Michelle Hauck's Blog, page 19
June 14, 2017
QK Round 2: Mother of All Custody Battles vs. Three Men and an Actuary
Title: FINDING SETHEntry Nickname: Mother of All Custody BattlesWord count: 73KGenre: Women’s Fiction
Query:
Lola Bishop has been to the end of her rope so many times she’s not sure she has enough antidepressants to keep her from tying it into a noose and slipping it around her neck. All she wants is to have a baby and raise a family with her husband, Paul. But their premature son doesn’t make it, and an emergency hysterectomy kills any future dreams of motherhood. More dark days follow in the form of depression and divorce papers. Then she discovers not only has Paul moved in with his young girlfriend, Iris, they’re also expecting a baby – a little boy they name Seth.
But Lola’s got to pull her act together when a car crash kills Paul and Iris and orphans Seth – now a toddler. Iris’s will has some glaring holes, but Paul’s will clearly names Lola as Seth’s guardian. At the same time Iris’s dad, who’s been caring for Seth since the accident, starts building his legal case to contest Paul’s will, Lola ponders whether she’s strong enough to raise the child her ex-husband had with his girlfriend. Steeling her heart, Lola jumps into the legal ring as she and Isaac try to outmaneuver each other in the mother of all custody battles.
First 250:
It was the receptionist at my gynecologist’s office who clued me in that something major was afoot. Not that she said anything in particular – of course she can’t say anything. Medical privacy laws and all. But there’s no privacy law that prohibits a weird, high-pitched tone when calling my name, or an uncomfortable shiftiness palpable across the sliding glass divider.
No, there was no one in the office who said anything during my checkup. But my nurse gave me several odd, sideways glances. And Dr. Marta, the obstetrician who’d walked me through days darker than death, made a telling comment on my way out of the office. As she put her cool, clinical hand on my shoulder, she held it a beat longer than normal and asked: “How’s your friend Brenda these days?”
Brenda Gillis – one of my dearest friends on earth, despite all the crap I’ve put her through – has an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what’s going on in the lives of everyone in Glenhaven without being a busybody. While she flirts with the line of being a gossip, there’s no malice in her methods. Less paparazzi, more society columnist.
I called her immediately from my car. “Where are you?” I asked. “I just left Dr. Marta’s. Her whole staff was acting weird.”
Brenda sighed on the other end. “I’m taking the kiddos to Noodles before their piano lessons,” she said. “Do you want to meet me there? We need to talk.”
VERSUS
Title: Drowning in PerfectEntry Nickname: Three Men and an ActuaryWord Count: 93KGenre: Women’s Commercial Fiction
Query:
Brooke Holt, a twenty-seven-year-old actuary, began her quest for perfection the day her mother walked out of her life. She had been ten, incorrigible, and as far away from perfect as she has ever been.
After her safe, lackluster boyfriend dumps her via a company-wide email, Brooke is unable to cope with the humiliation and flees to Minneapolis for a fresh start. Pressured by an overly helpful coworker, Brooke agrees to rent a basement apartment sight unseen. The three younger, immature men living upstairs are determined to disrupt Brooke’s meticulously crafted life with their teasing, partying, and carefree attitudes.
When her estranged mother reaches out with a wedding invitation after seventeen years of no contact, Brooke views it as the long-awaited opportunity to show her mother she isn’t the stupid, careless child she once was. The only problem is she would rather get a thousand breakup emails than face her mother. Desperate for courage, Brooke turns to the last people she would ever think to ask for help—her rowdy roommates.
The guys rally to help her in their own unique way, which puts her through outlandish challenges such as delivering pickup lines like a pirate, singing in public, and even falling in love. This gauntlet forces her to relinquish control and live in the moment. While their efforts increase her confidence to be herself, she struggles with the vulnerability that comes with letting down her guard.
In the end, she can abandon who she has become to maintain a perfect façade for her mother or embrace the real Brooke and risk losing her mother all over again.
First 250:
And to Brooke Hott, while I enjoyed our time together over the past year, there comes a point when you know a person isn’t THE person, but I wish you all the best.
That gem of a sentence landed in my inbox two weeks earlier, on the Friday before the Christmas holidays, from my boyfriend, Ira. It was the last sentiment in the mass farewell email he sent to the entire company. He even spelled my last name wrong. It’s Holt, not Hott. Was his error a slight against me, a careless typo, or did he sincerely not know my damn name?
My decision to quit my job was rash, but if I stayed then I would forever be known as the woman dumped over email. Despite obsessively planning my exit, I still felt panicky as I handed my resignation letter to my boss. After shaking his hand, I strode down the quiet hallway to the bathroom where, after verifying I was alone, I vomited.
Had I just made a massive mistake? Should my farewell email mention that Ira had once thought a spreadsheet macro was a bigger spreadsheet? Should I even send one?
Back at my desk, I wiped my clammy hands on my pants. I needed to stick to my to-do list. Unfinished business needled me like the constant clicking of a pen. I popped a piece of gum in my mouth, chewed for thirty seconds, and spit it into the trash can. Good as new, kind of.
Query:
Lola Bishop has been to the end of her rope so many times she’s not sure she has enough antidepressants to keep her from tying it into a noose and slipping it around her neck. All she wants is to have a baby and raise a family with her husband, Paul. But their premature son doesn’t make it, and an emergency hysterectomy kills any future dreams of motherhood. More dark days follow in the form of depression and divorce papers. Then she discovers not only has Paul moved in with his young girlfriend, Iris, they’re also expecting a baby – a little boy they name Seth.
But Lola’s got to pull her act together when a car crash kills Paul and Iris and orphans Seth – now a toddler. Iris’s will has some glaring holes, but Paul’s will clearly names Lola as Seth’s guardian. At the same time Iris’s dad, who’s been caring for Seth since the accident, starts building his legal case to contest Paul’s will, Lola ponders whether she’s strong enough to raise the child her ex-husband had with his girlfriend. Steeling her heart, Lola jumps into the legal ring as she and Isaac try to outmaneuver each other in the mother of all custody battles.
First 250:
It was the receptionist at my gynecologist’s office who clued me in that something major was afoot. Not that she said anything in particular – of course she can’t say anything. Medical privacy laws and all. But there’s no privacy law that prohibits a weird, high-pitched tone when calling my name, or an uncomfortable shiftiness palpable across the sliding glass divider.
No, there was no one in the office who said anything during my checkup. But my nurse gave me several odd, sideways glances. And Dr. Marta, the obstetrician who’d walked me through days darker than death, made a telling comment on my way out of the office. As she put her cool, clinical hand on my shoulder, she held it a beat longer than normal and asked: “How’s your friend Brenda these days?”
Brenda Gillis – one of my dearest friends on earth, despite all the crap I’ve put her through – has an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what’s going on in the lives of everyone in Glenhaven without being a busybody. While she flirts with the line of being a gossip, there’s no malice in her methods. Less paparazzi, more society columnist.
I called her immediately from my car. “Where are you?” I asked. “I just left Dr. Marta’s. Her whole staff was acting weird.”
Brenda sighed on the other end. “I’m taking the kiddos to Noodles before their piano lessons,” she said. “Do you want to meet me there? We need to talk.”
VERSUS
Title: Drowning in PerfectEntry Nickname: Three Men and an ActuaryWord Count: 93KGenre: Women’s Commercial Fiction
Query:
Brooke Holt, a twenty-seven-year-old actuary, began her quest for perfection the day her mother walked out of her life. She had been ten, incorrigible, and as far away from perfect as she has ever been.
After her safe, lackluster boyfriend dumps her via a company-wide email, Brooke is unable to cope with the humiliation and flees to Minneapolis for a fresh start. Pressured by an overly helpful coworker, Brooke agrees to rent a basement apartment sight unseen. The three younger, immature men living upstairs are determined to disrupt Brooke’s meticulously crafted life with their teasing, partying, and carefree attitudes.
When her estranged mother reaches out with a wedding invitation after seventeen years of no contact, Brooke views it as the long-awaited opportunity to show her mother she isn’t the stupid, careless child she once was. The only problem is she would rather get a thousand breakup emails than face her mother. Desperate for courage, Brooke turns to the last people she would ever think to ask for help—her rowdy roommates.
The guys rally to help her in their own unique way, which puts her through outlandish challenges such as delivering pickup lines like a pirate, singing in public, and even falling in love. This gauntlet forces her to relinquish control and live in the moment. While their efforts increase her confidence to be herself, she struggles with the vulnerability that comes with letting down her guard.
In the end, she can abandon who she has become to maintain a perfect façade for her mother or embrace the real Brooke and risk losing her mother all over again.
First 250:
And to Brooke Hott, while I enjoyed our time together over the past year, there comes a point when you know a person isn’t THE person, but I wish you all the best.
That gem of a sentence landed in my inbox two weeks earlier, on the Friday before the Christmas holidays, from my boyfriend, Ira. It was the last sentiment in the mass farewell email he sent to the entire company. He even spelled my last name wrong. It’s Holt, not Hott. Was his error a slight against me, a careless typo, or did he sincerely not know my damn name?
My decision to quit my job was rash, but if I stayed then I would forever be known as the woman dumped over email. Despite obsessively planning my exit, I still felt panicky as I handed my resignation letter to my boss. After shaking his hand, I strode down the quiet hallway to the bathroom where, after verifying I was alone, I vomited.
Had I just made a massive mistake? Should my farewell email mention that Ira had once thought a spreadsheet macro was a bigger spreadsheet? Should I even send one?
Back at my desk, I wiped my clammy hands on my pants. I needed to stick to my to-do list. Unfinished business needled me like the constant clicking of a pen. I popped a piece of gum in my mouth, chewed for thirty seconds, and spit it into the trash can. Good as new, kind of.
QK Round 2: Delicious Vicious Cycles vs. I Fell for a Convicted Felon
Title: VERA WITH A VENGEANCEEntry Nickname: Delicious Vicious CyclesWord count: 74KGenre: YA Contemporary, Own Voices
Query:
17-year-old entrepreneur Vera Davis starts a business to sell revenge in VERA WITH A VENGEANCE, a 74,000-word young adult contemporary novel. Vera and I are both Jewish and sexual assault survivors.
When a car accident paralyzes Vera’s college basketball hotshot brother and kills her parents, she's suddenly in charge of the medical bills, the mortgage, and her own anger and helplessness. Vera's always been good at getting back at people who hurt her, but she can’t exactly get revenge on the curve in the road where her father lost control of the car.
Meager insurance payouts leave Vera desperate for money, so she starts a business: when the traditional justice system fails her clients, Vera wrecks wrongdoers’ careers and cars, relationships and reputations. She revels in taking down racists and sexual assaulters, but her crush--her brother’s best friend--thinks her style of vengeance is morally wrong.
Then, while helping a client get payback for a leaked nude picture, Vera finds new evidence about her family’s “accident.” Turns out there is someone for Vera to blame, but the perpetrator had her own very good reason to seek vengeance.
Now Vera must decide whether getting even is worth getting blood on her hands.
First 250:
This creeper keeps staring at me with this little half smile, like he thinks I want his eyes undressing me. His face, all chin and cheekbones, reeks of always getting what he wants—women, money, free drinks in first class en route to Ibiza. I want to walk away, but his wife is shopping for an evening gown, and I need the commission to pay the energy bill.
I focus on her, and hold up a green dress to hide my body. “This would look great with your eyes.”
Her eyes are blue, but the green dress sells well, and if she buys it, I’ll hit the monthly quota for a higher commission percentage. I can only work so much after school, and I have to make the hours count.
She turns to Creeper. “What do you think?”
“I’d like to see more.” His eyes flicker down to my calves and back up to my chest. For all his wife can tell, he’s checking out the dress, but his gaze burns my skin.
I hold the dress higher to cover my breasts and look at my boss for rescue. He mouths work it. If I didn’t need this job so badly…I force myself to smile.
Creeper’s gold smartwatch buzzes, and he glances away from me. Those watches cost ten grand. Ten grand would keep the lights on and pay for three months of the mortgage. Ten grand could keep Levi and me from losing the house our parents raised us in.
VERSUS
Title: Unreasonable Doubts
Entry nickname: I fell for a convicted felon
Word Count: 91,000
Genre: Contemporary Women's Fiction
Query:
29 year-old Liana Cohen is an idealistic public defender fighting to overturn the convictions of her indigent clients, whether they are guilty or innocent. But after several years of standing up for hardened criminals and repeat offenders, she is careening toward burn-out. Her boss has given her an ultimatum: recommit to the mission, or find a new job. Liana would give anything to have one client, just one, whom she can believe in. Someone to reignite her passion for the cause and salvage her career.
In this charged emotional state, Liana's professional struggle spills over to her personal life. While she loves Jakob Weiss, her long-term boyfriend, she's not ready to embrace his self-assured vision of their future together.
Determined to get back on track, Liana pins her hopes on her newest client, Danny Shea, a convicted rapist. Danny's astonishing blend of confidence and vulnerability intrigues Liana, who finds him intelligent, magnetic and compelling. And he could well be innocent.
As their attorney-client relationship transforms into something less than arms-length, Danny painstakingly makes a place for himself in Liana’s world. After Liana wins Danny a reversal on a legal technicality and he is released from prison, she is confronted with a man who is both free and single-minded in his desire to be with her. Danny’s attentions intensify just as Jakob proposes marriage. Liana is forced to choose.
First 250 Words:
July, 2012
Dear Ms. Cohen,
Forgive me for being so direct, but I have no choice.
I need you to do something for me, something that goes beyond just doing your job. I’m begging you to put aside what you think you know about me based upon my conviction and from reading the testimony of the witnesses at trial, and to search out the man behind those words. It’s critical that you know in your heart, as my public defender, but even more so, as a woman, that I couldn’t, and I didn’t, rape Jennifer Nash or anyone else. I need you to believe in me.
My case could have been assigned to any attorney, but I have you. I believe there’s a reason for this, and I know that with you on my side I will emerge from this terrible darkness that has engulfed me since this false accusation was lodged. I pray that you’ll have the courage to stand with me.
Sincerely,
Danny Shea
Who is this guy? Liana wondered.
Chapter 1
“Liana, you have a call on line 1 – Randy Napoli from the New York Law Journal. Want me to ask him what it’s about?”
“No, thanks.You can put him through, Tony,” Liana said. She and Randy had the kind of friendship that sometimes flourishes because both parties know that it exists only in cyberspace and they’ll never actually have to meet. When Randy needed an angle or had a legal question, Liana would provide background information, off the record.
Query:
17-year-old entrepreneur Vera Davis starts a business to sell revenge in VERA WITH A VENGEANCE, a 74,000-word young adult contemporary novel. Vera and I are both Jewish and sexual assault survivors.
When a car accident paralyzes Vera’s college basketball hotshot brother and kills her parents, she's suddenly in charge of the medical bills, the mortgage, and her own anger and helplessness. Vera's always been good at getting back at people who hurt her, but she can’t exactly get revenge on the curve in the road where her father lost control of the car.
Meager insurance payouts leave Vera desperate for money, so she starts a business: when the traditional justice system fails her clients, Vera wrecks wrongdoers’ careers and cars, relationships and reputations. She revels in taking down racists and sexual assaulters, but her crush--her brother’s best friend--thinks her style of vengeance is morally wrong.
Then, while helping a client get payback for a leaked nude picture, Vera finds new evidence about her family’s “accident.” Turns out there is someone for Vera to blame, but the perpetrator had her own very good reason to seek vengeance.
Now Vera must decide whether getting even is worth getting blood on her hands.
First 250:
This creeper keeps staring at me with this little half smile, like he thinks I want his eyes undressing me. His face, all chin and cheekbones, reeks of always getting what he wants—women, money, free drinks in first class en route to Ibiza. I want to walk away, but his wife is shopping for an evening gown, and I need the commission to pay the energy bill.
I focus on her, and hold up a green dress to hide my body. “This would look great with your eyes.”
Her eyes are blue, but the green dress sells well, and if she buys it, I’ll hit the monthly quota for a higher commission percentage. I can only work so much after school, and I have to make the hours count.
She turns to Creeper. “What do you think?”
“I’d like to see more.” His eyes flicker down to my calves and back up to my chest. For all his wife can tell, he’s checking out the dress, but his gaze burns my skin.
I hold the dress higher to cover my breasts and look at my boss for rescue. He mouths work it. If I didn’t need this job so badly…I force myself to smile.
Creeper’s gold smartwatch buzzes, and he glances away from me. Those watches cost ten grand. Ten grand would keep the lights on and pay for three months of the mortgage. Ten grand could keep Levi and me from losing the house our parents raised us in.
VERSUS
Title: Unreasonable Doubts
Entry nickname: I fell for a convicted felon
Word Count: 91,000
Genre: Contemporary Women's Fiction
Query:
29 year-old Liana Cohen is an idealistic public defender fighting to overturn the convictions of her indigent clients, whether they are guilty or innocent. But after several years of standing up for hardened criminals and repeat offenders, she is careening toward burn-out. Her boss has given her an ultimatum: recommit to the mission, or find a new job. Liana would give anything to have one client, just one, whom she can believe in. Someone to reignite her passion for the cause and salvage her career.
In this charged emotional state, Liana's professional struggle spills over to her personal life. While she loves Jakob Weiss, her long-term boyfriend, she's not ready to embrace his self-assured vision of their future together.
Determined to get back on track, Liana pins her hopes on her newest client, Danny Shea, a convicted rapist. Danny's astonishing blend of confidence and vulnerability intrigues Liana, who finds him intelligent, magnetic and compelling. And he could well be innocent.
As their attorney-client relationship transforms into something less than arms-length, Danny painstakingly makes a place for himself in Liana’s world. After Liana wins Danny a reversal on a legal technicality and he is released from prison, she is confronted with a man who is both free and single-minded in his desire to be with her. Danny’s attentions intensify just as Jakob proposes marriage. Liana is forced to choose.
First 250 Words:
July, 2012
Dear Ms. Cohen,
Forgive me for being so direct, but I have no choice.
I need you to do something for me, something that goes beyond just doing your job. I’m begging you to put aside what you think you know about me based upon my conviction and from reading the testimony of the witnesses at trial, and to search out the man behind those words. It’s critical that you know in your heart, as my public defender, but even more so, as a woman, that I couldn’t, and I didn’t, rape Jennifer Nash or anyone else. I need you to believe in me.
My case could have been assigned to any attorney, but I have you. I believe there’s a reason for this, and I know that with you on my side I will emerge from this terrible darkness that has engulfed me since this false accusation was lodged. I pray that you’ll have the courage to stand with me.
Sincerely,
Danny Shea
Who is this guy? Liana wondered.
Chapter 1
“Liana, you have a call on line 1 – Randy Napoli from the New York Law Journal. Want me to ask him what it’s about?”
“No, thanks.You can put him through, Tony,” Liana said. She and Randy had the kind of friendship that sometimes flourishes because both parties know that it exists only in cyberspace and they’ll never actually have to meet. When Randy needed an angle or had a legal question, Liana would provide background information, off the record.
QK Round 2: The Barringer Museum vs. Switcher
Title: We, FreaksEntry Nickname: The Barringer MuseumWord count: 78KGenre: Adult Speculative Fiction
Query:
Sideshow barkers claim the true freak is born, not made. That a pregnant mother’s fascination with an eerie neighborhood dog led to the birth of a fur-faced baby boy, and that a woman’s all-consuming fear of sea serpents etched scales on the fetus growing inside of her.
To Theodore, a museum owner in 1850’s New York City, these boasts and backstories are improbably beginning to resemble truth. And after his museum burns to the ground, he decides he’s willing to pursue any lead if it means restarting his career with a theater of the most astonishing humans the world has ever seen.
In a parallel storyline set in present-day Michigan, zoo ticket seller and PhD candidate Max is grudgingly hosting a scientific study testing if expectant mothers can impress bestial traits on their fetuses through extensive exposure to lions. When Max attempts to quash what he considers to be mockery of science, he’s kidnapped by a collective of unusual humans depending on the study to validate their origin stories.
As Theodore risks his reputation to exploit a folktale, Max contends with the nature of belief as he becomes introduced to a world he hadn’t thought possible. At the center of both stories lie the individuals with fur or gills or multi-colored skin who seek an answer for their bodies, but are instead becoming wrapped up with the lives of men who will never understand their existence.
First 250:
Theodore Barringer had planned to spend his morning crafting an exhibit about a romance between Thomas Jefferson and America’s first swivel chair, but instead, he faced the extraordinary: two women whose natures he could not discern. At Spooner’s and the Eastern Dime Museum, Theodore could always recognize the hoax—the 90 year-old woman boasting 160 years of age, the siblings from Virginia advertising Mayan heritage, the thin men who never weighed as little as they claimed they did… The frauds of humanity were growing commonplace in New York City, but the sisters currently sitting in front of his desk… Yes, they were asking to perform in his museum, and yes, they were identical twins, but they were also beings he’d never once heard rumors of. He knew of giants, Circassian beauties, and wild men, but no humans quite like these—none so completely authentic in their peculiarity.
Because the fascination was more than their twin sisterhood, but rather that the sister on the right explained that with costuming assistance the two could create the illusion of four bodies, yet failed to describe how it was that each sister reflected the other as a live mirror of flesh and movement. How upon the right side of one and the left of the other, their tan skin shrunk into the thin lines of a crooked spider web and broke a reflective, silver coating up into shards. Their reticence made him want to scream out: how had a mirror shattered and fused itself to you, and how could he replicate the effect?
VERSUS
Title: The Switcher ChroniclesEntry Nickname: SwitcherWord Count: 96,000Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy
Query:
Cade Hightower is a professional body switcher, paid to step into a client’s body and take his place in the dentist’s chair or at the in-laws’ dinner table. There are some jobs he won’t do—no pranks, no lie detector tests, and no switching bodies without permission—but he’ll take some risks to keep a good client happy, especially if the price is right.
Cade’s sister Daphne practices the art of injectable magic. She can give a politician a shot of Charisma or soothe a perpetual worrier with a syringe-full of Nonchalance. She has a five-year plan for her career, and she hasn’t noticed that’s it’s left her without much of a life outside of work.
The Hightower siblings have drifted apart in the last ten years, but after their uncle dies, Daphne sets out to repair the estrangement. Unfortunately, Cade’s never forgiven Daphne for putting ambition ahead of family. When their mother got sick and their father ran off, she left him with his no-good uncle. Now she claims she wants to keep him safe in his dangerous job, but where was she when he was a lonely, scared teenager who needed his big sister?
When Cade is hired to find the person swindling rich old people out of their fortunes and their lives, brother and sister run smack into their worst fears. Daphne’s afraid her brother will get killed, leaving her with no family. Cade’s nightmare is losing his own body, stuck for the rest of his life in a stranger’s skin. And their fragile relationship may not survive when the investigation brings their ugly family history into the light.
First 250:
I had been back in my body for twenty-four hours, and the mosquito bite between my shoulder blades itched like a rhino’s hide in a drought. The next time a client took my body camping while I did trust falls at a corporate retreat in his, I was going to add a bug-spray requirement to the contract.
But ignoring annoyances was part of my professional skill set, so I focused on getting the bus washed and ready for my next job, whatever it turned out to be. When the phone rang, I was balanced on an over-sized tire, squeegeeing the giant windshield. I jumped to the asphalt to take the call. The screen said, "Private Name Private Number." I got that a lot.
“Cade Hightower,” I said.
Harlan Ambrose’s voice on the line was deep and quick. “Cade, bro, what’re you doing?”
“Washing the bus, sir.”
“Hey, do me a favor and go inside. Got a job for you.”
I nudged the garden hose that snaked from the bus to a faucet sticking out of the grass. A high school parking lot on a Sunday was as private as the surface of the moon, but arguing with clients was bad for business. With a shrug, I climbed the three steps into the school bus I’d converted into my home. After I settled in the swivel recliner anchored to the floor, I put the phone back to my ear.
“I’m inside, sir. What’s this job?”
Query:
Sideshow barkers claim the true freak is born, not made. That a pregnant mother’s fascination with an eerie neighborhood dog led to the birth of a fur-faced baby boy, and that a woman’s all-consuming fear of sea serpents etched scales on the fetus growing inside of her.
To Theodore, a museum owner in 1850’s New York City, these boasts and backstories are improbably beginning to resemble truth. And after his museum burns to the ground, he decides he’s willing to pursue any lead if it means restarting his career with a theater of the most astonishing humans the world has ever seen.
In a parallel storyline set in present-day Michigan, zoo ticket seller and PhD candidate Max is grudgingly hosting a scientific study testing if expectant mothers can impress bestial traits on their fetuses through extensive exposure to lions. When Max attempts to quash what he considers to be mockery of science, he’s kidnapped by a collective of unusual humans depending on the study to validate their origin stories.
As Theodore risks his reputation to exploit a folktale, Max contends with the nature of belief as he becomes introduced to a world he hadn’t thought possible. At the center of both stories lie the individuals with fur or gills or multi-colored skin who seek an answer for their bodies, but are instead becoming wrapped up with the lives of men who will never understand their existence.
First 250:
Theodore Barringer had planned to spend his morning crafting an exhibit about a romance between Thomas Jefferson and America’s first swivel chair, but instead, he faced the extraordinary: two women whose natures he could not discern. At Spooner’s and the Eastern Dime Museum, Theodore could always recognize the hoax—the 90 year-old woman boasting 160 years of age, the siblings from Virginia advertising Mayan heritage, the thin men who never weighed as little as they claimed they did… The frauds of humanity were growing commonplace in New York City, but the sisters currently sitting in front of his desk… Yes, they were asking to perform in his museum, and yes, they were identical twins, but they were also beings he’d never once heard rumors of. He knew of giants, Circassian beauties, and wild men, but no humans quite like these—none so completely authentic in their peculiarity.
Because the fascination was more than their twin sisterhood, but rather that the sister on the right explained that with costuming assistance the two could create the illusion of four bodies, yet failed to describe how it was that each sister reflected the other as a live mirror of flesh and movement. How upon the right side of one and the left of the other, their tan skin shrunk into the thin lines of a crooked spider web and broke a reflective, silver coating up into shards. Their reticence made him want to scream out: how had a mirror shattered and fused itself to you, and how could he replicate the effect?
VERSUS
Title: The Switcher ChroniclesEntry Nickname: SwitcherWord Count: 96,000Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy
Query:
Cade Hightower is a professional body switcher, paid to step into a client’s body and take his place in the dentist’s chair or at the in-laws’ dinner table. There are some jobs he won’t do—no pranks, no lie detector tests, and no switching bodies without permission—but he’ll take some risks to keep a good client happy, especially if the price is right.
Cade’s sister Daphne practices the art of injectable magic. She can give a politician a shot of Charisma or soothe a perpetual worrier with a syringe-full of Nonchalance. She has a five-year plan for her career, and she hasn’t noticed that’s it’s left her without much of a life outside of work.
The Hightower siblings have drifted apart in the last ten years, but after their uncle dies, Daphne sets out to repair the estrangement. Unfortunately, Cade’s never forgiven Daphne for putting ambition ahead of family. When their mother got sick and their father ran off, she left him with his no-good uncle. Now she claims she wants to keep him safe in his dangerous job, but where was she when he was a lonely, scared teenager who needed his big sister?
When Cade is hired to find the person swindling rich old people out of their fortunes and their lives, brother and sister run smack into their worst fears. Daphne’s afraid her brother will get killed, leaving her with no family. Cade’s nightmare is losing his own body, stuck for the rest of his life in a stranger’s skin. And their fragile relationship may not survive when the investigation brings their ugly family history into the light.
First 250:
I had been back in my body for twenty-four hours, and the mosquito bite between my shoulder blades itched like a rhino’s hide in a drought. The next time a client took my body camping while I did trust falls at a corporate retreat in his, I was going to add a bug-spray requirement to the contract.
But ignoring annoyances was part of my professional skill set, so I focused on getting the bus washed and ready for my next job, whatever it turned out to be. When the phone rang, I was balanced on an over-sized tire, squeegeeing the giant windshield. I jumped to the asphalt to take the call. The screen said, "Private Name Private Number." I got that a lot.
“Cade Hightower,” I said.
Harlan Ambrose’s voice on the line was deep and quick. “Cade, bro, what’re you doing?”
“Washing the bus, sir.”
“Hey, do me a favor and go inside. Got a job for you.”
I nudged the garden hose that snaked from the bus to a faucet sticking out of the grass. A high school parking lot on a Sunday was as private as the surface of the moon, but arguing with clients was bad for business. With a shrug, I climbed the three steps into the school bus I’d converted into my home. After I settled in the swivel recliner anchored to the floor, I put the phone back to my ear.
“I’m inside, sir. What’s this job?”
QK Round 2: Asteroid Snacks vs. Super Powers and Problems
Title: The Crows of Phobos
Entry Nickname: Asteroid Snacks
Word count: 84K
Genre: Adult Science Fiction
Query:
Baku makes rent by doing odd jobs for her landlord and kills time flying her ship around the asteroid belt, hitting up seedy convenience stores for MSG chips. When she runs out of fuel and siphons some from a luxury cruiser, she sets in motion a series of misadventures that permanently alleviate her boredom.
The owner of the cruiser, Genevieve, forces Baku to pay for the fuel she stole. The only object of value Baku has is a silver coin she keeps as a good luck charm. Baku hands over her Siriusan denarius that, unbeknown to either of them, is worth millions of Ganymede Guilders.
The coin isn’t just valuable, it’s trouble. Possessing it leads Genevieve into the hands of paranoid but affable crime lord, Erik. Baku rescues her, and a friendship develops between the two women, but their subsequent attempts to evade Erik lead them into the world of forgery and organized crime.
When Erik captures Baku and holds her ransom, Genevieve forges art to secure her release. But Erik needs more than just art. He needs scapegoats to take the fall for the interstellar revolution he’s fomented by supporting two opposing sides of a Siriusan political conflict, and he isn’t afraid to doom Genevieve and Baku in his stead. Baku and Genevieve must ascertain his plans and subvert them or they’ll be captured and shipped off to Sirius.
First 250:
The Fly n’ Buy mechanic lay hibernating behind the checkout counter, his segmented body curled into a ball, his hundred eyestalks gently entwined. Above the till hung a sign that read ‘Pump Out Of Order.’
Baku shrugged off her irritation at having flown there for nothing. At least she’d gotten out of the house and filled a few of the many empty hours.
She roamed the dim aisles, loading her hand basket with gummy worms, condensed potato starch chips, and a stale, greasy donut from a rotating hotdog heater. The Aldebaranians who worked this asteroid outpost never knew quite what to make of human food. They roasted coffee beans in the popcorn popper and dumped buckets of cold, gelatinous soup in the slushy machine.
Baku placed her basket on the counter. She fished in her coat pockets for coins and dropped a handful in front of the till. A Cordelian thaler and two Callisto rupees tinkled onto the silicon countertop.
The clerk trained one eyestalk on the coins, then on Baku. He motioned with a claw for more.
Baku dug deep in an inner pocket and found an Io yuan beneath a lump of lint. She dropped it beside the other coins. The clerk scooped the money into the till and placed the items in a bag, donut first.
“Thank you,” Baku said, having acquired all the accoutrements of identity she could afford. Maybe one day she’d spring for a soup slushy.
The clerk replied with a grunt that wasn’t altogether unfriendly.
VERSUS
Title: Engine of ChangeEntry Nickname: Super Powers and ProblemsWord Count: 100KGenre: Adult SciFi
Query
Seeing twenty-seven-year-old Jenna downing shots at the local dive bar, you’d never guess she was once the feared supervillain Engine. That’s because everyone knows Engine is dead, just like the rest of the Specials–the teens who ten years ago tried to take over the world.
Or so the old fabricated headlines read. Jenna would tell you she and her friends were trying to help.
Burdened with anger and guilt over being the last of her kind, all Jenna wants is to be left alone in the secret life she’s pieced together in New York City. That dream dies when the man who created the plague that eradicated the Specials threatens humanity with a new strain of the virus, and a government agency aware Jenna survived demands her help. Help she has no intention of providing until they blackmail her with the only thing she would care about: secretly held survivors of the original infection.
Now Jenna must overcome her demons, revive the leader she was, and save the world. After suffering through the genocide committed against her people, she's not sure she can. Or should.First 250 words
The worst thing about having gained immortality at sixteen was being treated like a scamming teenager any time I wanted a fucking drink.
“ID,” Jimmy said as I climbed into the rust-red swivel seat at the middle of the bar. He leaned over the stained bar top and eyed me like I’d trailed dog shit in on my shoe.
I ripped open my wallet, nearly knocking over a half-empty glass of skunky swill someone had abandoned. “I’ve been in here a hundred times. Why are you still being a tool about this?”
Jimmy flicked his bald head up and to the right, at the fist-sized black camera aimed at the bar. His engorged belly swung around under his blue sweat-soaked t-shirt. “Because I still don’t buy that you’re twenty-two, Jenna.”
He was right, I wasn’t twenty-two. I was twenty-seven, but got carded everywhere. I couldn’t even buy cigarettes without catching grief. Immunity to physical addiction was a nice perk to the whole doesn’t-age-or-get-sick thing, though. Take that, Philip Morris and Anheuser-Busch.
I yanked out my well-fabricated driver’s license and passed it over. Jimmy looked at it just long enough to satisfy a judge, and handed it back. “The usual? Beer and a bourbon shot?”
I nodded and jammed my ID back into my wallet.
The place was pretty empty; only three sad sacks scattered around, hunched in shadows, nursing their regrets. Of course it was a Tuesday at five PM and the place was a dump.
Entry Nickname: Asteroid Snacks
Word count: 84K
Genre: Adult Science Fiction
Query:
Baku makes rent by doing odd jobs for her landlord and kills time flying her ship around the asteroid belt, hitting up seedy convenience stores for MSG chips. When she runs out of fuel and siphons some from a luxury cruiser, she sets in motion a series of misadventures that permanently alleviate her boredom.
The owner of the cruiser, Genevieve, forces Baku to pay for the fuel she stole. The only object of value Baku has is a silver coin she keeps as a good luck charm. Baku hands over her Siriusan denarius that, unbeknown to either of them, is worth millions of Ganymede Guilders.
The coin isn’t just valuable, it’s trouble. Possessing it leads Genevieve into the hands of paranoid but affable crime lord, Erik. Baku rescues her, and a friendship develops between the two women, but their subsequent attempts to evade Erik lead them into the world of forgery and organized crime.
When Erik captures Baku and holds her ransom, Genevieve forges art to secure her release. But Erik needs more than just art. He needs scapegoats to take the fall for the interstellar revolution he’s fomented by supporting two opposing sides of a Siriusan political conflict, and he isn’t afraid to doom Genevieve and Baku in his stead. Baku and Genevieve must ascertain his plans and subvert them or they’ll be captured and shipped off to Sirius.
First 250:
The Fly n’ Buy mechanic lay hibernating behind the checkout counter, his segmented body curled into a ball, his hundred eyestalks gently entwined. Above the till hung a sign that read ‘Pump Out Of Order.’
Baku shrugged off her irritation at having flown there for nothing. At least she’d gotten out of the house and filled a few of the many empty hours.
She roamed the dim aisles, loading her hand basket with gummy worms, condensed potato starch chips, and a stale, greasy donut from a rotating hotdog heater. The Aldebaranians who worked this asteroid outpost never knew quite what to make of human food. They roasted coffee beans in the popcorn popper and dumped buckets of cold, gelatinous soup in the slushy machine.
Baku placed her basket on the counter. She fished in her coat pockets for coins and dropped a handful in front of the till. A Cordelian thaler and two Callisto rupees tinkled onto the silicon countertop.
The clerk trained one eyestalk on the coins, then on Baku. He motioned with a claw for more.
Baku dug deep in an inner pocket and found an Io yuan beneath a lump of lint. She dropped it beside the other coins. The clerk scooped the money into the till and placed the items in a bag, donut first.
“Thank you,” Baku said, having acquired all the accoutrements of identity she could afford. Maybe one day she’d spring for a soup slushy.
The clerk replied with a grunt that wasn’t altogether unfriendly.
VERSUS
Title: Engine of ChangeEntry Nickname: Super Powers and ProblemsWord Count: 100KGenre: Adult SciFi
Query
Seeing twenty-seven-year-old Jenna downing shots at the local dive bar, you’d never guess she was once the feared supervillain Engine. That’s because everyone knows Engine is dead, just like the rest of the Specials–the teens who ten years ago tried to take over the world.
Or so the old fabricated headlines read. Jenna would tell you she and her friends were trying to help.
Burdened with anger and guilt over being the last of her kind, all Jenna wants is to be left alone in the secret life she’s pieced together in New York City. That dream dies when the man who created the plague that eradicated the Specials threatens humanity with a new strain of the virus, and a government agency aware Jenna survived demands her help. Help she has no intention of providing until they blackmail her with the only thing she would care about: secretly held survivors of the original infection.
Now Jenna must overcome her demons, revive the leader she was, and save the world. After suffering through the genocide committed against her people, she's not sure she can. Or should.First 250 words
The worst thing about having gained immortality at sixteen was being treated like a scamming teenager any time I wanted a fucking drink.
“ID,” Jimmy said as I climbed into the rust-red swivel seat at the middle of the bar. He leaned over the stained bar top and eyed me like I’d trailed dog shit in on my shoe.
I ripped open my wallet, nearly knocking over a half-empty glass of skunky swill someone had abandoned. “I’ve been in here a hundred times. Why are you still being a tool about this?”
Jimmy flicked his bald head up and to the right, at the fist-sized black camera aimed at the bar. His engorged belly swung around under his blue sweat-soaked t-shirt. “Because I still don’t buy that you’re twenty-two, Jenna.”
He was right, I wasn’t twenty-two. I was twenty-seven, but got carded everywhere. I couldn’t even buy cigarettes without catching grief. Immunity to physical addiction was a nice perk to the whole doesn’t-age-or-get-sick thing, though. Take that, Philip Morris and Anheuser-Busch.
I yanked out my well-fabricated driver’s license and passed it over. Jimmy looked at it just long enough to satisfy a judge, and handed it back. “The usual? Beer and a bourbon shot?”
I nodded and jammed my ID back into my wallet.
The place was pretty empty; only three sad sacks scattered around, hunched in shadows, nursing their regrets. Of course it was a Tuesday at five PM and the place was a dump.
QK Round 2: Girl of Your Nightmares vs. Cheshire Hearts Alice!
Title: LucidEntry Nickname: Girl of Your NightmaresWord Count: 93KGenre: YA Psychological Suspense (ownvoices)
Query:
All Marlowe wants is control. Of herself, of her environment, and most importantly, of the people around her. When an attempt to prove the strength of her self-control through sleep deprivation lands Marlowe in the infirmary of The Diana Banesbury School for Exceptional Young Women, she crosses paths with Gwyn, Sloane, and Ellie. Gwyn, who developed major depression after the death of her brother, wants closure she’ll never get. Sloane, recovering from a black eye, wants an adventure to save her from the monotony of her daily life. Ellie, a student volunteer who recently transferred from her small hometown to the exclusive girl’s boarding school, just wants friends to make the adjustment easier.
When Ellie offers lucid dreaming—the ability to control one’s dreams—as an unconventional solution to each of their problems, Marlowe sees a better opportunity. Under the pretext of a club for learning lucid dreaming, Marlowe convinces the girls to move to an abandoned classroom in the woods around the school, aiming to gain control by gaslighting and manipulating them until they’re incapable of differentiating reality from dream. As Gwyn, Sloane, and Ellie question their identities, realities, and the lies Marlowe has bound them with, they must find a way to wake themselves from her influence before they reach the end of a path leading to psychological destruction and death.
LUCID is told from both the perspective of Marlowe, as she manipulates the girls, and Gwyn, Sloane, and Ellie, as they attempt to resist Marlowe’s manipulation. It contains #ownvoices elements, including an LGBT ensemble cast and a protagonist struggling with major depression.
First 250:
People didn’t tend to believe that insects had free will, but Marlowe never doubted. If something had free will, she could control it. The fly was no exception.
Marlowe was halfway through the second day of her vigil when the fly landed on the bulb of the green shaded lamp on her bedside table. The rest of the girls in the dormitory were asleep, which left Marlowe alone with the dark, the quiet, and the long wooden room with its vaulted ceilings and double rows of beds. She was wearing her favorite silk pajamas and doing fairly well considering it’d been nearly three days since she last slept.
She watched the fly intently, the way its filmy wings shuddered, how it threaded its spindly, segmented arms back and forth through its proboscis whenever it took a break from its paces along the surface of the hot glass. Once they’d been properly acquainted, Marlowe devoted her thin morning hours to mentally coaxing it in one direction or the other, “Come here,” “Go there,” over and over again.
Most of the time, it wouldn’t. But on the rare occasion that its movements aligned with her mental command, she became re-energized by the illusion that her will had been so strong that the insect had been unable to resist, that the sheer force of her own thoughts had pushed it back onto the glass bulb when it wandered off. She indulged in the fantasy that this small, fragile thing would burn itself alive if she wanted it.
VERSUS
Title: FEMSLASHEntry Nickname: Cheshire Hearts Alice!Word count: 70kGenre: YA Contemporary #ownvoices bisexual, mental health
Query:
Rhodes Ingram never thought she'd peak at seventeen. She's dedicated six years of her life to her education as a visual arts track student at Alabama Fine Arts Academy, but depression threatens to undermine all her work. In spite of an empty portfolio and plummeting grades, Rhodes has one last shot at success: The Birmingham Arts Collective's New Horizon Scholarship.
Iliana Vrionides has spent the last two school years struggling to prove she deserves to even darken AFAA’s doorstep. What she lacks in technical ability, she makes up with ferocious commitment to creative expression. But when her parents lose her college savings in bankruptcy court, a last-minute scholarship may be the only chance she has left.
By day, Iliana and Rhodes tear each other down to the studs as they compete for the same scholarship. By night they unknowingly piece each other together again through Slashspot, their school’s anonymous fan fiction community. Then, Iliana’s laptop is stolen by an online bully who knows way too much to be a stranger, and before long their steamy relationship becomes public knowledge. The senior show looms on the horizon, the scholarship hangs in the balance, and when their identities are revealed, both girls must reconcile their love for each other online with their combative relationship in real life.
250:
Iliana Vrionides rests a hand on the curve of my shoulder, and a singular dimple emerges when she smirks. To anyone watching at a distance, this would look like friendship.
This has never been about friendship.
Studio B’s windows are wide as they are tall, bathing the room in glorious, priceless natural light. Air conditioning rattles in the exposed pipes overhead, and Iliana's breath curls hot in the shell of my ear.
“The difference between a dog walking all over a canvas with paint on his feet and a human doing the same thing is creative expression.” She gestures to the sketch pad that sits across my knees. It’s embarrassingly empty, devoid of anything save a few sketches in the corner.
Every day, we take seats across from one another in Drawing III. We spend seventy-five minutes glaring over the tops of our sketch pads at one another, ignoring Benjamin Talley’s blathering, endless artistic direction. In spite of this, Iliana manages to churn out one sketch after the next, light-handed and fluid and the kind of technique that’s carefully hidden beneath what she’d call personal style. Her voice.
Every day, I pray the Lord smites her ass straight off the face of the Earth.
Each prayer is a reminder that God doesn’t listen to me.
“I don’t draw.” A class-mandatory 2b pencil with a blue shaft rolls between my fingers, and I fix my gaze on the purple ponytail in front of me.
This is a lie.
Query:
All Marlowe wants is control. Of herself, of her environment, and most importantly, of the people around her. When an attempt to prove the strength of her self-control through sleep deprivation lands Marlowe in the infirmary of The Diana Banesbury School for Exceptional Young Women, she crosses paths with Gwyn, Sloane, and Ellie. Gwyn, who developed major depression after the death of her brother, wants closure she’ll never get. Sloane, recovering from a black eye, wants an adventure to save her from the monotony of her daily life. Ellie, a student volunteer who recently transferred from her small hometown to the exclusive girl’s boarding school, just wants friends to make the adjustment easier.
When Ellie offers lucid dreaming—the ability to control one’s dreams—as an unconventional solution to each of their problems, Marlowe sees a better opportunity. Under the pretext of a club for learning lucid dreaming, Marlowe convinces the girls to move to an abandoned classroom in the woods around the school, aiming to gain control by gaslighting and manipulating them until they’re incapable of differentiating reality from dream. As Gwyn, Sloane, and Ellie question their identities, realities, and the lies Marlowe has bound them with, they must find a way to wake themselves from her influence before they reach the end of a path leading to psychological destruction and death.
LUCID is told from both the perspective of Marlowe, as she manipulates the girls, and Gwyn, Sloane, and Ellie, as they attempt to resist Marlowe’s manipulation. It contains #ownvoices elements, including an LGBT ensemble cast and a protagonist struggling with major depression.
First 250:
People didn’t tend to believe that insects had free will, but Marlowe never doubted. If something had free will, she could control it. The fly was no exception.
Marlowe was halfway through the second day of her vigil when the fly landed on the bulb of the green shaded lamp on her bedside table. The rest of the girls in the dormitory were asleep, which left Marlowe alone with the dark, the quiet, and the long wooden room with its vaulted ceilings and double rows of beds. She was wearing her favorite silk pajamas and doing fairly well considering it’d been nearly three days since she last slept.
She watched the fly intently, the way its filmy wings shuddered, how it threaded its spindly, segmented arms back and forth through its proboscis whenever it took a break from its paces along the surface of the hot glass. Once they’d been properly acquainted, Marlowe devoted her thin morning hours to mentally coaxing it in one direction or the other, “Come here,” “Go there,” over and over again.
Most of the time, it wouldn’t. But on the rare occasion that its movements aligned with her mental command, she became re-energized by the illusion that her will had been so strong that the insect had been unable to resist, that the sheer force of her own thoughts had pushed it back onto the glass bulb when it wandered off. She indulged in the fantasy that this small, fragile thing would burn itself alive if she wanted it.
VERSUS
Title: FEMSLASHEntry Nickname: Cheshire Hearts Alice!Word count: 70kGenre: YA Contemporary #ownvoices bisexual, mental health
Query:
Rhodes Ingram never thought she'd peak at seventeen. She's dedicated six years of her life to her education as a visual arts track student at Alabama Fine Arts Academy, but depression threatens to undermine all her work. In spite of an empty portfolio and plummeting grades, Rhodes has one last shot at success: The Birmingham Arts Collective's New Horizon Scholarship.
Iliana Vrionides has spent the last two school years struggling to prove she deserves to even darken AFAA’s doorstep. What she lacks in technical ability, she makes up with ferocious commitment to creative expression. But when her parents lose her college savings in bankruptcy court, a last-minute scholarship may be the only chance she has left.
By day, Iliana and Rhodes tear each other down to the studs as they compete for the same scholarship. By night they unknowingly piece each other together again through Slashspot, their school’s anonymous fan fiction community. Then, Iliana’s laptop is stolen by an online bully who knows way too much to be a stranger, and before long their steamy relationship becomes public knowledge. The senior show looms on the horizon, the scholarship hangs in the balance, and when their identities are revealed, both girls must reconcile their love for each other online with their combative relationship in real life.
250:
Iliana Vrionides rests a hand on the curve of my shoulder, and a singular dimple emerges when she smirks. To anyone watching at a distance, this would look like friendship.
This has never been about friendship.
Studio B’s windows are wide as they are tall, bathing the room in glorious, priceless natural light. Air conditioning rattles in the exposed pipes overhead, and Iliana's breath curls hot in the shell of my ear.
“The difference between a dog walking all over a canvas with paint on his feet and a human doing the same thing is creative expression.” She gestures to the sketch pad that sits across my knees. It’s embarrassingly empty, devoid of anything save a few sketches in the corner.
Every day, we take seats across from one another in Drawing III. We spend seventy-five minutes glaring over the tops of our sketch pads at one another, ignoring Benjamin Talley’s blathering, endless artistic direction. In spite of this, Iliana manages to churn out one sketch after the next, light-handed and fluid and the kind of technique that’s carefully hidden beneath what she’d call personal style. Her voice.
Every day, I pray the Lord smites her ass straight off the face of the Earth.
Each prayer is a reminder that God doesn’t listen to me.
“I don’t draw.” A class-mandatory 2b pencil with a blue shaft rolls between my fingers, and I fix my gaze on the purple ponytail in front of me.
This is a lie.
QK Round 2: Nowhere Land vs. Estella +Ayron
Title: FOLLOW THE SUNEntry Title: Nowhere LandWord Count: 78,000Genre: #ownvoices historical YA (MC is biracial w/ black father, white mother)
Query:
In 1969, Rett syndrome is unheard of. But come hell or high water, Jackie is determined to discover the reason why her four-year-old sister, Evie, suddenly lost the ability to speak and control her hands. Her parents accept their small town doctor’s generic diagnosis that Evie was born with physical and mental impairments and will remain “slow” her entire life. Jackie doesn’t buy it. Evie wasn’t born that way; she regressed just before turning two. So, Jackie spends months secretly mailing letters to various doctors around the country, convinced that if she can find one expert with a possible explanation for Evie’s symptoms, it will force her parents down a path toward determining the cause.
That’s a lot to handle for a seventeen-year-old, though, and no amount of getting drunk with her flower child friends, flirting with a guy who’s caught her eye, or fighting with her June Cleaver-ish mother keeps Evie’s condition from constantly gnawing away at the back of Jackie’s mind. When she finally hears of a doctor in Austria who might have an answer to the riddle that is Evie, Jackie’s world begins to brighten. But, Evie’s disability becomes too much for her mother and father to handle, and they make plans to institutionalize her in another state.
Disgusted with her parents’ cruel plan, Jackie takes off on a planned trip to the Woodstock music festival with her friends. What they don’t know, however, is that she has no intention of returning with them. If Evie won’t be in Everton, Jackie can’t be either. But, the guilt of leaving weighs heavily on her mind. As Woodstock ends, Jackie must decide to find a new life elsewhere or return home to advocate for her sister and fight her parents in a decision she knows is not hers to make.
Written as a series of flashbacks during Jackie’s time at Woodstock, FOLLOW THE SUN brings attention to Rett syndrome, a rare and debilitating genetic neurological disorder discovered in 1966 that, as Jackie discovers, has no known cure. The search for an accurate diagnosis affects every single member of a family. This is a frustration I know all too well, as my own daughter, originally misdiagnosed with autism, was finally correctly diagnosed with Rett syndrome when she was three. This is also an #ownvoices manuscript, as Jackie and I are both biracial.
First 250:
Woodstock Music & Art Fair, August 1969Day One – Late Afternoon
I inhale the scents of lost inhibitions disguised as weed and booze. They’re so thick it’s as if I can reach out and touch them; literally get a contact high. After hours of waiting, the music’s finally starting. For most, time has no place here. You simply exist. It is today. The time is now. And it’s all good. But my mind flickers like the flashes of a camera between photos of the before and the after. The past and the present. The agony that brought me to this point and where it might lead me in the future.
Between Evie and this field full of strangers.
The odors surrounding me vanish, replaced by the memory of more comforting aromas: cookies and apple juice. I smile, in spite of myself. But those thoughts angle my mind toward others that curdle my stomach, like Evie at the supper table with my parents, her hands wringing all over themselves. I’m not there as I should be, and she doesn’t understand why. The image of her face in my head makes each beat of my heart push my chest one notch higher on my personal threshold of pain. Like some great chasm has cracked along my sternum, leaking a burning fire through the rest of my body.
I ache to see her, but I can’t go back home. Not after what I found out. Not after what I learned.
I swear I’ll never go back to Everton.
VERSUS
Title: Secrets in the StoneEntry Nickname: ESTELLA+AYRONWord Count: 77,000Genre: YA Historical Fiction
QUERY:
In 1912, eighteen-year-old Estella Ripley would rather study nude portraits in Paris than bow to the conventional duties her vain, judgmental aunt has deemed important. After another argument with her aunt, Estella makes plans to live in Paris, away from the family's eerie island manor that boasts peculiar perspiring stone walls and an ominous underground passage. But Paris is not in her future, because she learns she has inherited her beloved grandfather's estate nearly a decade after his death – and the estate is in financial trouble.
With her plans for Paris now at a halt, Estella grapples with the difficulties of running the large manor on her own. She enlists the help of the estate's enigmatic attorney, Edward Maxwell, whose trustworthy assistance attracts her to him. When Estella discovers that Edward is conspiring with her aunt to usurp Ripley Manor by marriage to Estella, she flees, unable to face the betrayal of the only person she trusted.
Before she can get to Paris, Estella's boat capsizes, and she discovers a secluded glen in the middle of a remote forest where several clans of Irish fugitives have built homes and thrived for nearly a century. Estella befriends the Irish and, through keen insight and her affinity for interloping, they confess the glen's history is directly related to her grandfather. But when Edward Maxwell tracks down Estella to reveal that he, too, has discovered the glen's secrets and will use them to blackmail her into marriage, Estella must decide: yield to a restricted albeit financially stable life with Edward pulling all the strings, or find a way to extinguish his control before he exposes and destroys every precious secret her grandfather left her to protect.
250:
Stabbing someone was a messy endeavor. Still, it got the job done.
Admittedly, the closest Estella Ripley would ever dare come to touching her aunt was in her imagination, where she could plunge the tip of her mechanical pencil into Florence's chest. But since the woman had no heart, this would be rather ineffective. Stabbing her in the stomach would prove futile, as her whalebone corset would likely obstruct any puncture. A pencil to the neck might work—
No, Estella, she scolded herself. You are not her. You are better than Florence.
"Mrs. Allchurch will attend your party tonight," Florence said. They sat for tea in the chilly, stiff drawing room. "We'll have to open the double doors just to enable the entrance of that Clydesdale of a woman."
Estella bit her tongue, as she had for the past ten years in her aunt's presence. She promised herself she would not engage in this game of ignorance; it was too easy to become Florence, too easy to veer toward that clear, spiteful path. Estella must endure just a few months more until she was free of her aunt's hideous lacework of self-righteousness. Vicious daydreaming would only make Estella resemble Florence, which was the last thing Estella wanted.
Yet if her aunt could get away with murder, then so could Estella…
"Thank you for joining me, Niece. I see you so rarely. You're always tucked away somewhere with that pencil drawing God knows what. Sometimes I feel we live in separate residences."
If only, Estella mused.
Query:
In 1969, Rett syndrome is unheard of. But come hell or high water, Jackie is determined to discover the reason why her four-year-old sister, Evie, suddenly lost the ability to speak and control her hands. Her parents accept their small town doctor’s generic diagnosis that Evie was born with physical and mental impairments and will remain “slow” her entire life. Jackie doesn’t buy it. Evie wasn’t born that way; she regressed just before turning two. So, Jackie spends months secretly mailing letters to various doctors around the country, convinced that if she can find one expert with a possible explanation for Evie’s symptoms, it will force her parents down a path toward determining the cause.
That’s a lot to handle for a seventeen-year-old, though, and no amount of getting drunk with her flower child friends, flirting with a guy who’s caught her eye, or fighting with her June Cleaver-ish mother keeps Evie’s condition from constantly gnawing away at the back of Jackie’s mind. When she finally hears of a doctor in Austria who might have an answer to the riddle that is Evie, Jackie’s world begins to brighten. But, Evie’s disability becomes too much for her mother and father to handle, and they make plans to institutionalize her in another state.
Disgusted with her parents’ cruel plan, Jackie takes off on a planned trip to the Woodstock music festival with her friends. What they don’t know, however, is that she has no intention of returning with them. If Evie won’t be in Everton, Jackie can’t be either. But, the guilt of leaving weighs heavily on her mind. As Woodstock ends, Jackie must decide to find a new life elsewhere or return home to advocate for her sister and fight her parents in a decision she knows is not hers to make.
Written as a series of flashbacks during Jackie’s time at Woodstock, FOLLOW THE SUN brings attention to Rett syndrome, a rare and debilitating genetic neurological disorder discovered in 1966 that, as Jackie discovers, has no known cure. The search for an accurate diagnosis affects every single member of a family. This is a frustration I know all too well, as my own daughter, originally misdiagnosed with autism, was finally correctly diagnosed with Rett syndrome when she was three. This is also an #ownvoices manuscript, as Jackie and I are both biracial.
First 250:
Woodstock Music & Art Fair, August 1969Day One – Late Afternoon
I inhale the scents of lost inhibitions disguised as weed and booze. They’re so thick it’s as if I can reach out and touch them; literally get a contact high. After hours of waiting, the music’s finally starting. For most, time has no place here. You simply exist. It is today. The time is now. And it’s all good. But my mind flickers like the flashes of a camera between photos of the before and the after. The past and the present. The agony that brought me to this point and where it might lead me in the future.
Between Evie and this field full of strangers.
The odors surrounding me vanish, replaced by the memory of more comforting aromas: cookies and apple juice. I smile, in spite of myself. But those thoughts angle my mind toward others that curdle my stomach, like Evie at the supper table with my parents, her hands wringing all over themselves. I’m not there as I should be, and she doesn’t understand why. The image of her face in my head makes each beat of my heart push my chest one notch higher on my personal threshold of pain. Like some great chasm has cracked along my sternum, leaking a burning fire through the rest of my body.
I ache to see her, but I can’t go back home. Not after what I found out. Not after what I learned.
I swear I’ll never go back to Everton.
VERSUS
Title: Secrets in the StoneEntry Nickname: ESTELLA+AYRONWord Count: 77,000Genre: YA Historical Fiction
QUERY:
In 1912, eighteen-year-old Estella Ripley would rather study nude portraits in Paris than bow to the conventional duties her vain, judgmental aunt has deemed important. After another argument with her aunt, Estella makes plans to live in Paris, away from the family's eerie island manor that boasts peculiar perspiring stone walls and an ominous underground passage. But Paris is not in her future, because she learns she has inherited her beloved grandfather's estate nearly a decade after his death – and the estate is in financial trouble.
With her plans for Paris now at a halt, Estella grapples with the difficulties of running the large manor on her own. She enlists the help of the estate's enigmatic attorney, Edward Maxwell, whose trustworthy assistance attracts her to him. When Estella discovers that Edward is conspiring with her aunt to usurp Ripley Manor by marriage to Estella, she flees, unable to face the betrayal of the only person she trusted.
Before she can get to Paris, Estella's boat capsizes, and she discovers a secluded glen in the middle of a remote forest where several clans of Irish fugitives have built homes and thrived for nearly a century. Estella befriends the Irish and, through keen insight and her affinity for interloping, they confess the glen's history is directly related to her grandfather. But when Edward Maxwell tracks down Estella to reveal that he, too, has discovered the glen's secrets and will use them to blackmail her into marriage, Estella must decide: yield to a restricted albeit financially stable life with Edward pulling all the strings, or find a way to extinguish his control before he exposes and destroys every precious secret her grandfather left her to protect.
250:
Stabbing someone was a messy endeavor. Still, it got the job done.
Admittedly, the closest Estella Ripley would ever dare come to touching her aunt was in her imagination, where she could plunge the tip of her mechanical pencil into Florence's chest. But since the woman had no heart, this would be rather ineffective. Stabbing her in the stomach would prove futile, as her whalebone corset would likely obstruct any puncture. A pencil to the neck might work—
No, Estella, she scolded herself. You are not her. You are better than Florence.
"Mrs. Allchurch will attend your party tonight," Florence said. They sat for tea in the chilly, stiff drawing room. "We'll have to open the double doors just to enable the entrance of that Clydesdale of a woman."
Estella bit her tongue, as she had for the past ten years in her aunt's presence. She promised herself she would not engage in this game of ignorance; it was too easy to become Florence, too easy to veer toward that clear, spiteful path. Estella must endure just a few months more until she was free of her aunt's hideous lacework of self-righteousness. Vicious daydreaming would only make Estella resemble Florence, which was the last thing Estella wanted.
Yet if her aunt could get away with murder, then so could Estella…
"Thank you for joining me, Niece. I see you so rarely. You're always tucked away somewhere with that pencil drawing God knows what. Sometimes I feel we live in separate residences."
If only, Estella mused.
QK Round 2: Perfectly Imperfect Princess vs. Bust the Bubble Wrap
Title: Penelope Charming and the Poisoned Glass SlippersEntry Nickname: Perfectly Imperfect PrincessWord Count: 53KGenre: Middle Grade Fantasy
Query:
Twelve-year-old Princess Penelope, daughter of Cinderella, has a “charmed life.” Closets full of ruffly dresses (itchy), classes at the prestigious Charming Academy (boring), and her very own fairy godmother (annoying). Penelope would trade them all for her mother’s signature on an adventure slip to travel outside the castle walls. Too bad Cinderella refuses to sign.
Exploring secret passages and games of capture-the-frog are fun, but when a rival princess dares Penelope to steal her mother’s glass slippers, her craving for adventure results in shattered shoes days before the annual ball. Smashed slippers are small peas to Penelope, but to a villain plotting the end to her mother’s Happily Ever After, it’s a perfectly twisted opportunity. The replacement glass slippers are poisoned, casting Cinderella into a deathly slumber.
Determined to save her mother’s life, Penelope searches for the origin of the mysterious poison. Once upon a time, an antidote existed. Lucky for Penelope, her new friend Jack may know where to find it. With Jack’s promise to guide them, Penelope and her best friend, Red, sneak out of the castle walls to travel into the forbidden Beanstalk Forest. Penelope’s wish to explore Fablewood becomes a race to find the antidote ingredients to wake her mother before she sleeps forever after.
First 250:
Glass slippers made terrible frog-capturing shoes. I kicked them off my feet, shoved my slingshot through my sash, and dropped to the mud to peer through the rose bush. A small frog lay stretched out on the edge of the wishing well, belly up to the sun.
Once upon a time, a princess ventured through the wilds of Fablewood…
I squeezed under the bush, but a thorn snagged the frilly hem of my dress, tearing the fabric with a loud rip. I froze.
The frog stretched his scrawny arms, wiggled a teeny bit, and flopped his arms back onto the stones. He hadn't heard me. The frog was mine.
The brave princess had climbed tall towers, outrun villains, trudged through swamps…
Squelching stealthily through the mud, I crawled to the well and paused.
One happily ever after...two happily ever after...three happily ever after.
She was Princess Penelope, daughter of Cinderella. One slimy beastie was no match for her.
“Surrender!” I sprang to my feet. A frog-shaped blotch glistened on the stones. “Rotten peas!”
As I leaned over the well, the frog leaped from his hiding spot beside a broken stone and onto my shoulder. He poked my cheek with a twig.
“Gotcha, Princess Penelope!”
I glared into his scum-colored googley eyes. “Phib! When did you know I was coming?”
“I saw you leave the castle doors.” Phib flourished the twig like a fencing sword, bowed, and strolled down my arm to the well. The dank smell of algae mixed with jasmine tickled my nose: eau de Phib.
VERSUS
Title: Super Weenie
Entry Name: Bust the Bubble Wrap
Word Count: 48,000
Genre: MG Contemporary; OwnVoices (Allergy/Anaphylaxis)
Query:
Eleven-year-old SAFFRON LEWIS wants to be a regular kid, but her life-threatening food allergies, medical alert bracelet and ever-present EpiPen make her feel like a weirdo. The nickname assigned by her older brother when she was two years old isn't helping matters. She swallowed one bite of nutty Halloween candy, turned the same shade of blue as her tiny-kid superhero costume, and he's called her Super Weenie ever since.
Saffy's hyper-protective mother has managed to keep her safe since then. But to Saffy, the rules, regulations and restrictions feel like bubble wrap. And she’s ready to burst free from her restraints and that dorktastic alter ego. Saffy's starting middle school, and she's got a plan: Pretend to be Perfectly Normal.
Everything goes fine… until she eats one bite of a supposedly safe cookie during a class party and goes into anaphylactic shock. She jolts awake in an ambulance. Time for a new plan: Survive Sixth Grade.
After the latest medical scare, her mother isn't convinced Saffy can protect herself, so she demands the school enact a restrictive food policy to keep Saffy safe. Before long angry protestors are waving picket signs in front of her school in opposition to the food ban. Saffy's classmates choose sides. Her locker mate Madison is firmly against the ban, and devotes herself to making Saffy’s life totally un-fun. She calls Saffy Nut Girl, labels her defective, and tricks everyone into thinking Saffy's having another allergic reaction just to freak out Saffy's friends.
Saffy discovers the key to surviving middle school -- to surviving life as a kid with allergies -- isn't escaping her Super Weenie persona, but embracing it. She just has to figure out how to stand up to Madison, ensure the school nurse never has to unholster another one of her EpiPens, and convince her mom to pack away the bubble wrap for good. This calls for Saffy's boldest plan yet: Super Weenie Rescues Herself.
First 250:
The click-clack of Mom's high-heeled shoes stops outside my bedroom door. She holds her arms wide for a hug. I squeeze her harder than normal, trying to de-activate the army of tiny robots stampeding in my belly. It doesn't work. Still nervous.
"Have a great first day." She tugs the tip of my braid out of my mouth.
"I will."
"You've got your inhaler?"
"Yes, Mom. I showed you last night."
"Okay. Dad will deliver your EpiPen to the nurse this morning." She straightens my collar.
"Yep. I know. Since you're convinced I can't take care of myself." Now the robots are testing their rocket boosters.
"Please don't start, Saffron." Her hands flutter down to my wrists. "Where's your medical alert bracelet?"
"Just putting it on." I slide it on and tuck it under my sleeve.
"You have to wear it every day."
"Mom! Stop worrying." I bet she's wishing she could bust out a jumbo-sized roll of bubble wrap to keep me safe.
"Fine. Have fun with Britt and Jessica. I told them to watch out for you."
"You've convinced my friends to spy on me?" I administer a megawatt glare and yank on my braid. Its tip is spit-soaked.
Dad sidles up. Today's fashion disaster is a bright pink shirt, covered with flamingos wearing hats. Between regular first-day-of-school worries and my mother's nervous breakdown over my allergies, I don't have time to help Dad with his latest clothing misfire. I can't even joke with Mom over the whole thing because I'm currently busy being irritated at her.
Query:
Twelve-year-old Princess Penelope, daughter of Cinderella, has a “charmed life.” Closets full of ruffly dresses (itchy), classes at the prestigious Charming Academy (boring), and her very own fairy godmother (annoying). Penelope would trade them all for her mother’s signature on an adventure slip to travel outside the castle walls. Too bad Cinderella refuses to sign.
Exploring secret passages and games of capture-the-frog are fun, but when a rival princess dares Penelope to steal her mother’s glass slippers, her craving for adventure results in shattered shoes days before the annual ball. Smashed slippers are small peas to Penelope, but to a villain plotting the end to her mother’s Happily Ever After, it’s a perfectly twisted opportunity. The replacement glass slippers are poisoned, casting Cinderella into a deathly slumber.
Determined to save her mother’s life, Penelope searches for the origin of the mysterious poison. Once upon a time, an antidote existed. Lucky for Penelope, her new friend Jack may know where to find it. With Jack’s promise to guide them, Penelope and her best friend, Red, sneak out of the castle walls to travel into the forbidden Beanstalk Forest. Penelope’s wish to explore Fablewood becomes a race to find the antidote ingredients to wake her mother before she sleeps forever after.
First 250:
Glass slippers made terrible frog-capturing shoes. I kicked them off my feet, shoved my slingshot through my sash, and dropped to the mud to peer through the rose bush. A small frog lay stretched out on the edge of the wishing well, belly up to the sun.
Once upon a time, a princess ventured through the wilds of Fablewood…
I squeezed under the bush, but a thorn snagged the frilly hem of my dress, tearing the fabric with a loud rip. I froze.
The frog stretched his scrawny arms, wiggled a teeny bit, and flopped his arms back onto the stones. He hadn't heard me. The frog was mine.
The brave princess had climbed tall towers, outrun villains, trudged through swamps…
Squelching stealthily through the mud, I crawled to the well and paused.
One happily ever after...two happily ever after...three happily ever after.
She was Princess Penelope, daughter of Cinderella. One slimy beastie was no match for her.
“Surrender!” I sprang to my feet. A frog-shaped blotch glistened on the stones. “Rotten peas!”
As I leaned over the well, the frog leaped from his hiding spot beside a broken stone and onto my shoulder. He poked my cheek with a twig.
“Gotcha, Princess Penelope!”
I glared into his scum-colored googley eyes. “Phib! When did you know I was coming?”
“I saw you leave the castle doors.” Phib flourished the twig like a fencing sword, bowed, and strolled down my arm to the well. The dank smell of algae mixed with jasmine tickled my nose: eau de Phib.
VERSUS
Title: Super Weenie
Entry Name: Bust the Bubble Wrap
Word Count: 48,000
Genre: MG Contemporary; OwnVoices (Allergy/Anaphylaxis)
Query:
Eleven-year-old SAFFRON LEWIS wants to be a regular kid, but her life-threatening food allergies, medical alert bracelet and ever-present EpiPen make her feel like a weirdo. The nickname assigned by her older brother when she was two years old isn't helping matters. She swallowed one bite of nutty Halloween candy, turned the same shade of blue as her tiny-kid superhero costume, and he's called her Super Weenie ever since.
Saffy's hyper-protective mother has managed to keep her safe since then. But to Saffy, the rules, regulations and restrictions feel like bubble wrap. And she’s ready to burst free from her restraints and that dorktastic alter ego. Saffy's starting middle school, and she's got a plan: Pretend to be Perfectly Normal.
Everything goes fine… until she eats one bite of a supposedly safe cookie during a class party and goes into anaphylactic shock. She jolts awake in an ambulance. Time for a new plan: Survive Sixth Grade.
After the latest medical scare, her mother isn't convinced Saffy can protect herself, so she demands the school enact a restrictive food policy to keep Saffy safe. Before long angry protestors are waving picket signs in front of her school in opposition to the food ban. Saffy's classmates choose sides. Her locker mate Madison is firmly against the ban, and devotes herself to making Saffy’s life totally un-fun. She calls Saffy Nut Girl, labels her defective, and tricks everyone into thinking Saffy's having another allergic reaction just to freak out Saffy's friends.
Saffy discovers the key to surviving middle school -- to surviving life as a kid with allergies -- isn't escaping her Super Weenie persona, but embracing it. She just has to figure out how to stand up to Madison, ensure the school nurse never has to unholster another one of her EpiPens, and convince her mom to pack away the bubble wrap for good. This calls for Saffy's boldest plan yet: Super Weenie Rescues Herself.
First 250:
The click-clack of Mom's high-heeled shoes stops outside my bedroom door. She holds her arms wide for a hug. I squeeze her harder than normal, trying to de-activate the army of tiny robots stampeding in my belly. It doesn't work. Still nervous.
"Have a great first day." She tugs the tip of my braid out of my mouth.
"I will."
"You've got your inhaler?"
"Yes, Mom. I showed you last night."
"Okay. Dad will deliver your EpiPen to the nurse this morning." She straightens my collar.
"Yep. I know. Since you're convinced I can't take care of myself." Now the robots are testing their rocket boosters.
"Please don't start, Saffron." Her hands flutter down to my wrists. "Where's your medical alert bracelet?"
"Just putting it on." I slide it on and tuck it under my sleeve.
"You have to wear it every day."
"Mom! Stop worrying." I bet she's wishing she could bust out a jumbo-sized roll of bubble wrap to keep me safe.
"Fine. Have fun with Britt and Jessica. I told them to watch out for you."
"You've convinced my friends to spy on me?" I administer a megawatt glare and yank on my braid. Its tip is spit-soaked.
Dad sidles up. Today's fashion disaster is a bright pink shirt, covered with flamingos wearing hats. Between regular first-day-of-school worries and my mother's nervous breakdown over my allergies, I don't have time to help Dad with his latest clothing misfire. I can't even joke with Mom over the whole thing because I'm currently busy being irritated at her.
June 13, 2017
Starting a Novel Using Short Stories from Katrina Carrasco
Starting to write a novel can seem daunting. How to get from 0 words to 100,000? Every time I begin a new book, it feels like I’m staring up the side of a mountain, wondering how I’m going to survive the long, long climb. I imagine that, in my metaphorical rucksack, all I have is my love for writing, a few ideas for the story, and an interesting character or two. Sometimes that doesn’t seem like much -- but it’s got to be enough to get me going.
As I’ve become more comfortable with my own novel-writing process, I’ve discovered a few ways to give myself a head-start. (Think: beginning a hike at a 2,000-meter base camp rather than at sea level.) One of my favorite ways to world-build a book is to write short stories. Whether a story spends time with a character or explores my setting, it brings me into the world of my novel and asks me to think about that world in a different way.
I stumbled upon this process through trial and error. About eight years ago, when I started the draft that would eventually become my first completed novel, I envisioned the book as a family saga. So I wrote 50k about one generation, then 50k about the next (somewhere around here a family curse got thrown in, naturally), and then 50k about the next … only to discover that the great-granddaughter (who appeared in generation No. 3) was actually the character I wanted to write the book about. So then I wrote the actual novel about her. In essence, I’d done 150k of prewriting. Ouch!, I thought at the time. What a waste! Of course, as most authors will tell you, no writing is a waste, especially with early books. Those were hours logged that served to hone my craft and help me find the real story I wanted to tell. Plus, I had a rich family history written out that I used to bring depth and complexity to my protagonist’s story.
That manuscript is shelved now, always special to me because it was my first completed book. It wasn’t until my third completed manuscript that I had a novel strong enough to capture interest from my agent and my editor. By then, I’d figured out that writing a whole other novel was not the most efficient word-building exercise, and I’d reined that in to the technique I’m sharing here: world-building through short stories.
What this looks like is completely flexible, depending upon your needs and your style. I find it most helpful to write a world-building short story (WBSS) either about a character or the setting. A WBSS can be a piece of flash-fiction or a fleshed-out, 5,000-word narrative. I like long-form pieces (yes, I’m a novelist at heart), so I’m usually comfortable with 5,000-word WBSSs. But it can also be a useful challenge to myself as a writer to build a story in 2,000 words or less. Go with what works best for you!
Stories About Characters
When writing a WBSS about a character, consider choosing one of your secondary (or even tertiary) characters. This will help you avoid the trap of flat, unremarkable supporting characters. Consider a book that has a crime boss as a secondary character, and this crime boss has henchmen (tertiary characters). You could have one of her men be a Large, Slow Henchman and not much else. But what if you wrote a story about him, and along the way discovered something about his family; what drove him to violent, underpaid work; what his favorite smell is, and his least-favorite part of his body? Now when he appears in scenes as you draft your novel, he will have tics and unique reactions to situations and a history with roots that extend far off the page.
Another benefit of choosing a secondary or tertiary character is that they will likely have a totally different personal and situational POV than your main character. Take L.S. Henchman again, and consider what parts of your book world he would know and see versus those your main character (say, a middle-class professor) knows and sees. When you explore your book world through L.S. Henchman’s eyes, you’re making it richer by default by using such a different lens -- and you can draw upon that richness when drafting the novel itself.
Stories About Setting
When writing a WBSS about your setting, consider it an opportunity to do research. Look for anecdotes or information you might not otherwise have woven into your story. This is a great way to come across other (real) stories that might spark episodes or events in your book. For historical novels, looking into a town’s past might bring you to old newspaper articles about disappearances, celebrations, or conflicts that you can incorporate into your own story. For contemporary novels, reading up on the politics or residents of an area can give you a deeper understanding of your setting in the context of the larger world. (Note: Researching may not be applicable to certain genres, like fantasy or some SpecFic. In cases where there is no research possible, try using WBSSs to set and explore world rules or other things you must create, like topography, language, or social norms.)
Benefits of This Method
On top of the world-building benefits, there are other reasons to write WBSSs. Depending on how much you care to polish a certain piece -- and how well it stands on its own -- you may want to submit it to magazines or websites for publication. I strongly encourage you to submit short fiction to these outlets. Why? 1) It’s practice for pitching your work. 2) It helps you get accustomed to rejection (a fact of life in the writing world). 3) It helps you get accustomed to acceptance (celebrate your successes!). 4) Publishing short fiction will start building your reader base. 5) Publishing short fiction will build your creative resume/portfolio.
Another benefit of writing WBSSs is that they are relatively low-commitment. Say you have an idea for a book, but you’re not sure if it’s enough to charge ahead with and pour countless hours into. (Think back to the mountain I mentioned, and being intimidated by the sheer scale of starting a novel from a blank page.) If you write a WBSS, you’re only committing to a short story. Some of the pressure -- and some of the fear -- is taken away when you think in increments of 5,000 words, rather than 100,000. And if you complete the story and love it, you’ll have 5,000 words of material to draw from for your book draft.
I hope this post inspires you to try the WBSS method. Have you tried writing short stories as a world-building technique before? What other world-building methods work for you when you’re starting a new novel?
______________________________________________
Katrina Carrasco is a queer Latinx writer, born and raised in Southern California and now living in Seattle. In her novels and short stories she explores the ideas of passing, performance, and belonging: what is gained and what is lost by conforming to societal expectations of gender, race, class and sexuality. Her short fiction has appeared in Witness Magazine, Post RoadMagazine, Quaint Magazine, and other journals. Her debut novel, CIPHER, will be released in Fall 2018 by MCD/Farrar, Straus and Giroux. CIPHER follows Alma Rosales, a queer woman and ex-Pinkerton detective, as she switches between female and male disguises to investigate an opium-smuggling ring.
Website: katrinacarrasco.comTwitter: @katrinacarrascoBlog: kmcarrasco.blogspot.comGoodreads Page for CIPHER: goodreads.com/book/show/34041372-cipher
As I’ve become more comfortable with my own novel-writing process, I’ve discovered a few ways to give myself a head-start. (Think: beginning a hike at a 2,000-meter base camp rather than at sea level.) One of my favorite ways to world-build a book is to write short stories. Whether a story spends time with a character or explores my setting, it brings me into the world of my novel and asks me to think about that world in a different way.
I stumbled upon this process through trial and error. About eight years ago, when I started the draft that would eventually become my first completed novel, I envisioned the book as a family saga. So I wrote 50k about one generation, then 50k about the next (somewhere around here a family curse got thrown in, naturally), and then 50k about the next … only to discover that the great-granddaughter (who appeared in generation No. 3) was actually the character I wanted to write the book about. So then I wrote the actual novel about her. In essence, I’d done 150k of prewriting. Ouch!, I thought at the time. What a waste! Of course, as most authors will tell you, no writing is a waste, especially with early books. Those were hours logged that served to hone my craft and help me find the real story I wanted to tell. Plus, I had a rich family history written out that I used to bring depth and complexity to my protagonist’s story.
That manuscript is shelved now, always special to me because it was my first completed book. It wasn’t until my third completed manuscript that I had a novel strong enough to capture interest from my agent and my editor. By then, I’d figured out that writing a whole other novel was not the most efficient word-building exercise, and I’d reined that in to the technique I’m sharing here: world-building through short stories.
What this looks like is completely flexible, depending upon your needs and your style. I find it most helpful to write a world-building short story (WBSS) either about a character or the setting. A WBSS can be a piece of flash-fiction or a fleshed-out, 5,000-word narrative. I like long-form pieces (yes, I’m a novelist at heart), so I’m usually comfortable with 5,000-word WBSSs. But it can also be a useful challenge to myself as a writer to build a story in 2,000 words or less. Go with what works best for you!
Stories About Characters
When writing a WBSS about a character, consider choosing one of your secondary (or even tertiary) characters. This will help you avoid the trap of flat, unremarkable supporting characters. Consider a book that has a crime boss as a secondary character, and this crime boss has henchmen (tertiary characters). You could have one of her men be a Large, Slow Henchman and not much else. But what if you wrote a story about him, and along the way discovered something about his family; what drove him to violent, underpaid work; what his favorite smell is, and his least-favorite part of his body? Now when he appears in scenes as you draft your novel, he will have tics and unique reactions to situations and a history with roots that extend far off the page.
Another benefit of choosing a secondary or tertiary character is that they will likely have a totally different personal and situational POV than your main character. Take L.S. Henchman again, and consider what parts of your book world he would know and see versus those your main character (say, a middle-class professor) knows and sees. When you explore your book world through L.S. Henchman’s eyes, you’re making it richer by default by using such a different lens -- and you can draw upon that richness when drafting the novel itself.
Stories About Setting
When writing a WBSS about your setting, consider it an opportunity to do research. Look for anecdotes or information you might not otherwise have woven into your story. This is a great way to come across other (real) stories that might spark episodes or events in your book. For historical novels, looking into a town’s past might bring you to old newspaper articles about disappearances, celebrations, or conflicts that you can incorporate into your own story. For contemporary novels, reading up on the politics or residents of an area can give you a deeper understanding of your setting in the context of the larger world. (Note: Researching may not be applicable to certain genres, like fantasy or some SpecFic. In cases where there is no research possible, try using WBSSs to set and explore world rules or other things you must create, like topography, language, or social norms.)
Benefits of This Method
On top of the world-building benefits, there are other reasons to write WBSSs. Depending on how much you care to polish a certain piece -- and how well it stands on its own -- you may want to submit it to magazines or websites for publication. I strongly encourage you to submit short fiction to these outlets. Why? 1) It’s practice for pitching your work. 2) It helps you get accustomed to rejection (a fact of life in the writing world). 3) It helps you get accustomed to acceptance (celebrate your successes!). 4) Publishing short fiction will start building your reader base. 5) Publishing short fiction will build your creative resume/portfolio.
Another benefit of writing WBSSs is that they are relatively low-commitment. Say you have an idea for a book, but you’re not sure if it’s enough to charge ahead with and pour countless hours into. (Think back to the mountain I mentioned, and being intimidated by the sheer scale of starting a novel from a blank page.) If you write a WBSS, you’re only committing to a short story. Some of the pressure -- and some of the fear -- is taken away when you think in increments of 5,000 words, rather than 100,000. And if you complete the story and love it, you’ll have 5,000 words of material to draw from for your book draft.
I hope this post inspires you to try the WBSS method. Have you tried writing short stories as a world-building technique before? What other world-building methods work for you when you’re starting a new novel?
______________________________________________
Katrina Carrasco is a queer Latinx writer, born and raised in Southern California and now living in Seattle. In her novels and short stories she explores the ideas of passing, performance, and belonging: what is gained and what is lost by conforming to societal expectations of gender, race, class and sexuality. Her short fiction has appeared in Witness Magazine, Post RoadMagazine, Quaint Magazine, and other journals. Her debut novel, CIPHER, will be released in Fall 2018 by MCD/Farrar, Straus and Giroux. CIPHER follows Alma Rosales, a queer woman and ex-Pinkerton detective, as she switches between female and male disguises to investigate an opium-smuggling ring.Website: katrinacarrasco.comTwitter: @katrinacarrascoBlog: kmcarrasco.blogspot.comGoodreads Page for CIPHER: goodreads.com/book/show/34041372-cipher
June 12, 2017
Getting the Call with Alex Reda
What's a Call ™ story without some hospital drama?
Hello!
It happened. I've graduated from reading the "Getting the Call" series to writing a guest post. And let me tell you, it wasn't the easiest journey. But I would've never gotten here without the constant support and advice I found in the writing community.
The manuscript that landed me my fabulous agent was actually written as a result of turning down an offer last year. That decision almost made me quit writing, but I knew that particular working relationship would derail my career, perhaps even halt it altogether. That period was tough. Long nights staring at empty pages and wondering if I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.
Spoiler alert: I didn't.
After I shook the desperation off me, I decided I needed something fun to get back into my usual rhythm. I needed to write something I loved. And what do I love? Badass women reaching their goals. That's how my YA contemporary novel, LOVE, LIES, AND THE OTHER TEAM DIES got written in the dead of night. I gave up sleeping and lost myself in the world of competitions, video games, and teenage ambitions.
But the novel was far from perfect, so I entered Pitch Wars 2016. The universe smiled down on me and Marty Mayberry selected me as her mentee. We're now CPs and friends. #PitchWarsGoals
My inbox filled with "great novel, but not right for me", so I took another chance and entered #PitMad. In a past life, I must've bargained some cookies for good luck because an agent I planned on querying the very next day liked one of my tweets. And she was part of the first ever agency that requested additional material from me, so many years ago. Could this be it? The goal I'd been writing towards all these years, so poetically reached? I didn't want to get my hopes up (though I was unsuccessful; damn day-dreaming).
Then I got the e-mail of my dreams and I couldn't hit the reply button fast enough. Why, yes, I'd love to chat. Of course next week works for me. Yes, I'm over-the-moon excited. And, yes, I'm doing my happy dance as we speak (type?), but you don't really need to know that, so I'm just going to celebrate in private with my CPs.
Nothing could get me down—except getting super sick and landing in the ER 3 days later, only to find out I'll have to stay in the hospital for at least a week. As you can imagine, the timing wasn't ideal. And it became even less so when the nurses let me know I'd be going in for a procedure the morning when of my Call ™ day. Anesthesia included, of course.
Still, I didn't freak out. I woke up, groggy and unfocused, a few hours before my phone call, I went over my list of questions, I gushed over the agent's #MSWL. You know, completely normal things. My laptop screen got away from me a few times, but I persevered. Then a nurse came in and told me I'd been scheduled for another round of tests, smack dab in the time frame of my Call ™.
Cue freak out.
My heart dropped. My face lost color so fast the nurse thought I was about to faint. I probably wasn't as coherent as I remember, since it's all a bit fuzzy, but I did everything in my power to convince the staff to bump the tests for the next day. I almost got down on my knees. Luckily, the situation was resolved before I did that. I was so loopy, I probably wouldn't have managed to get up afterwards.
With all that mess behind me, I waited with the phone in my hand, the pink cannula digging into the crook of my elbow, stinging my arm into numbness. When the phone rang, I was ready for it. I realized I liked the agent in the first ten seconds of our conversation. She was so professional and poised and funny and charming and awesome. The Internet connection might've been scratchy, but we understood each other just fine. She loved my novel, I loved her enthusiasm. Before I knew it, we were joking around and talking about my career. A writing career. Mine! She answered all of my questions before I even had a chance to ask them, and put me at such ease, I forgot all about the awful week I'd had and the soul-crippling fear that I'd somehow mess up the phone call. I almost heard angels singing when she offered rep.
Half an hour later, we hung up with so many wonderful promises, I wanted to hug someone. I called my Mom (who had absolutely no idea I write) and told her I'm going to have an awesome literary agent.
I wanted to say yes right then and there. I've always been a fan of gut-feelings and mine were telling me this agent was the right fit for me.
Which she absolutely is! I'm beyond excited to be working with Natascha Morris, from Bookends LLC. Right from the get-go, she's been a dream and everything I could've hoped for in an agent. She's counseled me on branding and name changes (I used to write as Amelia Creed, hello, blast from the past), on future projects, and everything in between. I'm one lucky girl.
Lucky to have such a stellar agent in my corner. Lucky to have the support of my friends and CPs. Lucky to be part of such an amazing community. And lucky to have never given up on my dream.
____________________________________________________________
Alex Reda lives near the literary birthplace of modern vampires (and no, she doesn’t carry a head of garlic around every day—only on weekends). Though she enjoys reading about the pointy-toothed bastards in other authors’ novels, she likes her own characters on the human side, always in creepy settings, always with a hint of romance. One of her goals is to create someone’s future OTP. When she’s not glued to her keyboard, she dashes between lecture halls, daydreaming about her plot bunnies and gorging on dark chocolate.
You can find her online: https://alexredalit.wordpress.com/about/Twitter: @Alex_Reda Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AlexRedaLit/
Hello!
It happened. I've graduated from reading the "Getting the Call" series to writing a guest post. And let me tell you, it wasn't the easiest journey. But I would've never gotten here without the constant support and advice I found in the writing community.
The manuscript that landed me my fabulous agent was actually written as a result of turning down an offer last year. That decision almost made me quit writing, but I knew that particular working relationship would derail my career, perhaps even halt it altogether. That period was tough. Long nights staring at empty pages and wondering if I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.
Spoiler alert: I didn't.
After I shook the desperation off me, I decided I needed something fun to get back into my usual rhythm. I needed to write something I loved. And what do I love? Badass women reaching their goals. That's how my YA contemporary novel, LOVE, LIES, AND THE OTHER TEAM DIES got written in the dead of night. I gave up sleeping and lost myself in the world of competitions, video games, and teenage ambitions.
But the novel was far from perfect, so I entered Pitch Wars 2016. The universe smiled down on me and Marty Mayberry selected me as her mentee. We're now CPs and friends. #PitchWarsGoals
My inbox filled with "great novel, but not right for me", so I took another chance and entered #PitMad. In a past life, I must've bargained some cookies for good luck because an agent I planned on querying the very next day liked one of my tweets. And she was part of the first ever agency that requested additional material from me, so many years ago. Could this be it? The goal I'd been writing towards all these years, so poetically reached? I didn't want to get my hopes up (though I was unsuccessful; damn day-dreaming).
Then I got the e-mail of my dreams and I couldn't hit the reply button fast enough. Why, yes, I'd love to chat. Of course next week works for me. Yes, I'm over-the-moon excited. And, yes, I'm doing my happy dance as we speak (type?), but you don't really need to know that, so I'm just going to celebrate in private with my CPs.
Nothing could get me down—except getting super sick and landing in the ER 3 days later, only to find out I'll have to stay in the hospital for at least a week. As you can imagine, the timing wasn't ideal. And it became even less so when the nurses let me know I'd be going in for a procedure the morning when of my Call ™ day. Anesthesia included, of course.
Still, I didn't freak out. I woke up, groggy and unfocused, a few hours before my phone call, I went over my list of questions, I gushed over the agent's #MSWL. You know, completely normal things. My laptop screen got away from me a few times, but I persevered. Then a nurse came in and told me I'd been scheduled for another round of tests, smack dab in the time frame of my Call ™.
Cue freak out.
My heart dropped. My face lost color so fast the nurse thought I was about to faint. I probably wasn't as coherent as I remember, since it's all a bit fuzzy, but I did everything in my power to convince the staff to bump the tests for the next day. I almost got down on my knees. Luckily, the situation was resolved before I did that. I was so loopy, I probably wouldn't have managed to get up afterwards.
With all that mess behind me, I waited with the phone in my hand, the pink cannula digging into the crook of my elbow, stinging my arm into numbness. When the phone rang, I was ready for it. I realized I liked the agent in the first ten seconds of our conversation. She was so professional and poised and funny and charming and awesome. The Internet connection might've been scratchy, but we understood each other just fine. She loved my novel, I loved her enthusiasm. Before I knew it, we were joking around and talking about my career. A writing career. Mine! She answered all of my questions before I even had a chance to ask them, and put me at such ease, I forgot all about the awful week I'd had and the soul-crippling fear that I'd somehow mess up the phone call. I almost heard angels singing when she offered rep.
Half an hour later, we hung up with so many wonderful promises, I wanted to hug someone. I called my Mom (who had absolutely no idea I write) and told her I'm going to have an awesome literary agent.
I wanted to say yes right then and there. I've always been a fan of gut-feelings and mine were telling me this agent was the right fit for me.
Which she absolutely is! I'm beyond excited to be working with Natascha Morris, from Bookends LLC. Right from the get-go, she's been a dream and everything I could've hoped for in an agent. She's counseled me on branding and name changes (I used to write as Amelia Creed, hello, blast from the past), on future projects, and everything in between. I'm one lucky girl.
Lucky to have such a stellar agent in my corner. Lucky to have the support of my friends and CPs. Lucky to be part of such an amazing community. And lucky to have never given up on my dream.
____________________________________________________________
Alex Reda lives near the literary birthplace of modern vampires (and no, she doesn’t carry a head of garlic around every day—only on weekends). Though she enjoys reading about the pointy-toothed bastards in other authors’ novels, she likes her own characters on the human side, always in creepy settings, always with a hint of romance. One of her goals is to create someone’s future OTP. When she’s not glued to her keyboard, she dashes between lecture halls, daydreaming about her plot bunnies and gorging on dark chocolate.
You can find her online: https://alexredalit.wordpress.com/about/Twitter: @Alex_Reda Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AlexRedaLit/
Query Kombat Agent Round Wrap Up and Round 2 Matchups
The Agent Round of Query Kombat 2017 has come to a close with a grand total of 123 requests spread across 35 entries!
I'd like to give a HUGE thanks to all the agents who came out to help make the Agent Round a success. And thanks to the Judges who whipped our Kombatants into shape!
Below you will find Round 2 match-ups. The round starts on June 14 at 8:00 a.m. and continues until June 16 at 8:00 p.m. EDT.
Round two will be hosted on my blog and Laura's. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please leave a comment or tweet us: @ravenousrushing @michelle4laughs @lh_writes.
Remember, only sixteen of you will advance. Good luck Kombatants, and good luck Judges. Both groups have a tough road ahead.
Agent Round Stats:
Highest number of requests for an entry: Michelle's blog 14Number of Wild Cards played: 17 Most requested host: Mike
Round 2 Match-ups
Laura's Blog
From Gutters to Galleries vs. Stands By Until He Doesn't
The Nose Knows vs. Life as a Dumpster Fire
Alternative Facts vs. Boy Band Ninja Assassins
Book Boys Gone Wild vs. he Half-Orphan's Handbook
This Selkie Can't Swim vs. We Kinda Destroyed Paris
Hero by Default vs. Kaza
Be Grateful for Cookies vs. Dogs and Chickens and Dragons, Oh My!
Alabama With Hunters vs. Super Space Nerd
Michelle's Blog
Bounty and the Beast vs. Beards
Three Men and an Actuary vs. Mother of All Custody Battles
I Fell for a Convicted Felon vs. Delicious Vicious Cycles
Switcher vs. The Barringer Museum
Super Powers and Problems vs. Asteroid Snacks
Cheshire Hearts Alice vs. Girl of Your Nightmares
Estella + Ayron vs. Nowhere Land
Bust the Bubble Wrap vs. Perfectly Imperfect Princess
Good Luck Kombatants!
