’s ever loved.
First 250 words:The bell on the door jangled once, twice, three times, and the chime at the drive-through window rang out. It was morning rush at Greenest Clean, and I couldn’t process clothes fast enough.When business slowed later in the morning, I went through the pockets of the dropped off clothing to make sure no one had forgotten anything. Usually there was nothing more than a gum wrapper or a hair tie, but today I discovered a wallet full of hundred-dollar bills in an expensive pea coat.No ID in the wallet, but I remembered the man who dropped it off. He’d been wearing a Spencer University shirt that had seen better days and a baseball cap pulled low on his forehead.I tried to call him, but he must have given me the wrong number. I closed my eyes, concentrated, and tried to find him by thinking about his scruffy Spencer University t-shirt. I thought it would be unique enough to do the trick because it had a throwback logo and the neckline had a small tear.I got nothing. Either he was too far away, or his shirt wasn’t distinct enough. I fingered the crisp bills in the wallet. Just one of them would buy my groceries for a month. With a sigh, I closed the wallet and locked it in the cash box.A week later, he still hadn’t picked up the wallet. Inside was enough money to change my life, and this guy didn’t even remember he lost it.
My MC and MA (main antagonist) are dressed as:Scarlett doesn’t do costume parties. But here she is, the chump carrying a lampshade under her arm. She was wearing it until she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, so carrying it will have to be good enough. Being a lamp is lame, but it’s better than her original plan of coming straight from work as a dry cleaner’s employee. She pushes through the crowd to the food table. A redhead is already there, and he’s holding a lampshade too. “Want to light up my life?” he asks, and Scarlett groans. She knew this party was a bad idea.
Query:Scarlett and her boyfriend Oz traveled back in time and made a change that wrecked the future.
Except they didn’t. At least not yet.
Alex sees the future, and he knew what was coming. Before Scarlett met her future boyfriend, Alex was there, interfering in her life to keep them apart.
But Scarlett doesn’t know any of that. She has her own problems: she’s broke, her sky-high medical bills are going to ruin her, and she’s on the verge of quitting school and going home a failure. When a stranger named Alex offers to pay off her debt in exchange for a marriage of convenience, she accepts. Sure, it sounds sketchy, but she’s desperate.Overnight, Scarlett’s life changes. Her bills are paid. Her bed is full of pillows. This might be her best decision ever—if she can overlook Alex’s mysterious disappearances, his unexplained scars, and the way he always sits facing a wall when they go out to dinner. Oh, and there’s also that agreement she signed saying she wouldn’t ask personal questions.
Scarlett didn’t plan to get close to Alex, and she certainly didn’t plan to fall for him. She may have agreed not to ask questions, but Scarlett has a supernatural talent for finding things, and she’s willing to use it to find answers. When tragedy ultimately strikes, Scarlett must choose whether to leave the sad but safe future alone, or whether to meddle and set in motion a new chain of events to save the only man she’s ever loved.
First 250 words:The bell on the door jangled once, twice, three times, and the chime at the drive-through window rang out. It was morning rush at Greenest Clean, and I couldn’t process clothes fast enough.When business slowed later in the morning, I went through the pockets of the dropped off clothing to make sure no one had forgotten anything. Usually there was nothing more than a gum wrapper or a hair tie, but today I discovered a wallet full of hundred-dollar bills in an expensive pea coat.No ID in the wallet, but I remembered the man who dropped it off. He’d been wearing a Spencer University shirt that had seen better days and a baseball cap pulled low on his forehead.I tried to call him, but he must have given me the wrong number. I closed my eyes, concentrated, and tried to find him by thinking about his scruffy Spencer University t-shirt. I thought it would be unique enough to do the trick because it had a throwback logo and the neckline had a small tear.I got nothing. Either he was too far away, or his shirt wasn’t distinct enough. I fingered the crisp bills in the wallet. Just one of them would buy my groceries for a month. With a sigh, I closed the wallet and locked it in the cash box.A week later, he still hadn’t picked up the wallet. Inside was enough money to change my life, and this guy didn’t even remember he lost it.
NoQS Minion 5: If Darkness Should Take Us, Women's Fiction w/ Speculative
Title: IF DARKNESS SHOULD TAKE US
Genre: Women’s Fiction w/Speculative Elements
Word Count: 122,000
My MC and MA are dressed as Che Guevara.
The neighbors say Bea has the best party costume. She sports the military fatigues, the unruly hair, the trademark beret. And they’re applauding. Nice. But here comes that thieving teen Chas, striding across the road, a rifle over his shoulder, a cigar in his mouth – where did he get that in this bleak world? Then he slaps a beret on his head. He can’t be Che Guevara, too! With a sneering smile, Chas waltzes up to Bea’s fifteen-year-old granddaughter and plants a kiss on her lips. Bea is ready to pounce.
My Query:
Dear Agents and Editors,
Grandma prepped for apocalypse, but when a solar pulse destroys modern life, traumatized teens may be her undoing.
Bea Crenshaw has seen disaster coming for years. She’s amassed secret stockpiles of food and gear and dug a hidden cistern that holds enough water to carry her family through a long Texas summer. She thinks she’s ready for the worst, and it comes with a poison-spewing train wreck beside her Austin subdivision. While ash is still clearing from the air, the sun strikes Earth with a massive electromagnetic burst.
Left alone with four grandkids, Bea struggles to protect them from toxic surroundings, encroaching marauders, deadly disease, and countless other threats — all without power, cars, phones, or running water. Worse still, she has no idea if her husband and adult kids will ever return. Her one source of news is a radio ham who tells her the entire U.S. grid has been fried.
Bea shares her stockpiles with starving neighbors but insists they farm and collect rain in exchange for rations. Her work brings her close to an old flame, Jack Jeffers; loss and longing drive her back into his bed. But desperate hookups among teenagers lead to a disastrous pregnancy, an exploding house, and an armed showdown. If she can’t get her crops, her unstable heart, and her failing memory to behave, what remains of Bea’s family will end in the Texas dust.
My speculative women's novel, IF DARKNESS SHOULD TAKE US, portrays a family's fight to survive unparalleled catastrophe. The carefully laid plans of a powerhouse contemporary woman steadily unravel, leaving her straining to hold her grandkids and community together with little more than tenacity and abiding love.
First 250 Words:
The day came when Nature lashed out against us. Because no matter how desperately a mother loves you, she can only put up with so much.
I understood where Nature was coming from. My family never listened to me either. That’s why I didn’t tell them about the guns I bought.
On a Friday in early October, the young adults in my family went to the Oklahoma-Texas game up in Dallas – a big football rivalry around here. They dragged my husband Hank the Crank along, leaving me in South Austin with my grandchildren.
At the time, I was glad to see Hank go. He’d been making me crazy since he retired: hovering like a gnat; micro-managing my coffee-making; griping at me for reading instead of waiting attentively for him to spout something terse. Lord, I needed a break from that man. The three-day trip to Dallas seemed perfect.
That afternoon I brought my grandkids home from school and sat down in Hank’s rocker, which the rest of us were forbidden to use. But he wasn’t home, so too bad for him. I checked paperwork on my laptop while the kids played X-Box games.
Twelve-year-old Milo jumped in behind me, hollering, “What’s a deed?”
“Nothing!” I snapped the laptop shut.
“Nana’s got a secret!” Not much gets past Milo.
I wasn’t a built-in-babysitter grandma and only saw my four grandkids together on holidays. For weeks I’d been excited about spending time alone with them.
A cruel trick sometimes, getting what you ask for.
Genre: Women’s Fiction w/Speculative Elements
Word Count: 122,000
My MC and MA are dressed as Che Guevara.
The neighbors say Bea has the best party costume. She sports the military fatigues, the unruly hair, the trademark beret. And they’re applauding. Nice. But here comes that thieving teen Chas, striding across the road, a rifle over his shoulder, a cigar in his mouth – where did he get that in this bleak world? Then he slaps a beret on his head. He can’t be Che Guevara, too! With a sneering smile, Chas waltzes up to Bea’s fifteen-year-old granddaughter and plants a kiss on her lips. Bea is ready to pounce.
My Query:
Dear Agents and Editors,
Grandma prepped for apocalypse, but when a solar pulse destroys modern life, traumatized teens may be her undoing.
Bea Crenshaw has seen disaster coming for years. She’s amassed secret stockpiles of food and gear and dug a hidden cistern that holds enough water to carry her family through a long Texas summer. She thinks she’s ready for the worst, and it comes with a poison-spewing train wreck beside her Austin subdivision. While ash is still clearing from the air, the sun strikes Earth with a massive electromagnetic burst.
Left alone with four grandkids, Bea struggles to protect them from toxic surroundings, encroaching marauders, deadly disease, and countless other threats — all without power, cars, phones, or running water. Worse still, she has no idea if her husband and adult kids will ever return. Her one source of news is a radio ham who tells her the entire U.S. grid has been fried.
Bea shares her stockpiles with starving neighbors but insists they farm and collect rain in exchange for rations. Her work brings her close to an old flame, Jack Jeffers; loss and longing drive her back into his bed. But desperate hookups among teenagers lead to a disastrous pregnancy, an exploding house, and an armed showdown. If she can’t get her crops, her unstable heart, and her failing memory to behave, what remains of Bea’s family will end in the Texas dust.
My speculative women's novel, IF DARKNESS SHOULD TAKE US, portrays a family's fight to survive unparalleled catastrophe. The carefully laid plans of a powerhouse contemporary woman steadily unravel, leaving her straining to hold her grandkids and community together with little more than tenacity and abiding love.
First 250 Words:
The day came when Nature lashed out against us. Because no matter how desperately a mother loves you, she can only put up with so much.
I understood where Nature was coming from. My family never listened to me either. That’s why I didn’t tell them about the guns I bought.
On a Friday in early October, the young adults in my family went to the Oklahoma-Texas game up in Dallas – a big football rivalry around here. They dragged my husband Hank the Crank along, leaving me in South Austin with my grandchildren.
At the time, I was glad to see Hank go. He’d been making me crazy since he retired: hovering like a gnat; micro-managing my coffee-making; griping at me for reading instead of waiting attentively for him to spout something terse. Lord, I needed a break from that man. The three-day trip to Dallas seemed perfect.
That afternoon I brought my grandkids home from school and sat down in Hank’s rocker, which the rest of us were forbidden to use. But he wasn’t home, so too bad for him. I checked paperwork on my laptop while the kids played X-Box games.
Twelve-year-old Milo jumped in behind me, hollering, “What’s a deed?”
“Nothing!” I snapped the laptop shut.
“Nana’s got a secret!” Not much gets past Milo.
I wasn’t a built-in-babysitter grandma and only saw my four grandkids together on holidays. For weeks I’d been excited about spending time alone with them.
A cruel trick sometimes, getting what you ask for.
NoQS Minion 6: The Season of the Plough, Adult Literary High Fantasy Ownvoices
Title: THE SEASON OF THE PLOUGH
Genre: Adult Literary High Fantasy (#OwnVoices: LGBTQIA)
Word Count: 85,000
My MC and MA (main antagonist) are dressed as:
The Harvest festival in Haveïl celebrates a time when the walls between the living world and the deadlands are paper-thin. Castor Stannon (MA) is a traditionalist and would dress as the restless spirit of a prominent long-dead ancestor, returned from the beyond.
Aewyn (MC) could not follow this tradition as she does not know her ancestry. She might choose a local historical figure at random to blend in. Perhaps they’d choose the same person and see that they’re not so different after all.
Query:
The empire is at war, and diverse refugees from a dozen of its ravaged states have fled the conflict to make a new life for themselves in a village on the frontier. When they stumble across Aewyn, a fairy-blooded foundling, in the deep wood, she sets every tongue wagging. The villagers have heard their share of Chosen One myths in the old stories and songs, and know a child of omen when they see one. Ancient mentor? Check! Mysterious prophecy? Check! All the building blocks of destiny seem to be there.
But the war between good and evil is not so black-and-white in a fallen, post-heroic age, nor are ancient omens so easily read. When the civil war comes home to her village, the cracks in Aewyn’s “Chosen One” prophecy begin to appear. When her wise guardian is exposed as a common criminal on the run and sentenced to hang for treason, Aewyn is faced with a hard choice of her own: will she betray her potentially world-saving destiny to rescue her oldest friend, or sacrifice his life to stay the course of her prophecy and call it heroism?
THE SEASON OF THE PLOUGH, my adult fantasy novel of 85,000 words, is a multiple-POV “small-town epic” about a search for family and a sense of simple belonging, set against the backdrop of a simmering civil war that threatens to tip the balance of a world on the brink of cataclysm. As an asexual mixed-race serf, Aewyn inverts the tropes of the traditional heroic princess, and this standalone novel sets the stage for a four-book series in which she leads an ensemble cast of the fantasy genre’s marginalized “bit players,” whose spectrum of diversity broadens over time as their stories intertwine. Beautiful damsels and musclebound knights have already had their share of stories; The Season of the Plough and its companion books tell us what becomes of the rest of the world while its heroes are riding off to glory.
First 250 words:
A trail of hot blood dappled and cratered the snow, etching a grisly path deep into the heart of the wood. Gleaming angry and red where it had melted through the unbroken skin of the year’s first squall, the blood was a sure sign that this time, the kill was fresh.
They came over the ridge in cloaks of green and brown, patched against the cold with motley scraps of a dozen fabrics from a dozen lands. Only four of the Havenari had come this way, and not the strongest four; those square-jawed, brawny warriors had taken the Serpent Trail up to search the far side of the ridge, eager for action, glad as falcons to be uncaged.
For now, Robyn was pleased to be rid of them. Most of the Havenari were noisy men, Imperial veterans weighed down by the trappings and tools of war. As she sprang lightly up the hill, the three men at her back followed swiftly and quietly. They were too young, or old, or sick to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the bigger men of the vanguard—but here on the hunt, they moved with an easy grace and an altogether different cunning. Even old Garrod, clad though he was in a pitted coat of battle-worn Travalaithi mail, kept up the pace in near silence. The metallic rustle at his joints with each step was little more than the wind in the trees as they crested the hill and caught sight of the spattered blood.
“We’ve found him,” she said.
Genre: Adult Literary High Fantasy (#OwnVoices: LGBTQIA)
Word Count: 85,000
My MC and MA (main antagonist) are dressed as:
The Harvest festival in Haveïl celebrates a time when the walls between the living world and the deadlands are paper-thin. Castor Stannon (MA) is a traditionalist and would dress as the restless spirit of a prominent long-dead ancestor, returned from the beyond.
Aewyn (MC) could not follow this tradition as she does not know her ancestry. She might choose a local historical figure at random to blend in. Perhaps they’d choose the same person and see that they’re not so different after all.
Query:
The empire is at war, and diverse refugees from a dozen of its ravaged states have fled the conflict to make a new life for themselves in a village on the frontier. When they stumble across Aewyn, a fairy-blooded foundling, in the deep wood, she sets every tongue wagging. The villagers have heard their share of Chosen One myths in the old stories and songs, and know a child of omen when they see one. Ancient mentor? Check! Mysterious prophecy? Check! All the building blocks of destiny seem to be there.
But the war between good and evil is not so black-and-white in a fallen, post-heroic age, nor are ancient omens so easily read. When the civil war comes home to her village, the cracks in Aewyn’s “Chosen One” prophecy begin to appear. When her wise guardian is exposed as a common criminal on the run and sentenced to hang for treason, Aewyn is faced with a hard choice of her own: will she betray her potentially world-saving destiny to rescue her oldest friend, or sacrifice his life to stay the course of her prophecy and call it heroism?
THE SEASON OF THE PLOUGH, my adult fantasy novel of 85,000 words, is a multiple-POV “small-town epic” about a search for family and a sense of simple belonging, set against the backdrop of a simmering civil war that threatens to tip the balance of a world on the brink of cataclysm. As an asexual mixed-race serf, Aewyn inverts the tropes of the traditional heroic princess, and this standalone novel sets the stage for a four-book series in which she leads an ensemble cast of the fantasy genre’s marginalized “bit players,” whose spectrum of diversity broadens over time as their stories intertwine. Beautiful damsels and musclebound knights have already had their share of stories; The Season of the Plough and its companion books tell us what becomes of the rest of the world while its heroes are riding off to glory.
First 250 words:
A trail of hot blood dappled and cratered the snow, etching a grisly path deep into the heart of the wood. Gleaming angry and red where it had melted through the unbroken skin of the year’s first squall, the blood was a sure sign that this time, the kill was fresh.
They came over the ridge in cloaks of green and brown, patched against the cold with motley scraps of a dozen fabrics from a dozen lands. Only four of the Havenari had come this way, and not the strongest four; those square-jawed, brawny warriors had taken the Serpent Trail up to search the far side of the ridge, eager for action, glad as falcons to be uncaged.
For now, Robyn was pleased to be rid of them. Most of the Havenari were noisy men, Imperial veterans weighed down by the trappings and tools of war. As she sprang lightly up the hill, the three men at her back followed swiftly and quietly. They were too young, or old, or sick to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the bigger men of the vanguard—but here on the hunt, they moved with an easy grace and an altogether different cunning. Even old Garrod, clad though he was in a pitted coat of battle-worn Travalaithi mail, kept up the pace in near silence. The metallic rustle at his joints with each step was little more than the wind in the trees as they crested the hill and caught sight of the spattered blood.
“We’ve found him,” she said.
NoQS Minion 7: The Grim Readers, MG Contemporary
Title: THE GRIM READERS
Genre: Middle Grade Contemporary
Word Count: 30,000
Morgan’s dressed as early episode Eleven, in gray sweatpants and an oversize blue sweatshirt, with a few dirt streaks on her face for good measure. Her mom even helped her turn a bald cap into a pretty believable buzz cut.
Enter Avery, in the iconic pink dress with tube socks and sneakers (white, but not dirty - she does have standards after all). The blonde wig she picked out is long and flowing, much silkier than the one in the show. And…is she wearing makeup? Yes, yes she is. Green eyeshadow to match the socks and pink lipstick to match the dress.
Morgan wonders why she lets herself get talked into these things.
Query:
Hello! My query for a middle grade contemporary novel is as follows:
Introverted Morgan Hawke has never asked for much. She just wants to stay safely cocooned in her comfort zone, surrounded by the people who know her and accept her for who she is. But when her family relocates to dreary Massachusetts from happy, sunny Florida because of her father’s new job, that dream is shattered, her life is in tatters, everything is ruined.
As if being the awkward new girl in a private school filled with aloof and judgmental kids isn’t bad enough, Mom thinks she’s helping Morgan by making her sign up for a book club. A BOOK CLUB. Where people are supposed to read for fun. Why not make her join The Mahjong Society? The Fundamentals of Magic Team? The HAM Radio Club?
If things continue down the same gloomy path, Morgan doesn’t think she’ll survive middle school. Even the dorks have a group of friends they can rely on. But, rather than blindly accept the disaster her life has become, Morgan tries to branch out and befriend the other reluctant members of the book club. She’s met with a catastrophic birthday party, a mortifying science experiment, and a terrifying encounter with a...a witch? However, Morgan is persistent—she isn’t about to let seventh grade tear her apart. She vows to prove that braces and mean girls and fluffy slime are no match for an emoji-loving Floridian.
First 250:
She was on a journey, I could tell. A journey I wanted to join her on—right out the classroom door and down the east coast. Her tiny legs fluttered up the back of the chair, and she climbed hesitantly onto Jared Jackson’s blue striped shirt. She skittered her way up his shoulder blades and onto his neck. Jared swiped at his head, probably feeling a little itchy. The ladybug stopped, waiting to see if she was going to be squashed. She wasn’t. She scrambled up the base of his skull, landing on a short dark curl. Poor thing. She must have landed in 7B English by accident, and now she was lost. Alone. Her life turned upside down. I could relate.
“Morgan!”
My head snapped up at Mrs. Graves’ booming voice, waking me from my ladybug haze. How many times had she called my name?
“Yes?” Oh, great. I’d drifted off again. Please don’t ask me a question. Please. There was zero chance I’d know the answer.
“Can you name a few of the languages that Mrs. Who speaks?” Mrs. Graves stood with her hands on her hips, the flash in her eyes cementing the fact that she knew I hadn’t been paying attention. I’m sure she knew I couldn’t answer the question either. A Wrinkle in Time was maybe the worst book I’d ever read. I had no idea know why everybody loved it so much.
“Uh, Chinese, um, French”—I swallowed, even though my mouth was totally dry— “and, um, English.”
Genre: Middle Grade Contemporary
Word Count: 30,000
Morgan’s dressed as early episode Eleven, in gray sweatpants and an oversize blue sweatshirt, with a few dirt streaks on her face for good measure. Her mom even helped her turn a bald cap into a pretty believable buzz cut.
Enter Avery, in the iconic pink dress with tube socks and sneakers (white, but not dirty - she does have standards after all). The blonde wig she picked out is long and flowing, much silkier than the one in the show. And…is she wearing makeup? Yes, yes she is. Green eyeshadow to match the socks and pink lipstick to match the dress.
Morgan wonders why she lets herself get talked into these things.
Query:
Hello! My query for a middle grade contemporary novel is as follows:
Introverted Morgan Hawke has never asked for much. She just wants to stay safely cocooned in her comfort zone, surrounded by the people who know her and accept her for who she is. But when her family relocates to dreary Massachusetts from happy, sunny Florida because of her father’s new job, that dream is shattered, her life is in tatters, everything is ruined.
As if being the awkward new girl in a private school filled with aloof and judgmental kids isn’t bad enough, Mom thinks she’s helping Morgan by making her sign up for a book club. A BOOK CLUB. Where people are supposed to read for fun. Why not make her join The Mahjong Society? The Fundamentals of Magic Team? The HAM Radio Club?
If things continue down the same gloomy path, Morgan doesn’t think she’ll survive middle school. Even the dorks have a group of friends they can rely on. But, rather than blindly accept the disaster her life has become, Morgan tries to branch out and befriend the other reluctant members of the book club. She’s met with a catastrophic birthday party, a mortifying science experiment, and a terrifying encounter with a...a witch? However, Morgan is persistent—she isn’t about to let seventh grade tear her apart. She vows to prove that braces and mean girls and fluffy slime are no match for an emoji-loving Floridian.
First 250:
She was on a journey, I could tell. A journey I wanted to join her on—right out the classroom door and down the east coast. Her tiny legs fluttered up the back of the chair, and she climbed hesitantly onto Jared Jackson’s blue striped shirt. She skittered her way up his shoulder blades and onto his neck. Jared swiped at his head, probably feeling a little itchy. The ladybug stopped, waiting to see if she was going to be squashed. She wasn’t. She scrambled up the base of his skull, landing on a short dark curl. Poor thing. She must have landed in 7B English by accident, and now she was lost. Alone. Her life turned upside down. I could relate.
“Morgan!”
My head snapped up at Mrs. Graves’ booming voice, waking me from my ladybug haze. How many times had she called my name?
“Yes?” Oh, great. I’d drifted off again. Please don’t ask me a question. Please. There was zero chance I’d know the answer.
“Can you name a few of the languages that Mrs. Who speaks?” Mrs. Graves stood with her hands on her hips, the flash in her eyes cementing the fact that she knew I hadn’t been paying attention. I’m sure she knew I couldn’t answer the question either. A Wrinkle in Time was maybe the worst book I’d ever read. I had no idea know why everybody loved it so much.
“Uh, Chinese, um, French”—I swallowed, even though my mouth was totally dry— “and, um, English.”
NoQS Minion 8: Brian Bradley: Olympics (or Bust), MG Contemporary, Humor
Title: BRIAN BRADLEY: OLYMPICS (or BUST)
Genre: Middle Grade Contemporary; Humor
Word Count: 37,000
My MC and MA are dressed as:
Both Brian (MC) and Marcus (MA) are dressed as Chicago Bulls player, Bobby Portis. While Marcus' jersey fits, Brian’s comes halfway to his knees. There are other differences, too. Brian has two things tucked under his jersey: a fake Olympic medal and a cardboard cutout of Michael Phelps with a picture of his own face taped on the front. Marcus has a spitball shooter stuffed in the back of his shorts. And a watch—no way can he be late for baseball practice. His dad will flip.
Query:
Until now, ten-year-old Brian Bradley was a lock for Camp Jackman—a training camp for Olympic hopefuls. After all, he has a room full of trophies and a closet stuffed with tracksuits from all-star hockey and soccer teams. But ever since his best friend betrayed him and his sister was diagnosed with diabetes, Brian’s win-loss record has taken a dive. As his confidence sinks, his camp application grows more and more pathetic.
On top of everything, Brian is still on the “before” side of a growth spurt while other kids shoot up around him. When Brian is wrongly accused of starting a classroom eraser fight, his mom and principal force him to compete in a dreaded writing contest. If he doesn’t ace all three essays, he can’t apply to Camp Jackman at all.
Just as his application is officially DOA, video of an epic classroom food fight goes viral. Brian knows this is his chance to be as brave as his sister—who’s taken on her diabetes like a world-class champion—and either take matters into his own hands or kiss his Olympic dreams goodbye.
First 250 words:
CHAPTER ONE – HEAVY AMMUNITION
Fifth Grade Life Tip #1: If an eraser fight breaks out in your class, be ready to duck. And don’t get blamed for starting it.
The Shack is noisy, like always.
Kids turn in their seats to chat with friends. Today, even Clayton is backwards, facing me—and he never breaks the rules.
“You ready for today?”
“Think so.” My eyes dart to Clayton’s yellow shirt. I can’t admit I’m nervous about playing a sport—any sport—for the first time in my life.
“Shack Kids, I’m stepping out.” Mr. Young’s deep voice bounces off the walls. We all know it means he’s off to puff up his hair in the bathroom. In the main building. He does that.
The second he leaves, a piece of eraser, small and pink, whizzes past my ear.
“Bombs away!” Jayson calls.
Another chunk of pink flies overhead. This one’s bigger—the size of a sugar cube. I spin around to find Marcus and Jayson bent way over a desk, making a catapult from a ruler and pencil case.
Marcus’ tall body stretches out in a bright blue shirt. I’d love to fire an eraser back at him. Right, smack between his spiky blond hair and out-of-control eyebrows. He deserves it. For lots of reasons, but especially for all he’s done to me.
But I won’t. Mr. Young’s been handing out group-detentions lately and I don’t have time for one today.
Not on the last day of tryouts for the All-Star baseball team.
Genre: Middle Grade Contemporary; Humor
Word Count: 37,000
My MC and MA are dressed as:
Both Brian (MC) and Marcus (MA) are dressed as Chicago Bulls player, Bobby Portis. While Marcus' jersey fits, Brian’s comes halfway to his knees. There are other differences, too. Brian has two things tucked under his jersey: a fake Olympic medal and a cardboard cutout of Michael Phelps with a picture of his own face taped on the front. Marcus has a spitball shooter stuffed in the back of his shorts. And a watch—no way can he be late for baseball practice. His dad will flip.
Query:
Until now, ten-year-old Brian Bradley was a lock for Camp Jackman—a training camp for Olympic hopefuls. After all, he has a room full of trophies and a closet stuffed with tracksuits from all-star hockey and soccer teams. But ever since his best friend betrayed him and his sister was diagnosed with diabetes, Brian’s win-loss record has taken a dive. As his confidence sinks, his camp application grows more and more pathetic.
On top of everything, Brian is still on the “before” side of a growth spurt while other kids shoot up around him. When Brian is wrongly accused of starting a classroom eraser fight, his mom and principal force him to compete in a dreaded writing contest. If he doesn’t ace all three essays, he can’t apply to Camp Jackman at all.
Just as his application is officially DOA, video of an epic classroom food fight goes viral. Brian knows this is his chance to be as brave as his sister—who’s taken on her diabetes like a world-class champion—and either take matters into his own hands or kiss his Olympic dreams goodbye.
First 250 words:
CHAPTER ONE – HEAVY AMMUNITION
Fifth Grade Life Tip #1: If an eraser fight breaks out in your class, be ready to duck. And don’t get blamed for starting it.
The Shack is noisy, like always.
Kids turn in their seats to chat with friends. Today, even Clayton is backwards, facing me—and he never breaks the rules.
“You ready for today?”
“Think so.” My eyes dart to Clayton’s yellow shirt. I can’t admit I’m nervous about playing a sport—any sport—for the first time in my life.
“Shack Kids, I’m stepping out.” Mr. Young’s deep voice bounces off the walls. We all know it means he’s off to puff up his hair in the bathroom. In the main building. He does that.
The second he leaves, a piece of eraser, small and pink, whizzes past my ear.
“Bombs away!” Jayson calls.
Another chunk of pink flies overhead. This one’s bigger—the size of a sugar cube. I spin around to find Marcus and Jayson bent way over a desk, making a catapult from a ruler and pencil case.
Marcus’ tall body stretches out in a bright blue shirt. I’d love to fire an eraser back at him. Right, smack between his spiky blond hair and out-of-control eyebrows. He deserves it. For lots of reasons, but especially for all he’s done to me.
But I won’t. Mr. Young’s been handing out group-detentions lately and I don’t have time for one today.
Not on the last day of tryouts for the All-Star baseball team.
NoQS Minion 9: Emily in my Head, MG Paranormal
Title: EMILY IN MY HEADGenre: Middle Grade ParanormalWord Count: 55,000
Here is how my MC and MA (main antagonist) are dressed:
Why did I let Nate talk me into coming to the swim club’s Halloween party dressed up like this? “Coach out of hell” sounded good when we were planning it, but now I feel ridiculous. I’m wearing typical swim coach attire—shorts and a T-shirt with our club logo on the back, plus red devil horns. Two stopwatches dangle around my neck, and the front of my shirt says “fly or die.”
“Clare!”
I turn around and stare. There’s Greg, and he’s wearing exactly the same outfit as I am. Except for him it’s not a costume. He’s my coach.
My query:
Twelve-year-old Clare is a competitive swimmer who dreams of making the elite team. When she hears a strange girl’s voice on Halloween night, she suspects her brother is playing tricks on her. But Emily is inside Clare’s head—and Emily is aquaphobic.
Even though Emily’s waking moments are unpredictable and freak Clare out at first, they gradually become friends. Clare senses she can help Emily return to her own life if she can find out where Emily came from. Still, her search for clues takes a backseat to swim practice as she strives to qualify for the elite team.
During the next swim meets, Emily’s fear of water overwhelms Clare, triggering false starts and a threat from her coach not to nominate her for the team. With the nomination deadline looming, Clare has to deal with Emily’s panic attacks, prove herself in the water—and help Emily find the way back where she belongs. Or else she will find herself off the team and with Emily stuck in her head forever.
First 250 words:
Chapter 1 – Thursday, October 31st
Five minutes into tonight’s practice, and we’re all as red as the Canadian flag on the wall. The heating equipment acted up overnight on Wednesday, and the water in the lap pool still isn’t back down to its regular temperature. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable swimming in my entire life, except maybe when they made me wear water wings at kindergarten day camp and I tried to practice my backstroke flip turns anyway.
The second they’ve finished warm-up, the boys start splashing the water from their bottles at each other to cool off. Katie would’ve joined them in a flash and gotten me into it too. But Katie moved away, and my bottle’s filled with diluted cranberry juice, which doesn’t mix well with pool water.
Behind me, the other girls hang onto the lane line, their heads together. “Do you think seven-thirty’s too late to go trick-or-treating?”
“Not on my street. My mom said we could stay out till nine.”
I haven’t even bothered with my usual scary costume. Halloween’s no fun without my best friend. Last year, Katie convinced me we should dress up as spider queens with lots of little plastic spiders fastened all over our costumes. I don’t mind spiders, unlike most of the kids in my class. And it turns out, more than half our neighborhood. We laughed our heads off at everyone shrieking as soon as they saw us. Best Halloween ever.
Here is how my MC and MA (main antagonist) are dressed:
Why did I let Nate talk me into coming to the swim club’s Halloween party dressed up like this? “Coach out of hell” sounded good when we were planning it, but now I feel ridiculous. I’m wearing typical swim coach attire—shorts and a T-shirt with our club logo on the back, plus red devil horns. Two stopwatches dangle around my neck, and the front of my shirt says “fly or die.”
“Clare!”
I turn around and stare. There’s Greg, and he’s wearing exactly the same outfit as I am. Except for him it’s not a costume. He’s my coach.
My query:
Twelve-year-old Clare is a competitive swimmer who dreams of making the elite team. When she hears a strange girl’s voice on Halloween night, she suspects her brother is playing tricks on her. But Emily is inside Clare’s head—and Emily is aquaphobic.
Even though Emily’s waking moments are unpredictable and freak Clare out at first, they gradually become friends. Clare senses she can help Emily return to her own life if she can find out where Emily came from. Still, her search for clues takes a backseat to swim practice as she strives to qualify for the elite team.
During the next swim meets, Emily’s fear of water overwhelms Clare, triggering false starts and a threat from her coach not to nominate her for the team. With the nomination deadline looming, Clare has to deal with Emily’s panic attacks, prove herself in the water—and help Emily find the way back where she belongs. Or else she will find herself off the team and with Emily stuck in her head forever.
First 250 words:
Chapter 1 – Thursday, October 31st
Five minutes into tonight’s practice, and we’re all as red as the Canadian flag on the wall. The heating equipment acted up overnight on Wednesday, and the water in the lap pool still isn’t back down to its regular temperature. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable swimming in my entire life, except maybe when they made me wear water wings at kindergarten day camp and I tried to practice my backstroke flip turns anyway.
The second they’ve finished warm-up, the boys start splashing the water from their bottles at each other to cool off. Katie would’ve joined them in a flash and gotten me into it too. But Katie moved away, and my bottle’s filled with diluted cranberry juice, which doesn’t mix well with pool water.
Behind me, the other girls hang onto the lane line, their heads together. “Do you think seven-thirty’s too late to go trick-or-treating?”
“Not on my street. My mom said we could stay out till nine.”
I haven’t even bothered with my usual scary costume. Halloween’s no fun without my best friend. Last year, Katie convinced me we should dress up as spider queens with lots of little plastic spiders fastened all over our costumes. I don’t mind spiders, unlike most of the kids in my class. And it turns out, more than half our neighborhood. We laughed our heads off at everyone shrieking as soon as they saw us. Best Halloween ever.
October 25, 2017
Cover Art for DEAR RACHEL MADDOW
Today Adrienne Kisner and Rockstar Book Tours are revealing the cover and an exclusive excerpt for DEAR RACHEL MADDOW, which releases June 5, 2018! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to win an ARC!
On to the reveal!
Title: DEAR RACHEL MADDOWAuthor: Adrienne KisnerPub. Date: June 5, 2018Publisher: Feiwel & FriendsFormats: Hardcover, eBookPages: 400Find it: Amazon, B&N, TBD, Goodreads
Sixteen-year-old Brynn Harper’s life has one steadying force—Rachel Maddow. She watches her daily, and after writing to Rachel for a school project—and actually getting a response—Brynn starts
drafting emails to Rachel but never sending them. It’s an outlet; Brynn tells Rachel about breaking up with Sarah, her first serious girlfriend, about her beloved brother Nick’s death, her passive mother and even worse stepfather, about how she’s stuck in remedial courses at school and is considering dropping out.
But then Brynn is confronted with a moral dilemma. She learns that one student representative will be allowed to have a voice among teachers and administrators in the selection of a new school superintendent. Sarah, along with Brynn’s arch-nemesis John, believe only honors students worthy of the selection committee seat. Brynn knows they are more interested in power and perks. Brynn feels all students deserve a voice. When she runs for the position the knives are out and her brother’s memory and her new crush Michaela are shamed. Brynn asks herself: What would Rachel Maddow do?
Exclusive Excerpt!Folder: SentTo: egrimm@westing.pa.eduFrom: Brynnieh0401@gmail.comDate: September 10Subject: School
Assignment
Dear Rachel Maddow,I am writing to you because of a school assignment. It’s a totally lame reason to be writing, but I don’t think you’ll actually read it anyway. This kind of thing is so sixth grade. I am a junior in high school and I’ve been forced to write to a “celebrity hero” by the Applied Language Arts teacher. (Hey Mr. Grimm! How’s it hanging, buddy?) I wasn’t going to do it, because my ex-girlfriend worships you and, hello, school assignment. But I turned on your show and Mom totally freaked out to see me watching you.
Apparently your liberal and leftist views don’t sit well with her. Mom spat out the words like she was talking about my dad, so I knew she meant it. That made you my celebrity hero.You were talking about some guys running for congress. But then you said one of them was “freaking amazing.” I don’t think news people are supposed to say things like that. And isn’t that biased? News people aren’t supposed to be biased. I know this because Mr. Grimm made us watch this video about newswriting.
Though no one else knows this about me, Rachel Maddow, I have a near photographic memory for stuff people say.
Their words just stick in my brain.
So I remember what a reporter is supposed to do.
Anyway, thanks for pissing off my Mom.
Sincerely,Brynn Harper
Folder: SentTo: Brynnieh0401@gmail.com From: Egrimm@westing.pa.eduDate: September 11Subject: RE: School
Assignment
Dear Rachel Maddow,I am writing to
you because of a school assignment.
Apparently your liberal and leftist views still don’t sit well with her. Mom spat out the words like she was talking about my Dad, so I knew she meant it.
So that made you my celebrity hero. [Again, great personal touch. But maybe too intimate for this correspondence?]You were talking about the people running for congress.
But then you said one of them was “freaking amazing.” And I don’t think news people are supposed to say things like that. And isn’t that biased? News people aren’t supposed to be biased. I know this because Mr. Grimm, my English teacher, made us watch this video about newswriting. Though no one else knows this about me, Rachel Maddow, I have a photographic memory for stuff
people say. Their words just stick in my brain. So I remember what a reporter is supposed to be. [You are right, Brynn! I didn’t know that about you. Shouldn’t you remember your
assignments, then?]
Assignment Again
Dear Rachel Maddow, I learned an important lesson about rough drafts. If you really want to send someone a letter, you should just send it. Do not turn it in to your English teacher first. But Mr. Grimm (said English teacher) is the only person I know who doesn’t think I’m hopeless, so I am trying this again
for his sake. Though I’m sending it to you too, to avoid further editing. My name is Brynn Harper and I am sixteen years old. I live with my mother and stepfather in Westing, Pennsylvania. I have a brother, too. Or, I had one, anyway.
I first watched your show a couple of times in high school because my best friend
(well, okay, my girlfriend) loved you, so she kind of dragged me along with her. She’s not my girlfriend anymore. And she said she didn’t have time to watch television anymore either, even for you. So she dumped us both. That gives us something in common.
I had a list of questions that I was supposed to ask you, but I got most of the answers online already. Mr. Grimm suggested I think of new ones. So here you go:
1. When you look at the papers on your desk and circle something, are you really reading from them? Don’t you read from a teleprompter? When you go to commercial, you shuffle those papers, too. Seriously, is there anything even written on them?
2. How much does a person have to know to be considered a “wonk?”
3. At least one person laughs in the background while you are talking. Is this on purpose? Who is that?
4. Why don’t you run for political office?
5. Is there ever a staff meeting when you think to yourself, “Huh, there really isn’t a lot going on in the news today.”
6. How many pairs of shoes do you actually own?
About Adrienne:
I have lived my entire “adult” life in a college dormitory working in both Residence Life and college chaplaincy. I like the term "dormitory" better than "residence hall." I went to school for a long time so that now I get to swoop around in a fancy robe and silly hat (like at Hogwarts). I have an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Vermont College of Fine Arts (a place like Hogwarts). I play both the viola and tennis with more heart than skill. I love my current home in Boston but will always be a Pennsylvanian at heart.
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