Michelle Hauck's Blog, page 38
June 21, 2016
Getting the Submission Call with Auston Habershaw
Did anyone every mention patience in the same sentence as publishing? Just wondering. No patience needed for your dose of inspiration this week. Auston is here to provide it!
I Am the Glacier: A Call Story
I’ve wanted to be a professional science fiction and fantasy author for a long, long time—basically ever since I figured out that writing novels was a job that somebody could do for money. Yes, yes, I know—not very much money. I didn’t figure that out until much later.
In high school I wrote derivative fantasy fiction and bland space opera stories all based loosely off my experiences in RPGs like Dungeons & Dragons (yay AD&D 2nd Edition!). They were pretty much for myself and maybe my parents would listen—excellent learning experiences, but not anywhere near what they needed to be.
In college, I took as many creative writing workshops as I could, honing my craft, and for my senior honors thesis, I wrote a novel (a science fiction retelling of the Arthurian legend). Though I was very proud of it at the time, I can look back now and see how much I didn’t know and how much I had yet to grow as an author. That novel is an absolute train wreck, believe me.
After college, while the rest of my friends got steady jobs or pursued practical careers, I decided I was going to be a Novelist. I figured it would take a few years before I got my first book deal and then I’d be a pro and my troubles would be over.
I will pause here for the peals of laughter.
Done?
…
How about now? Okay.
I made that incredibly naïve decision in the year 2000. I took odd jobs and wrote my novels in my spare time. I eventually opted to get my MFA, figuring that if I was going to spend all my spare time writing anyway, I may as well earn a degree and see if it came in handy (it did—I now work as an English professor which makes my writing career far, far more practical). During this time, I wrote three more novels, each one better than the last one. The third one, The Oldest Trick, I felt was really very good.
I started by querying agents, a couple a week, for a few months. No bites. During this time, Harper Voyager had an open call for submissions, so I sent it. By this point it was the fall of 2012. I kept querying agents for a while, but still no bites—I figured there was something I was doing wrong. I had at this point also honed my short fiction game and was getting publications in small markets here and there. It encouraged me, kept me going. When I earned a semi-finalist finish in the Writers of the Future Contest (a prestigious international short fiction competition for SF/F), I resolved that quitting wasn’t ever going to be an option—I had the chops to be a pro, I just knew it. It was just a matter of getting the stars to align.
Harper sat on my book for 18 months. After about six months, I queried and got a stock response—yes, my book was still under consideration, thanks for your patience, etc.. After a yearI queried again, and got a stock response again. But then, fifteen minutes after that response, I got a personal response from Kelly O’Connor, at that time an assistant editor at Harper Voyager. She told me they were very interested and to let them know if interest developed from elsewhere, but they still needed time to decide. Them telling me “let me know if interest developed from elsewhere” was a bit like dangling a full canteen of water in front of a starving man in the desert and saying “we’re really interested in giving you this, but let us know if you stumble across a lemonade stand.” I didn’t say anything, though. No begging, no cajoling, no over-enthusiastic squeals of glee. Like a hunter, the prey was in my sights and any sudden movement or noise might spook it. I kept a stiff upper lip and pressed on.
For six more months.
After the dawning of 2014, I shot Kelly an e-mail: “Hey, just me, author who is totally not obsessing over the fate of his novel in your hands—any news?” I was told that I would hear, one way or another, by the end of January 2014. I watched my calendar like a goddamned barn owl watches a mouse.
And I didn’t hear back until March. I got the call (well, the e-mail) in my cubicle at work, so hooting and hollering wasn’t really an option. Still, my hands trembled as I read the words “we’d love to publish your novel.” This was it—my life-long goal, finally realized. I called my wife first and then my mom. There was much rejoicing.
There were other things, too. First off, they wanted to split my book in half (too long, they felt). They also set me a deadline for the nextbook (I’d never actually written a novel on a deadline before—not really, anyway). I started to realize, somewhat to my horror, that getting a book deal was only the very beginning of my journey. I was starting out, not finishing. All that patience, all that gradual pressure, all that dedication to improving my craft, and that had only gotten me in the door. I now had to find my way out of the lobby.
But it’s okay, though—great, even. Learning patience and perseverance is essential to this whole writing gig. Yeah, I guess I could have self-published some of my earlier novels before I knew enough to know they weren’t up to snuff, but that wouldn’t have helped me in the long run (though your mileage may vary, of course). I needed all that time to improve, to hone, and, yes, to learn what I was made of. Now, even though I’m just starting out, I feel ready for what is coming for me, whatever that is. I know that, no matter what, I am going to press on. I honestly can’t imagine doing anything else. Writing is not running a race because you like to win, but rather one you run because you like running.
Cursed with a magic ring that forbids skullduggery, Tyvian Reldamar’s life of crime is sadly behind him. Now reduced to fencing moldy relics and wheedling favors from petty nobility, he’s pretty sure his life can’t get any worse.
That is until he hears that his old nemesis, Myreon Alafarr, has been framed for a crime she didn’t commit and turned to stone in a penitentiary garden. Somebody is trying to get his attention, and that somebody is playing a very high-stakes game that will draw Tyvian and his friends back to the city of his birth and right under the noses of the Defenders he’s been dodging for so long. And that isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that the person pulling all the strings is none other than the most powerful sorceress in the West: Lyrelle Reldamar.
Tyvian’s own mother.
Links
Harper Collins: https://www.harpercollins.com/9780062369192/no-good-deed
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TOZQ7RW/ref=cm_sw_su_dp?tag=harpercollinsus-20
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/no-good-deed-auston-habershaw/1123563522;jsessionid=D00BC0FB4D03A12066B7484E9B13E4C5.prodny_store02-atgap05?ean=9780062369192&st=AFF&2sid=HarperCollins%20Publishers%20LLC_7310909_NA&sourceId=AFFHarperCollins%20Publishers%20LLCM000023
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/search?q=9780062369192+&c=books
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/all-that-glitters/id968138983?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
On the day Auston Habershaw was born, Skylab fell from the heavens. This foretold two possible fates: supervillain or scifi/fantasy author. Fortunately he chose the latter, and spends his time imagining the could-be and the never-was rather than disintegrating the moon with his volcano laser. He lives and works in Boston, MA. He has a blog at http://aahabershaw.com/.
I Am the Glacier: A Call Story
I’ve wanted to be a professional science fiction and fantasy author for a long, long time—basically ever since I figured out that writing novels was a job that somebody could do for money. Yes, yes, I know—not very much money. I didn’t figure that out until much later.
In high school I wrote derivative fantasy fiction and bland space opera stories all based loosely off my experiences in RPGs like Dungeons & Dragons (yay AD&D 2nd Edition!). They were pretty much for myself and maybe my parents would listen—excellent learning experiences, but not anywhere near what they needed to be.
In college, I took as many creative writing workshops as I could, honing my craft, and for my senior honors thesis, I wrote a novel (a science fiction retelling of the Arthurian legend). Though I was very proud of it at the time, I can look back now and see how much I didn’t know and how much I had yet to grow as an author. That novel is an absolute train wreck, believe me.
After college, while the rest of my friends got steady jobs or pursued practical careers, I decided I was going to be a Novelist. I figured it would take a few years before I got my first book deal and then I’d be a pro and my troubles would be over.
I will pause here for the peals of laughter.
Done?
…
How about now? Okay.
I made that incredibly naïve decision in the year 2000. I took odd jobs and wrote my novels in my spare time. I eventually opted to get my MFA, figuring that if I was going to spend all my spare time writing anyway, I may as well earn a degree and see if it came in handy (it did—I now work as an English professor which makes my writing career far, far more practical). During this time, I wrote three more novels, each one better than the last one. The third one, The Oldest Trick, I felt was really very good.
I started by querying agents, a couple a week, for a few months. No bites. During this time, Harper Voyager had an open call for submissions, so I sent it. By this point it was the fall of 2012. I kept querying agents for a while, but still no bites—I figured there was something I was doing wrong. I had at this point also honed my short fiction game and was getting publications in small markets here and there. It encouraged me, kept me going. When I earned a semi-finalist finish in the Writers of the Future Contest (a prestigious international short fiction competition for SF/F), I resolved that quitting wasn’t ever going to be an option—I had the chops to be a pro, I just knew it. It was just a matter of getting the stars to align.
Harper sat on my book for 18 months. After about six months, I queried and got a stock response—yes, my book was still under consideration, thanks for your patience, etc.. After a yearI queried again, and got a stock response again. But then, fifteen minutes after that response, I got a personal response from Kelly O’Connor, at that time an assistant editor at Harper Voyager. She told me they were very interested and to let them know if interest developed from elsewhere, but they still needed time to decide. Them telling me “let me know if interest developed from elsewhere” was a bit like dangling a full canteen of water in front of a starving man in the desert and saying “we’re really interested in giving you this, but let us know if you stumble across a lemonade stand.” I didn’t say anything, though. No begging, no cajoling, no over-enthusiastic squeals of glee. Like a hunter, the prey was in my sights and any sudden movement or noise might spook it. I kept a stiff upper lip and pressed on.
For six more months.
After the dawning of 2014, I shot Kelly an e-mail: “Hey, just me, author who is totally not obsessing over the fate of his novel in your hands—any news?” I was told that I would hear, one way or another, by the end of January 2014. I watched my calendar like a goddamned barn owl watches a mouse.
And I didn’t hear back until March. I got the call (well, the e-mail) in my cubicle at work, so hooting and hollering wasn’t really an option. Still, my hands trembled as I read the words “we’d love to publish your novel.” This was it—my life-long goal, finally realized. I called my wife first and then my mom. There was much rejoicing.
There were other things, too. First off, they wanted to split my book in half (too long, they felt). They also set me a deadline for the nextbook (I’d never actually written a novel on a deadline before—not really, anyway). I started to realize, somewhat to my horror, that getting a book deal was only the very beginning of my journey. I was starting out, not finishing. All that patience, all that gradual pressure, all that dedication to improving my craft, and that had only gotten me in the door. I now had to find my way out of the lobby.
But it’s okay, though—great, even. Learning patience and perseverance is essential to this whole writing gig. Yeah, I guess I could have self-published some of my earlier novels before I knew enough to know they weren’t up to snuff, but that wouldn’t have helped me in the long run (though your mileage may vary, of course). I needed all that time to improve, to hone, and, yes, to learn what I was made of. Now, even though I’m just starting out, I feel ready for what is coming for me, whatever that is. I know that, no matter what, I am going to press on. I honestly can’t imagine doing anything else. Writing is not running a race because you like to win, but rather one you run because you like running.
Cursed with a magic ring that forbids skullduggery, Tyvian Reldamar’s life of crime is sadly behind him. Now reduced to fencing moldy relics and wheedling favors from petty nobility, he’s pretty sure his life can’t get any worse.
That is until he hears that his old nemesis, Myreon Alafarr, has been framed for a crime she didn’t commit and turned to stone in a penitentiary garden. Somebody is trying to get his attention, and that somebody is playing a very high-stakes game that will draw Tyvian and his friends back to the city of his birth and right under the noses of the Defenders he’s been dodging for so long. And that isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that the person pulling all the strings is none other than the most powerful sorceress in the West: Lyrelle Reldamar.
Tyvian’s own mother.
Links
Harper Collins: https://www.harpercollins.com/9780062369192/no-good-deed
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TOZQ7RW/ref=cm_sw_su_dp?tag=harpercollinsus-20
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/no-good-deed-auston-habershaw/1123563522;jsessionid=D00BC0FB4D03A12066B7484E9B13E4C5.prodny_store02-atgap05?ean=9780062369192&st=AFF&2sid=HarperCollins%20Publishers%20LLC_7310909_NA&sourceId=AFFHarperCollins%20Publishers%20LLCM000023
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/search?q=9780062369192+&c=books
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/all-that-glitters/id968138983?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
On the day Auston Habershaw was born, Skylab fell from the heavens. This foretold two possible fates: supervillain or scifi/fantasy author. Fortunately he chose the latter, and spends his time imagining the could-be and the never-was rather than disintegrating the moon with his volcano laser. He lives and works in Boston, MA. He has a blog at http://aahabershaw.com/.
June 18, 2016
Query Kombat Round 2 Winners 2016
Round 2 of this tournament is officially over. All kontenders fought valiantly, but alas, half of you must be knocked out. Win or lose, thanks for officially making QK the toughest query tournament in all the land.
A standing ovation to those of you who fought and came out victorious. A full 48 entries out of the 64 that started this tournament have been eliminated. Those left can practically smell the title of QK Grand Champion. Best of luck in round 3, kontenders. You're going to need it.
Please have your revised entries to us by Sunday, June 19th at 8 pm EST. Use the same format and send to the contest email: QueryKombat (at) gmail (dot) com.
Round 3 will be hosted on Mike's blog from June 21st-23rd. Below is not only a list of who made it into the 3rd round, but who entrants will be match against as well. Orange entries are on Team Happy Dancing!!! We did quite well!
Happy Editing!
Madam Butterfly vs. Irish in America
The Ghost and Ms. Clair vs. And I Feel Fine
Like Atlantis, Only Totally Creepy vs. Meet Me at Lake Nevaeh
What's Luck Got to Do With it vs. Hot Sauce is Bad of Wound Care
One-Handed Wonder v. The Order of Black
Jello Poems v. Partners-in-Magic
Escape the Fate vs. Cement Gargling 101
My Boyfriend Rigged the Lottery vs. Ticket to Ride
June 15, 2016
Query Kombat 2016 Second Round
Here we go! Round 2!
Entries are on my blog and Laura's! This round lasts until June 17th at 8 pm.
On Friday the hosts will call out for extra judges to come and break ties, or in case of extra close votes to try and get a more decisive margin.
The entry with the most votes for Victory moves forward to the third round on June 21st! Winners may send in a revised entry to the Query Kombat email by Sunday, June 19 at 8:00 pm. Use the same format. Kombatants will not have any more chances to revise for the rest of the contest.
Note: Since we have an uneven number of matchups, there will be a unique twist this round. We have fifteen matchups (due to two receiving agent offers). The top losing entries will be presented to the judges and the judges will vote for one entry to move to the third round.
The same rules for commenting and judging apply. Below I've reposted the main ideas:
Reminders for the Entrants:
No commenting on your own entries until the last day of the round. If there is a problem with your entry, shout out to us on twitter as soon as you can. If you don't have a Twitter, you may comment on your entry telling me the mistake.
Also, we tried our hardest to make the match-ups as fair as possible and against as similar stories as possible. But, obviously, this is impossible to do perfectly and some match-ups may seen very random. We apologize for this but it's an evil of the system.
Kombatants should comment on 4 other match-ups to help share the love around!
Reminders for the Judges:
Wait until after one of us hosts comments on each entry first and reply to that comment to cast your votes. Try making your votes objective instead of subjective (but if you really love an entry subjectively, don't even feel bad about saying it was a subjective vote - subjectivity rules!).
Make sure to post under your nicknames!
QK Round 2: Ivy League Sex Scandal vs. Madam Butterfly
Title: The Professor and Miss St. James
Entry Nickname: Ivy League Sex Scandal
Word Count: 104,000
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Query:
At 25, all Jocelyn St. James has to show for her life are three homecoming crowns, two blue lines on a stick, and a ton of regret. She’s cutting her losses and heading for grad school at Dartmouth. Leaving Texas is her only hope of hiding her pregnancy from the baby’s father.
She’s got seven months until her due date. Not enough time to get a master’s degree or figure out the whole motherhood thing, but if she can manage not to ruin anyone’s life, she’ll be off to a good start.
When her sexy professor locks eyes with her on the first day of class, her fresh start is the first casualty of his killer smile.
Best-selling author, Michael Kensington is no average academic. Brilliant and gorgeous, he could charm the pants off any grad student, even a former homecoming queen determined to outrun her past.
If Jocelyn doesn’t address the rising heat between them, she won’t have a prayer of focusing on school. But when things get way more intimate than either of them intend, Jocelyn not only falls in love— she kind of falls apart. He’s quick to blame her hormones, but she’s got bigger problems.
With rumors of their affair spreading, and her mom coming for a visit, it’s just a matter of time before Jocelyn’s pregnancy is big news at Dartmouth and back home. Kensington wants to know what she’s running from, but telling him the truth about the baby’s father is not an option.
If Jocelyn wants a future with Kensington, she’ll have to make a choice: lie to keep him close, or lose him to keep her secrets… Unless she’s not the only one with a past that won’t stay put.
First 250 Words:
I make him nervous.
His eye contact falters when he glances across the desk at me. Dr. Edna Moss’s teaching assistant clears his throat and taps his pencil. A flush creeps up his neck.
I’m not sure what he sees in me. The usual, I guess. My two-thousand mile road trip must not look as bad on the outside as it feels on the inside. Because inside, I’m struggling.
The office reeks of air freshener. The smell nauseates me. Lately, I’ve come to depend on breathing through my nose to keep from gagging, but the revolting scent makes breathing much harder than it has any right to be.
“How long will Dr. Moss be?” I ask, ending our awkward silence.
He glances at me with lit-up eyes and a shy grin. “Any minute now.”
I return his smile with as much grace as I can manage. “Tell me your name again?”
“Will.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“You’re new to Dartmouth?”
“Brand new.”
“Dr. Moss says you’re a star.”
“Wow. Thanks.” I have zero desire to flirt with this guy, but I don’t want to piss him off either. It’s a delicate balance. As men are.
“What are your languages?”
“French and Italian. Some Portuguese,” I say.
“Romance, huh?”
He doesn’t ask it in a derisive way, but the question still manages to dredge up every insecurity I have about whether I’m good enough to walk the halls of an Ivy League school.
“Yeah,” is my brilliant answer.
VERSUS
Title: The Absence of ButterfliesEntry Nickname: Madam ButterflyWord count: 80,000Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Query:
Will Kavanagh is the only one who knows the truth about the drug overdose that killed Christy Talbot. Not that he’s telling. The world famous actress may have starred in the film adaption of his novel, but that doesn’t mean he wants to go to jail for giving her illegal drugs. Troubled by a mounting sense of self-loathing and guilt, not to mention images of Christy’s lifeless face plaguing his dreams, Will returns to the only place he has ever felt something other than lost: home. Not that everyone in town is rolling out the red carpet for Cherrington’s prodigal son.
Following the unexpected death of her father, Jessica Locke needs something—anything—to keep herself busy, and fixing up a property for Will’s mother sounds like just the ticket. The only hitch is her ego-fueled ex-fiancé is back—the one who left her in the rear-view mirror on his way to literary fame in NYC. Will is the last person Jessica wants to talk about, let alone see. Repeatedly thrown together at the most inconvenient of times by Jessica’s matchmaker uncle, it isn’t long before things begin to heat up between them once again. Too bad Will, haunted by the knowledge of how Christy died, isn’t exactly relationship-ready. Neither is Jessica.
Each dealing with death in very different ways, Jessica and Will navigate conflicting emotions and their undeniable attraction to find something worth saving. Then Will realizes that unless he’s willing to reveal his secret to Jessica, fast, he could lose her trust—and her love—all over again. Because, as it turns out, Will isn't the only one who knows the truth behind Christy’s death.
First 250:
On the drive from New York City, Will Kavanagh couldn’t stop thinking about the dead actress. All day little things triggered memories of her: a red Porsche, a cluster of violets on the side of the road, a movie poster.
And when he emerged from the coffee shop that evening, he was confronted with yet another reminder.
His legs seemed to move of their own volition, taking him off the sidewalk and over to the bookstore window. He would have been able to spot those red and gold splashed covers anywhere. Bold black letters at the top of each one proclaimed Now a Major Motion Picture. Underneath was a snapshot of the two main stars. The one on the right gazed back at Will, her full lips drawn into a seductive pout.
As he stood transfixed on the sidewalk, the world around him faded away. He didn’t see Christy Talbot with her arm around her leading man. Instead his mind burned with the image of the actress as she lay sprawled on the floor, a pill bottle upended next to her, her eyes empty. Those eyes had haunted him every day for the last two months.
“Excuse me.”
The voice made him snap back to the present. He turned his head and saw a man standing beside him, holding out the bag that contained Will’s bagel. “I saw you drop this. You didn’t even notice.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
The man smiled. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Will stiffened. “No.”
Entry Nickname: Ivy League Sex Scandal
Word Count: 104,000
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Query:
At 25, all Jocelyn St. James has to show for her life are three homecoming crowns, two blue lines on a stick, and a ton of regret. She’s cutting her losses and heading for grad school at Dartmouth. Leaving Texas is her only hope of hiding her pregnancy from the baby’s father.
She’s got seven months until her due date. Not enough time to get a master’s degree or figure out the whole motherhood thing, but if she can manage not to ruin anyone’s life, she’ll be off to a good start.
When her sexy professor locks eyes with her on the first day of class, her fresh start is the first casualty of his killer smile.
Best-selling author, Michael Kensington is no average academic. Brilliant and gorgeous, he could charm the pants off any grad student, even a former homecoming queen determined to outrun her past.
If Jocelyn doesn’t address the rising heat between them, she won’t have a prayer of focusing on school. But when things get way more intimate than either of them intend, Jocelyn not only falls in love— she kind of falls apart. He’s quick to blame her hormones, but she’s got bigger problems.
With rumors of their affair spreading, and her mom coming for a visit, it’s just a matter of time before Jocelyn’s pregnancy is big news at Dartmouth and back home. Kensington wants to know what she’s running from, but telling him the truth about the baby’s father is not an option.
If Jocelyn wants a future with Kensington, she’ll have to make a choice: lie to keep him close, or lose him to keep her secrets… Unless she’s not the only one with a past that won’t stay put.
First 250 Words:
I make him nervous.
His eye contact falters when he glances across the desk at me. Dr. Edna Moss’s teaching assistant clears his throat and taps his pencil. A flush creeps up his neck.
I’m not sure what he sees in me. The usual, I guess. My two-thousand mile road trip must not look as bad on the outside as it feels on the inside. Because inside, I’m struggling.
The office reeks of air freshener. The smell nauseates me. Lately, I’ve come to depend on breathing through my nose to keep from gagging, but the revolting scent makes breathing much harder than it has any right to be.
“How long will Dr. Moss be?” I ask, ending our awkward silence.
He glances at me with lit-up eyes and a shy grin. “Any minute now.”
I return his smile with as much grace as I can manage. “Tell me your name again?”
“Will.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“You’re new to Dartmouth?”
“Brand new.”
“Dr. Moss says you’re a star.”
“Wow. Thanks.” I have zero desire to flirt with this guy, but I don’t want to piss him off either. It’s a delicate balance. As men are.
“What are your languages?”
“French and Italian. Some Portuguese,” I say.
“Romance, huh?”
He doesn’t ask it in a derisive way, but the question still manages to dredge up every insecurity I have about whether I’m good enough to walk the halls of an Ivy League school.
“Yeah,” is my brilliant answer.
VERSUS
Title: The Absence of ButterfliesEntry Nickname: Madam ButterflyWord count: 80,000Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Query:
Will Kavanagh is the only one who knows the truth about the drug overdose that killed Christy Talbot. Not that he’s telling. The world famous actress may have starred in the film adaption of his novel, but that doesn’t mean he wants to go to jail for giving her illegal drugs. Troubled by a mounting sense of self-loathing and guilt, not to mention images of Christy’s lifeless face plaguing his dreams, Will returns to the only place he has ever felt something other than lost: home. Not that everyone in town is rolling out the red carpet for Cherrington’s prodigal son.
Following the unexpected death of her father, Jessica Locke needs something—anything—to keep herself busy, and fixing up a property for Will’s mother sounds like just the ticket. The only hitch is her ego-fueled ex-fiancé is back—the one who left her in the rear-view mirror on his way to literary fame in NYC. Will is the last person Jessica wants to talk about, let alone see. Repeatedly thrown together at the most inconvenient of times by Jessica’s matchmaker uncle, it isn’t long before things begin to heat up between them once again. Too bad Will, haunted by the knowledge of how Christy died, isn’t exactly relationship-ready. Neither is Jessica.
Each dealing with death in very different ways, Jessica and Will navigate conflicting emotions and their undeniable attraction to find something worth saving. Then Will realizes that unless he’s willing to reveal his secret to Jessica, fast, he could lose her trust—and her love—all over again. Because, as it turns out, Will isn't the only one who knows the truth behind Christy’s death.
First 250:
On the drive from New York City, Will Kavanagh couldn’t stop thinking about the dead actress. All day little things triggered memories of her: a red Porsche, a cluster of violets on the side of the road, a movie poster.
And when he emerged from the coffee shop that evening, he was confronted with yet another reminder.
His legs seemed to move of their own volition, taking him off the sidewalk and over to the bookstore window. He would have been able to spot those red and gold splashed covers anywhere. Bold black letters at the top of each one proclaimed Now a Major Motion Picture. Underneath was a snapshot of the two main stars. The one on the right gazed back at Will, her full lips drawn into a seductive pout.
As he stood transfixed on the sidewalk, the world around him faded away. He didn’t see Christy Talbot with her arm around her leading man. Instead his mind burned with the image of the actress as she lay sprawled on the floor, a pill bottle upended next to her, her eyes empty. Those eyes had haunted him every day for the last two months.
“Excuse me.”
The voice made him snap back to the present. He turned his head and saw a man standing beside him, holding out the bag that contained Will’s bagel. “I saw you drop this. You didn’t even notice.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
The man smiled. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Will stiffened. “No.”
QK Round 2: Croissants Kill! vs. The Ghost and Ms. Clair
Title: Coded For MurderEntry nickname: Croissants kill!Word Count: 73,000Genre: Adult Mystery
Query:
The body hangs from an oak by the frigid mile-wide expanse of the St. Lawrence River. Where the face should be, the wind whips over exposed, acid-etched bone. And a noose of thick rope coils tightly over a red silk tie.
Chief Inspector Derek James of the Service de police de la Ville de Montréal survived the storm at sea that took his wife and infant son, leaving him with a hand that doesn’t work, and a personality that can withstand a hurricane.
Within hours, James has ID’d the faceless victim as a tech startup executive. But with a twelve-year-old as a witness, and CEO Holly, a gay black woman driven to sell the startup, sabotaging his case, James is no closer to finding the murderer. Holly knows what's going on, but she won't willingly confide in him.
Things go from bad to worse. When his car is bombed, James realizes his boss is trying to kill him. Maybe he shouldn’t have slept with his boss’s mistress, but there’s another reason for the attack, best kept under wraps. For now.
Suspects surround James, all of them liars, and one of them the masked assailant who strung up the body from the tree.
With two more attacks within twenty-four hours, he must choose – going by the book, or resorting to coercion – to unearth the killer, to save his twelve-year-old witness, to expose a conspiracy coded for murder.
First 250:
April 2, 6:50 am
“Strung up by the river? Without a face?”
Chief Inspector Derek James of the Service de Police de la Ville de Montréal spoke more to himself than to the team. He tucked his cold hands into his pockets and looked up. A rope looped over the middle branch of an oak in the urban beach park. Above him hung a body with an exposed skull, framed by sparse hair on top, ears on either side, and a wrinkly neck puckered in a noose. The face was stripped to the bone with eroded teeth set in a perpetual grin as if the skull were enjoying a joke at everyone’s expense.
James’s gut tightened, but he stilled the reaction in an instant, regaining his calm. What did it matter how any of us went?
“I’m sure we’re thinking the same thing.” Forensic Pathologist John Seymour’s eyes were bright and keen. “What could this poor guy have done to deserve this?”
James rubbed the short stubble on his jaw. Dawn cast a blue light on the water and snow. It was amazing how the usually peaceful beach park took on a menacing air: the St. Lawrence River choppier than usual, swirls of sand and snow rolling like tumbleweeds, the sky heavy and low. But a children’s playground lay behind the hanging body, and its red swings, bright yellow slide, and empty wading pool offered a marked contrast to the swaying corpse.
“What can you tell me, Doctor?”
VERSUS
Title: Donn’s HillEntry Nickname: The Ghost and Ms. ClairWord count: 83KGenre: Paranormal Mystery
Query:
Mackenzie Clair knew her life would change when her father died, but she wasn’t expecting the grief to give her the ability to talk to the dead, or to end up chasing a murderer through the most haunted town in America.
Twenty-seven-year-old Mac never really figured out what to do with herself. She sleepwalks through her dull desk job every day, tries not to aggravate her controlling boyfriend every night, and relies on her father and their shared love of books and music to hang on to her sanity. When Mac loses her father to cancer and her boyfriend to infidelity all in the same week, she embarks on a mission to reclaim some joy. She abandons the city life and relocates to the place where she’d been happiest in her youth: Donn’s Hill, a small town in Middle America that’s best known for an abundance of paranormal activity, especially the séances at its annual Afterlife Festival.
Mac doesn’t get much time to acclimate to small-town living before an angry poltergeist begins to stalk her, forcing her to quickly come to terms with her newly discovered psychic powers. With the help of the ghost-hunting crew of the nationally televised show Soul Searchers and a spirited tortoiseshell cat named Striker, Mac becomes bold enough to do things she never imagined possible: investigate hauntings, banish poltergeists,and generally feel happy again.
Unfortunately, in the midst of her journey of self-discovery, someone is killing off the town’s residents. Death has followed Mac to Donn’s Hill, and in the weeks leading to the Afterlife Festival, corpses are piling up. Harassed by the ghost of a murdered man, Mac must make a choice: leave town for her own safety, or stay anduse her abilities to identify the killer before she winds up joining the ranks of the spirits who wander the town.
First 250:
Someone was sitting on my bed.
I’d awoken to the thin mattress shifting beneath me when his weight pressed down near my right side. My body wanted to roll toward that lower point, but I held myself in place, not wanting to touch him. He—and I was sure it was a “he,” though I couldn’t say why—smelled foul, like rotting garbage, but hadn’t harmed me. Yet. Too frightened to scream and risk propelling my intruder into motion, I held my breath and strained my ears to hear his breathing.
I heard nothing but the hum of a car passing on the highway.
Questions pinged around inside my skull and crashed into each other. What’s going on? Is he holding his breath too? Are we locked in some kind of silent contest, the loser being the one who passes out? How did he get past the locks?
And the most pressing questions of all, the ones I’d need to move to answer: Who is he? What does he want from me?
It couldn’t be anything good. People who want to do good things usually knock.
Taking a chance, I opened one eye a tiny bit, creating a narrow slit between my eyelids. The motel room was pitch-black, thanks to the ancient heavy curtains and my having unplugged the digital alarm clock. Keeping my arm under the covers, I crept my left hand toward the nightstand.
Slowly, I told myself. Don’t make a sound.
Faster! my lungs screamed at me.
Query:
The body hangs from an oak by the frigid mile-wide expanse of the St. Lawrence River. Where the face should be, the wind whips over exposed, acid-etched bone. And a noose of thick rope coils tightly over a red silk tie.
Chief Inspector Derek James of the Service de police de la Ville de Montréal survived the storm at sea that took his wife and infant son, leaving him with a hand that doesn’t work, and a personality that can withstand a hurricane.
Within hours, James has ID’d the faceless victim as a tech startup executive. But with a twelve-year-old as a witness, and CEO Holly, a gay black woman driven to sell the startup, sabotaging his case, James is no closer to finding the murderer. Holly knows what's going on, but she won't willingly confide in him.
Things go from bad to worse. When his car is bombed, James realizes his boss is trying to kill him. Maybe he shouldn’t have slept with his boss’s mistress, but there’s another reason for the attack, best kept under wraps. For now.
Suspects surround James, all of them liars, and one of them the masked assailant who strung up the body from the tree.
With two more attacks within twenty-four hours, he must choose – going by the book, or resorting to coercion – to unearth the killer, to save his twelve-year-old witness, to expose a conspiracy coded for murder.
First 250:
April 2, 6:50 am
“Strung up by the river? Without a face?”
Chief Inspector Derek James of the Service de Police de la Ville de Montréal spoke more to himself than to the team. He tucked his cold hands into his pockets and looked up. A rope looped over the middle branch of an oak in the urban beach park. Above him hung a body with an exposed skull, framed by sparse hair on top, ears on either side, and a wrinkly neck puckered in a noose. The face was stripped to the bone with eroded teeth set in a perpetual grin as if the skull were enjoying a joke at everyone’s expense.
James’s gut tightened, but he stilled the reaction in an instant, regaining his calm. What did it matter how any of us went?
“I’m sure we’re thinking the same thing.” Forensic Pathologist John Seymour’s eyes were bright and keen. “What could this poor guy have done to deserve this?”
James rubbed the short stubble on his jaw. Dawn cast a blue light on the water and snow. It was amazing how the usually peaceful beach park took on a menacing air: the St. Lawrence River choppier than usual, swirls of sand and snow rolling like tumbleweeds, the sky heavy and low. But a children’s playground lay behind the hanging body, and its red swings, bright yellow slide, and empty wading pool offered a marked contrast to the swaying corpse.
“What can you tell me, Doctor?”
VERSUS
Title: Donn’s HillEntry Nickname: The Ghost and Ms. ClairWord count: 83KGenre: Paranormal Mystery
Query:
Mackenzie Clair knew her life would change when her father died, but she wasn’t expecting the grief to give her the ability to talk to the dead, or to end up chasing a murderer through the most haunted town in America.
Twenty-seven-year-old Mac never really figured out what to do with herself. She sleepwalks through her dull desk job every day, tries not to aggravate her controlling boyfriend every night, and relies on her father and their shared love of books and music to hang on to her sanity. When Mac loses her father to cancer and her boyfriend to infidelity all in the same week, she embarks on a mission to reclaim some joy. She abandons the city life and relocates to the place where she’d been happiest in her youth: Donn’s Hill, a small town in Middle America that’s best known for an abundance of paranormal activity, especially the séances at its annual Afterlife Festival.
Mac doesn’t get much time to acclimate to small-town living before an angry poltergeist begins to stalk her, forcing her to quickly come to terms with her newly discovered psychic powers. With the help of the ghost-hunting crew of the nationally televised show Soul Searchers and a spirited tortoiseshell cat named Striker, Mac becomes bold enough to do things she never imagined possible: investigate hauntings, banish poltergeists,and generally feel happy again.
Unfortunately, in the midst of her journey of self-discovery, someone is killing off the town’s residents. Death has followed Mac to Donn’s Hill, and in the weeks leading to the Afterlife Festival, corpses are piling up. Harassed by the ghost of a murdered man, Mac must make a choice: leave town for her own safety, or stay anduse her abilities to identify the killer before she winds up joining the ranks of the spirits who wander the town.
First 250:
Someone was sitting on my bed.
I’d awoken to the thin mattress shifting beneath me when his weight pressed down near my right side. My body wanted to roll toward that lower point, but I held myself in place, not wanting to touch him. He—and I was sure it was a “he,” though I couldn’t say why—smelled foul, like rotting garbage, but hadn’t harmed me. Yet. Too frightened to scream and risk propelling my intruder into motion, I held my breath and strained my ears to hear his breathing.
I heard nothing but the hum of a car passing on the highway.
Questions pinged around inside my skull and crashed into each other. What’s going on? Is he holding his breath too? Are we locked in some kind of silent contest, the loser being the one who passes out? How did he get past the locks?
And the most pressing questions of all, the ones I’d need to move to answer: Who is he? What does he want from me?
It couldn’t be anything good. People who want to do good things usually knock.
Taking a chance, I opened one eye a tiny bit, creating a narrow slit between my eyelids. The motel room was pitch-black, thanks to the ancient heavy curtains and my having unplugged the digital alarm clock. Keeping my arm under the covers, I crept my left hand toward the nightstand.
Slowly, I told myself. Don’t make a sound.
Faster! my lungs screamed at me.
QK Round 2: Cuddles and Coups vs. Irish in America
Title: The Dictator’s WifeEntry Nickname: Cuddles and CoupsWord count: 82KGenre: Adult Dark Romantic Suspense
Query:
A military dictatorship governs Britain, led by the First Lord of the Treasury, Julien St John Helmsley. Julien is charming, charismatic, and utterly ruthless, particularly towards the resistance group known as the Treaty.
Melanie Bonham, a member of the Treaty and enemy of the state, accepts her commanding officer’s orders for a deadly last stand. She must become the First Lord’s mistress, learn his secrets, and then assassinate him. Failure would mean torture, death, and vicious retaliation against the rebels, but success could restore democracy.
But Melanie has a secret. Before she faked her death and fled to the Treaty in disguise, she was Julien’s beloved but equally merciless wife. Instead of sneaking into the Regime’s stronghold as the Treaty expects, she makes a triumphant return as the long-lost First Lady, claiming the rebels have held her prisoner for years.
In love with the man she’s meant to kill and tempted by absolute power, “Melanie” must choose between freeing the country and breaking her heart or ruling at Julien’s side and losing her soul – before both sides seek to execute her as a traitor. Alternating chapters jump backwards and forwards in time to tell the story of the idealistic build-up to the military coup and the brutal realities of its aftermath and to reveal why our rather unreliable narrator really left, why she’s really returned and where her true loyalties lie. First 250:
I became a triple-agent on the eighth anniversary of Britain’s military coup.
That morning, I strode into the Treaty’s underground control room and pushed through the crowd until I reached the resistance leader.
“Good of you to finally join us, Melanie.” Without another word, David set our hacked CCTV feed to show Somerset House. The elegant arches and columns of the Regime’s London headquarters formed a stark contrast to this utilitarian network of abandoned mines. I studied the soldiers guarding the archway and the helicopters hovering above the courtyard, but the larger-than-life portraits covering the façade demanded my attention.
Honour the First Lord ordered the painting on the left, which depicted a striking man in replica nineteenth-century military uniform. Remember the Eternal Blessed First Lady mourned its companion. My co-conspirators considered its subject a she-devil in life and their most high-profile victim in death.
“The Regime bombed Derby last week for supporting our cause. Yesterday, they wiped out an entire platoon. We need to stop the First Lord once and for all.” Years of outdoor living had given David muscles and a hearty glow. When he spoke, people listened.
I ignored him.
My eyes lingered on the second portrait until I was content the so-called Eternal Blessed First Lady’s curves, red lips and Dior gown bore no resemblance to my soldier’s body and weather-beaten face. Besides, the dictator’s wife had been famous for her Rapunzel curls, and I’d cropped my hair to the skull five years ago when I’d fled to the Treaty.
VERSUS
Title: Donovan
Entry Nickname: Irish in America
Word Count: 100,000
Genre: Adult Historical Romance
Query:
When Jesse Travers' father and brother die, they leave her with two things: a crumbling ranch and a deep well of distrust.
Shunned by the village for her outlaw brother's deeds, Jesse is not sorry to hear he's been killed while robbing a bank. Strangely enough it is Adam Donovan, the man who shot her brother, who brings the news. Even more strange, considering his reputation as a gunfighter, is the Irish immigrant's willingness to help put her ranch back on solid footing.
The Arizona Territory of the 1880s was never kind to a woman alone, and Jesse's experiences with her neighbors have left her jaded. But love for her canyon home overcomes her trepidation, and she accepts Donovan's help. He seems gentle and empathetic, a far cry from her brother, whose relentless abuse drove her to the brink of despair, or her father, who would never believe the things Jesse told him about her brother.
As they work together, Jesse begins to let down her guard, and feels the first stirrings of love–an experience she's never known before. On the verge of believing she might be worthy of happiness, Jesse discovers that hermongrel brother's treachery has consequences that reach beyond the grave,and they might rip the new life she's building to shreds.
If the truth comes out, Jesse knows the villagers will blame her for her brother's crimes–they've done it all along. Her only recourse is to confide in Donovan and hope he'll stand with her. But if she's wrong about him, she's doomed to a lifetime of solitude and shame.
First 250:
Jesse Travers stood in the cabin door, willing her hands to unclench, her jaw to relax. The old man who sat wrapped in a blanket by the fire was being more querulous than usual. He can’t help it, she told herself, any more than he can help being old. Or crippled. But God help us if this day doesn’t end soon.
The clearing where the cabin stood was too quiet. No breeze stirred the aspen leaves. No birds trilled, no squirrels scampered. Even the brook ran silently today.
The only restful thing was the occasional glimpse of buckskin in the sycamores. The old man always told her that wild animals knew where there was danger and would run away. So maybe it’s nothing–maybe it’s just too hot for April. Maybe that’s what makes me feel so sick.
Then the utter silence yielded to the faint clip-clop of horse’s hooves.
No one should be coming. No one ever came. She tasted the sharp metal of fear. As the hoofbeats closed in, she took up an old Sharps rifle and moved out onto the sagging porch, into the shadows of its roof.
Round the edge of the cottonwood grove, the horse ambled into sight. Its rider had dark hair, dark clothes, a dark gun sitting low on his left hip.There isn’t anyone in the Territory who doesn’t know who he is. And where he comes from. Squaring her shoulders and raising the rifle, she took a single step into the light.
Query:
A military dictatorship governs Britain, led by the First Lord of the Treasury, Julien St John Helmsley. Julien is charming, charismatic, and utterly ruthless, particularly towards the resistance group known as the Treaty.
Melanie Bonham, a member of the Treaty and enemy of the state, accepts her commanding officer’s orders for a deadly last stand. She must become the First Lord’s mistress, learn his secrets, and then assassinate him. Failure would mean torture, death, and vicious retaliation against the rebels, but success could restore democracy.
But Melanie has a secret. Before she faked her death and fled to the Treaty in disguise, she was Julien’s beloved but equally merciless wife. Instead of sneaking into the Regime’s stronghold as the Treaty expects, she makes a triumphant return as the long-lost First Lady, claiming the rebels have held her prisoner for years.
In love with the man she’s meant to kill and tempted by absolute power, “Melanie” must choose between freeing the country and breaking her heart or ruling at Julien’s side and losing her soul – before both sides seek to execute her as a traitor. Alternating chapters jump backwards and forwards in time to tell the story of the idealistic build-up to the military coup and the brutal realities of its aftermath and to reveal why our rather unreliable narrator really left, why she’s really returned and where her true loyalties lie. First 250:
I became a triple-agent on the eighth anniversary of Britain’s military coup.
That morning, I strode into the Treaty’s underground control room and pushed through the crowd until I reached the resistance leader.
“Good of you to finally join us, Melanie.” Without another word, David set our hacked CCTV feed to show Somerset House. The elegant arches and columns of the Regime’s London headquarters formed a stark contrast to this utilitarian network of abandoned mines. I studied the soldiers guarding the archway and the helicopters hovering above the courtyard, but the larger-than-life portraits covering the façade demanded my attention.
Honour the First Lord ordered the painting on the left, which depicted a striking man in replica nineteenth-century military uniform. Remember the Eternal Blessed First Lady mourned its companion. My co-conspirators considered its subject a she-devil in life and their most high-profile victim in death.
“The Regime bombed Derby last week for supporting our cause. Yesterday, they wiped out an entire platoon. We need to stop the First Lord once and for all.” Years of outdoor living had given David muscles and a hearty glow. When he spoke, people listened.
I ignored him.
My eyes lingered on the second portrait until I was content the so-called Eternal Blessed First Lady’s curves, red lips and Dior gown bore no resemblance to my soldier’s body and weather-beaten face. Besides, the dictator’s wife had been famous for her Rapunzel curls, and I’d cropped my hair to the skull five years ago when I’d fled to the Treaty.
VERSUS
Title: Donovan
Entry Nickname: Irish in America
Word Count: 100,000
Genre: Adult Historical Romance
Query:
When Jesse Travers' father and brother die, they leave her with two things: a crumbling ranch and a deep well of distrust.
Shunned by the village for her outlaw brother's deeds, Jesse is not sorry to hear he's been killed while robbing a bank. Strangely enough it is Adam Donovan, the man who shot her brother, who brings the news. Even more strange, considering his reputation as a gunfighter, is the Irish immigrant's willingness to help put her ranch back on solid footing.
The Arizona Territory of the 1880s was never kind to a woman alone, and Jesse's experiences with her neighbors have left her jaded. But love for her canyon home overcomes her trepidation, and she accepts Donovan's help. He seems gentle and empathetic, a far cry from her brother, whose relentless abuse drove her to the brink of despair, or her father, who would never believe the things Jesse told him about her brother.
As they work together, Jesse begins to let down her guard, and feels the first stirrings of love–an experience she's never known before. On the verge of believing she might be worthy of happiness, Jesse discovers that hermongrel brother's treachery has consequences that reach beyond the grave,and they might rip the new life she's building to shreds.
If the truth comes out, Jesse knows the villagers will blame her for her brother's crimes–they've done it all along. Her only recourse is to confide in Donovan and hope he'll stand with her. But if she's wrong about him, she's doomed to a lifetime of solitude and shame.
First 250:
Jesse Travers stood in the cabin door, willing her hands to unclench, her jaw to relax. The old man who sat wrapped in a blanket by the fire was being more querulous than usual. He can’t help it, she told herself, any more than he can help being old. Or crippled. But God help us if this day doesn’t end soon.
The clearing where the cabin stood was too quiet. No breeze stirred the aspen leaves. No birds trilled, no squirrels scampered. Even the brook ran silently today.
The only restful thing was the occasional glimpse of buckskin in the sycamores. The old man always told her that wild animals knew where there was danger and would run away. So maybe it’s nothing–maybe it’s just too hot for April. Maybe that’s what makes me feel so sick.
Then the utter silence yielded to the faint clip-clop of horse’s hooves.
No one should be coming. No one ever came. She tasted the sharp metal of fear. As the hoofbeats closed in, she took up an old Sharps rifle and moved out onto the sagging porch, into the shadows of its roof.
Round the edge of the cottonwood grove, the horse ambled into sight. Its rider had dark hair, dark clothes, a dark gun sitting low on his left hip.There isn’t anyone in the Territory who doesn’t know who he is. And where he comes from. Squaring her shoulders and raising the rifle, she took a single step into the light.
QK Round 2: Meet Me at Lake Nevaeh vs. These Little Earthquakes
Title: Lost Inside Her
Nickname: Meet Me at Lake Nevaeh
Word count: 71,000
Genre: YA Thriller
Query:
For as long as seventeen-year-old Violet can remember, she’s had a voice in her head she calls Gabby. She’s her best friend. And to Violet, she’s real. But to her doctors and parents, the voice is a mysterious mental aberration they’ve tried treating for years with meds and therapy. But nothing’s worked.
Usually playful and carefree, Gabby’s visits are now filling Violet with unexplainable fear, and even making her dizzy and nauseous. Worried they’ll put her away for good, Violet keeps Gabby’s troubles to herself. When Neil joins her English class and they connect in church, his down-to-earth, gentle nature draws her closer. So close, she trusts him with her secret. And he’s the first to believe her.
But Gabby doesn't trust Neil. She rebels, causing blackouts and strange bruises that land Violet in the hospital, and now they want to send her for long-term testing. Feeling betrayed by everyone, Violet runs away with Neil to his reservation, where his grandfather performs a shamanic ritual. In a trance-like vision, Violet enters one of her own body’s cells and witnesses how her atoms’ electrons link her—through a long-distance magnetic force—to another person. A real person. It explains her blackouts and bruises. They’re really Gabby’s. And Gabby is in big trouble.
When police arrest Neil for harboring a runaway, Violet escapes in his truck. Now on her own to save Gabby, all Violet has to work with are cryptic clues about Gabby’s location and Neil’s intelligent dog. If Violet can’t save her, she not only jeopardizes her own safety, she risks losing her lifelong friend and the first guy who ever believed in her.
First 250:
Three days since I’d secretly quit taking my meds. Or was it four? This might have ranked as the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Huddled in the back seat of Dad’s SUV, I forced my eyes open. Swirling gray clouds dumped more rain onto the street, already flooded from a week of late-September storms.
That spot where Gabby lived in my head was empty. For now, anyway. After all her drama, insisting I “stop the drugs,” she hadn’t even popped in since I’d quit. Maybe it was better that way. Because just thinking about how weird she’d been acting lately made me sweat all over. Staring out the window, tears filled my eyes, blurring the falling rain. I didn’t even know my best friend anymore. I almost wished she’d never visit me again.
A gust whipped fat drops against the windshield, forcing Dad to slow down and lean forward. We crawled through the downpour and turned into the mini mart’s lot. While Dad ran in for drinks, Mom flipped down the visor’s mirror and applied that bright-red lipstick I hated. She saw me looking at her. “You still mad at me?”
“I was tired. I didn’t mean to yell.” I’d swear she was more concerned about being yelled at than why I was so upset when she woke me for church. I’d barely slept all night, and I really wanted to tell her why. Tell Dad. Tell someone.
Gabby’s mantra echoed: Keep it inside, where it’s safe with me and you.
VERSUS
Title: Where the Waves Go
Entry Nickname: These Little Earthquakes
Word Count: 64K
Genre: YA Contemporary
Query:
Seventeen-year-old Charlie Elliott has always run away from life. She drinks to escape her depression, fools around with guys to ease her loneliness, and hangs out in cemeteries to avoid the living. After she's dumped by the first boy she ever loved, Charlie's drinking spirals out of control. Her mother kicks her out of the house, so Charlie leaves her hometown of Ann Arbor, Michigan, for the city of her dreams: Los Angeles.
Charlie is ready for a fresh start—the only problem is she has no money and no plan. Unwilling to go back to the place where everyone knows her past, Charlie sleeps in a lifeguard tower on the Venice Beach Boardwalk, sharing the space with a stray cat and a schizophrenic homeless man. Life on the streets is harder than anything she’s faced before, and she turns to drinking once again to numb her pain.
Fortunately, Charlie meets Les, an awkward 16-year-old gamer. Charlie crashes with Les when she gets sick, and they quickly develop feelings for each other. But without a job or place to live, Charlie doesn't have long to decide whether she should go back to Ann Arbor and face her addiction or stay in L.A. where she has nothing...except for Les.
First 250:
The familiar sting slides down my throat as I take a sip of whiskey. It’s sharp and hollow at the same time. I don’t wince when I feel it, not anymore. Instead, I find it soothing, knowing the relief that the sting will ultimately bring me.
The music is loud, some rap song I’ve never heard before. Stacey Harrington stands right in front of me but might as well be a thousand miles away. She’s saying something about the new exhibit at the University of Michigan Museum of Art, trying to sound intelligent and cultured. Normally, I would force a smile and tell her about the time I went to the Louvre in Paris. I’d talk about how tiny the Mona Lisa is in real life and pretend to be sophisticated and discerning, despite the fact that Paris is the only foreign city I’ve ever been to and it was back when I was ten.
But I don’t feel like playing that game. I haven’t felt like it in a while.
Stacey’s blonde hair is up in the highest ponytail imaginable, and over the top of her head, I see someone step through the front door. Suddenly, I don’t hear the music anymore. I don’t see Stacey, or smell the scent of booze and mildew, or feel the plastic cup gripped in my hand. Everything around me halts to a stop.
It’s Trevor.
His dark brown eyes scan the room like he’s looking for someone, the way he used to look for me.
Nickname: Meet Me at Lake Nevaeh
Word count: 71,000
Genre: YA Thriller
Query:
For as long as seventeen-year-old Violet can remember, she’s had a voice in her head she calls Gabby. She’s her best friend. And to Violet, she’s real. But to her doctors and parents, the voice is a mysterious mental aberration they’ve tried treating for years with meds and therapy. But nothing’s worked.
Usually playful and carefree, Gabby’s visits are now filling Violet with unexplainable fear, and even making her dizzy and nauseous. Worried they’ll put her away for good, Violet keeps Gabby’s troubles to herself. When Neil joins her English class and they connect in church, his down-to-earth, gentle nature draws her closer. So close, she trusts him with her secret. And he’s the first to believe her.
But Gabby doesn't trust Neil. She rebels, causing blackouts and strange bruises that land Violet in the hospital, and now they want to send her for long-term testing. Feeling betrayed by everyone, Violet runs away with Neil to his reservation, where his grandfather performs a shamanic ritual. In a trance-like vision, Violet enters one of her own body’s cells and witnesses how her atoms’ electrons link her—through a long-distance magnetic force—to another person. A real person. It explains her blackouts and bruises. They’re really Gabby’s. And Gabby is in big trouble.
When police arrest Neil for harboring a runaway, Violet escapes in his truck. Now on her own to save Gabby, all Violet has to work with are cryptic clues about Gabby’s location and Neil’s intelligent dog. If Violet can’t save her, she not only jeopardizes her own safety, she risks losing her lifelong friend and the first guy who ever believed in her.
First 250:
Three days since I’d secretly quit taking my meds. Or was it four? This might have ranked as the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Huddled in the back seat of Dad’s SUV, I forced my eyes open. Swirling gray clouds dumped more rain onto the street, already flooded from a week of late-September storms.
That spot where Gabby lived in my head was empty. For now, anyway. After all her drama, insisting I “stop the drugs,” she hadn’t even popped in since I’d quit. Maybe it was better that way. Because just thinking about how weird she’d been acting lately made me sweat all over. Staring out the window, tears filled my eyes, blurring the falling rain. I didn’t even know my best friend anymore. I almost wished she’d never visit me again.
A gust whipped fat drops against the windshield, forcing Dad to slow down and lean forward. We crawled through the downpour and turned into the mini mart’s lot. While Dad ran in for drinks, Mom flipped down the visor’s mirror and applied that bright-red lipstick I hated. She saw me looking at her. “You still mad at me?”
“I was tired. I didn’t mean to yell.” I’d swear she was more concerned about being yelled at than why I was so upset when she woke me for church. I’d barely slept all night, and I really wanted to tell her why. Tell Dad. Tell someone.
Gabby’s mantra echoed: Keep it inside, where it’s safe with me and you.
VERSUS
Title: Where the Waves Go
Entry Nickname: These Little Earthquakes
Word Count: 64K
Genre: YA Contemporary
Query:
Seventeen-year-old Charlie Elliott has always run away from life. She drinks to escape her depression, fools around with guys to ease her loneliness, and hangs out in cemeteries to avoid the living. After she's dumped by the first boy she ever loved, Charlie's drinking spirals out of control. Her mother kicks her out of the house, so Charlie leaves her hometown of Ann Arbor, Michigan, for the city of her dreams: Los Angeles.
Charlie is ready for a fresh start—the only problem is she has no money and no plan. Unwilling to go back to the place where everyone knows her past, Charlie sleeps in a lifeguard tower on the Venice Beach Boardwalk, sharing the space with a stray cat and a schizophrenic homeless man. Life on the streets is harder than anything she’s faced before, and she turns to drinking once again to numb her pain.
Fortunately, Charlie meets Les, an awkward 16-year-old gamer. Charlie crashes with Les when she gets sick, and they quickly develop feelings for each other. But without a job or place to live, Charlie doesn't have long to decide whether she should go back to Ann Arbor and face her addiction or stay in L.A. where she has nothing...except for Les.
First 250:
The familiar sting slides down my throat as I take a sip of whiskey. It’s sharp and hollow at the same time. I don’t wince when I feel it, not anymore. Instead, I find it soothing, knowing the relief that the sting will ultimately bring me.
The music is loud, some rap song I’ve never heard before. Stacey Harrington stands right in front of me but might as well be a thousand miles away. She’s saying something about the new exhibit at the University of Michigan Museum of Art, trying to sound intelligent and cultured. Normally, I would force a smile and tell her about the time I went to the Louvre in Paris. I’d talk about how tiny the Mona Lisa is in real life and pretend to be sophisticated and discerning, despite the fact that Paris is the only foreign city I’ve ever been to and it was back when I was ten.
But I don’t feel like playing that game. I haven’t felt like it in a while.
Stacey’s blonde hair is up in the highest ponytail imaginable, and over the top of her head, I see someone step through the front door. Suddenly, I don’t hear the music anymore. I don’t see Stacey, or smell the scent of booze and mildew, or feel the plastic cup gripped in my hand. Everything around me halts to a stop.
It’s Trevor.
His dark brown eyes scan the room like he’s looking for someone, the way he used to look for me.
QK Round 2: Southern Gothic Secret vs. Ticket to Ride
Title: JimmerEntry Nickname: Southern Gothic SecretsWord count: 68KGenre: YA Historical/Southern Gothic
Query:
Sixteen-year-old Jimmer Stark passes for white in an intolerant southern town. She aspires to become a nurse and leave the Mississippi backwoods in the summer of 1920, but her father steals her school savings. Guided only by the spirits of her Choctaw ancestors, she must find a way to fund her education. An offer of a fake engagement with a judge’s son and payment for the ruse seems the simple solution until a racist schoolmate’s obsession with her threatens her family due to their black and Choctaw connections. Jimmer must sacrifice a chance at love and contemplate murder to save her sister from a KKK lynching. Risking everything for her sister’s life will likely end Jimmer’s dream, but the process may free her from the oppression that has gripped her family for generations and help her forge a new life.
First 250 words:
Jimmer lifted her shotgun. Pinkish-white petals fluttered downward in the apple orchard like confetti tossed at a wedding.
A fox squirrel scampered along an apple branch. Carefully, she sighted it and squeezed the trigger. The blast of the shot was followed by a thump.
"Fetch, Little Bit."
Her coonhound raced through the tangled underbrush.
"A gal who can hunt like that will catch a fine husband." The thread of pride in Pa's voice was unmistakable. He spat a stream of tobacco juice into the dirt.
Jimmer ignored his praise. Pa'd spent her college money, her hard-earned ten dollars, without a word. He'd swiped it from the jar under her bed and gone to the harness races. Words piled up against her teeth, wanting to break out, but she clenched her jaw shut. Only careful words would keep Pa under control. He hadn't been himself for so long, and she wondered if he ever would be.
"Still mad about that money?" Pa gave her shoulder a rough shake. "Hell, college isn't for you, gal. Focus on your hope chest like your sister Eddie Lee. You ain't ugly. Who knows what beau you'll land?"
She fixed her eyes on the combed over bald spot on Pa's head. He was a little man. She'd passed him in height at twelve years old and now, at sixteen, towered over him.
"I'm not Eddie Lee."
"Not by half. Now, run that squirrel home for your grandmother to stew.”
VERSUS
Title: BREAKING DOWN GLASS DOORSEntry Nickname: Ticket to RideWord count: 78KGenre: YA contemporary
Query:
Seventeen-year-old Jack wants to escape his narrow-minded Appalachian hometown more than anything. His family’s welfare checks pay for little more than food on the table, his mom’s pastor won’t stop lecturing him about the sinfulness of lust, and the rumors about his sexuality floating around school make him feel unsafe at every turn. The only thing worth looking forward to is the full-ridescholarship with his name on it—his one-way ticket to a better life.
But his plans hadn’t involved falling for Casey, the boy from the trailer park down the road who understands him in ways no one else in their town can. With the countdown to college ticking away, there’s only a limited amount of time to make the most out of their relationship. And unfortunately for Jack, using his scholarship means leaving Casey behind.
Then, right before college starts, his mother tries to commit suicide, blaming her attempt on her son’s sexual orientation. Overwhelmed with guilt, Jack finds his mental state heading in the same direction as his mom’s. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t slept since she kicked him out of her room at the psychiatric clinic, or that Casey hasn’t returned any of his calls since the incident. Now, Jack must learn to balance the life he’s been dealt and the life he wants before he can patch up the situation with his mom and win back the guy he loves.
First 250:
Jack snapped his head around the instant he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
What was different? Had the shower curtain moved? He swiped a hand over his face to clear away the soapy water, then jerked his attention to each corner of the shower stall. Nothing, nothing, and nothing. The only thing within reach was his tiny bottle of shampoo.
Wait—
Jack turned to the bar above the curtain and saw it: Nothing. No clothes hanging over it, no towel, even though they’d been there just moments before.
Shit.
He rotated the lever until the water stopped flowing. Surely this couldn’t be happening. His towel must’ve fallen off the curtain rod. His clothes, too. Because there was no way someone had taken them. Right?
Jack placed a hand on the shower curtain, ready to pull it back. Then he noticed the real source of the problem: the noise level in the locker room also fell into the “nothing” category. He heard no talking, no footsteps, no lockers slamming. Had he lost track of time? Had he been so focused on his thoughts—what was he thinking about, again?—that he’d missed when the entire gym class left?
With a turn of his wrist, he peeled back the edge of the shower curtain. His gaze landed on the bare floor, the empty bench, and the vacated shower stalls. The only sound prickling his ears was his own breathing.
Everyone was gone. And they’d taken his clothes on their way out.
Query:
Sixteen-year-old Jimmer Stark passes for white in an intolerant southern town. She aspires to become a nurse and leave the Mississippi backwoods in the summer of 1920, but her father steals her school savings. Guided only by the spirits of her Choctaw ancestors, she must find a way to fund her education. An offer of a fake engagement with a judge’s son and payment for the ruse seems the simple solution until a racist schoolmate’s obsession with her threatens her family due to their black and Choctaw connections. Jimmer must sacrifice a chance at love and contemplate murder to save her sister from a KKK lynching. Risking everything for her sister’s life will likely end Jimmer’s dream, but the process may free her from the oppression that has gripped her family for generations and help her forge a new life.
First 250 words:
Jimmer lifted her shotgun. Pinkish-white petals fluttered downward in the apple orchard like confetti tossed at a wedding.
A fox squirrel scampered along an apple branch. Carefully, she sighted it and squeezed the trigger. The blast of the shot was followed by a thump.
"Fetch, Little Bit."
Her coonhound raced through the tangled underbrush.
"A gal who can hunt like that will catch a fine husband." The thread of pride in Pa's voice was unmistakable. He spat a stream of tobacco juice into the dirt.
Jimmer ignored his praise. Pa'd spent her college money, her hard-earned ten dollars, without a word. He'd swiped it from the jar under her bed and gone to the harness races. Words piled up against her teeth, wanting to break out, but she clenched her jaw shut. Only careful words would keep Pa under control. He hadn't been himself for so long, and she wondered if he ever would be.
"Still mad about that money?" Pa gave her shoulder a rough shake. "Hell, college isn't for you, gal. Focus on your hope chest like your sister Eddie Lee. You ain't ugly. Who knows what beau you'll land?"
She fixed her eyes on the combed over bald spot on Pa's head. He was a little man. She'd passed him in height at twelve years old and now, at sixteen, towered over him.
"I'm not Eddie Lee."
"Not by half. Now, run that squirrel home for your grandmother to stew.”
VERSUS
Title: BREAKING DOWN GLASS DOORSEntry Nickname: Ticket to RideWord count: 78KGenre: YA contemporary
Query:
Seventeen-year-old Jack wants to escape his narrow-minded Appalachian hometown more than anything. His family’s welfare checks pay for little more than food on the table, his mom’s pastor won’t stop lecturing him about the sinfulness of lust, and the rumors about his sexuality floating around school make him feel unsafe at every turn. The only thing worth looking forward to is the full-ridescholarship with his name on it—his one-way ticket to a better life.
But his plans hadn’t involved falling for Casey, the boy from the trailer park down the road who understands him in ways no one else in their town can. With the countdown to college ticking away, there’s only a limited amount of time to make the most out of their relationship. And unfortunately for Jack, using his scholarship means leaving Casey behind.
Then, right before college starts, his mother tries to commit suicide, blaming her attempt on her son’s sexual orientation. Overwhelmed with guilt, Jack finds his mental state heading in the same direction as his mom’s. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t slept since she kicked him out of her room at the psychiatric clinic, or that Casey hasn’t returned any of his calls since the incident. Now, Jack must learn to balance the life he’s been dealt and the life he wants before he can patch up the situation with his mom and win back the guy he loves.
First 250:
Jack snapped his head around the instant he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
What was different? Had the shower curtain moved? He swiped a hand over his face to clear away the soapy water, then jerked his attention to each corner of the shower stall. Nothing, nothing, and nothing. The only thing within reach was his tiny bottle of shampoo.
Wait—
Jack turned to the bar above the curtain and saw it: Nothing. No clothes hanging over it, no towel, even though they’d been there just moments before.
Shit.
He rotated the lever until the water stopped flowing. Surely this couldn’t be happening. His towel must’ve fallen off the curtain rod. His clothes, too. Because there was no way someone had taken them. Right?
Jack placed a hand on the shower curtain, ready to pull it back. Then he noticed the real source of the problem: the noise level in the locker room also fell into the “nothing” category. He heard no talking, no footsteps, no lockers slamming. Had he lost track of time? Had he been so focused on his thoughts—what was he thinking about, again?—that he’d missed when the entire gym class left?
With a turn of his wrist, he peeled back the edge of the shower curtain. His gaze landed on the bare floor, the empty bench, and the vacated shower stalls. The only sound prickling his ears was his own breathing.
Everyone was gone. And they’d taken his clothes on their way out.
QK Round 2: Partners-In-Magic vs. Humanimals
Title: SpellbindersEntry Nickname: Partners-in-Magic Word count: 75KGenre: Middle Grade Fantasy
Query:
When twelve-year-old Sam heals a dying cat with her bare hands, her world gets turned on its head. Magic exists in boring upstate New York—that’s a surprise. Sam has magical powers—that’s a bigger surprise. But the biggest surprise of all is that Sam used to know all this, before a magical accident destroyed her memory. Sam learns she used to have a best friend named Gabe. When Gabe reappears in her life, Sam can’t figure out why she ever liked this smirking, snarky elf. Unfortunately, she’s stuck with him. Sam’s guardian Aunt Jo explains: as Spellbinders, they must hold hands with a partner to perform most spells, and Gabe is Sam’s partner. For life. To make matters worse, Spellbinders are disappearing. When Aunt Jo is kidnapped, too, Sam and Gabe set out to rescue her. But the path to Jo is dangerous. They don’t know whom to trust, they can’t quite control their own powers yet, and they seem to have their own set of kidnappers on their trail. If they have any chance of rescuing Aunt Jo and discovering who is behind these disappearances, Sam and Gabe must follow the oldest Spellbinder maxim in history: collaborate or perish.
First 250:
Unlike most twelve-year-olds, Samantha Jacobson had a stalker. He was small, grey and white, and quite possibly the most irritating stray in cat history. He watched Sam every morning as she tried to tame her straggly mane of hair into a ponytail. He watched her every evening as she kissed a photograph of her mother goodnight. No matter where she was, what she was doing, or how many locked doors stood between them, the stalker cat would find his way to her side and stare. She called the cat Creep.
It was week 4 of Creep-gate, and Sam felt like a prisoner in her own house (complete with her own furry prison guard). It was also the last day of 6th grade, which meant her problem was about to get a lot worse. She would soon have to endure eight more hours of disapproving cat-stares each day.
While her teachers talked about summer assignments, Sam huddled over her notebook writing a plea to Aunt Jo for help with her “Creep problem.” She planned to deliver it that evening at dinner. This was a desperate move and Sam knew it. Aunt Jo loved cats and had a particular soft spot for mangy strays like Creep. All the strays in upstate New York had free rein on their property. At least six of them had colonized the sprawling vegetable gardens outside Sam’s window.
Sam fiddled with her glasses and bit her lip. Hopefully, Aunt Jo wasn’t kidding when she said she appreciated a well-reasoned argument.
VERSUS
Title: The Wildlife Preserve for Nearly Normal HumansEntry Nickname: HumanimalsWord Count: 79,000Genre: MG Fantasy
Query:
When Ricky Chase turns twelve, he learns about the world of Legionnaires, boys and girls who change into animals to battle evil, and he is one of them. As a Legionnaire, he’s whisked away to train at the American Preserve in NYC. Expecting a gothic fantasy castle, Ricky’s is surprised to find that the Preserve is a magical Daft-Punk-style New York Times skyscraper, with techno music, auto clothing, airvators (elevators of air), and water slides that go from floor to floor on demand, all for the purpose of training the world’s most elite children in the unique craft of channeling their inner animal. Not only do Legionnaires develop theiranimal’s coolest abilities, but their dietary preferences as well—Ricky crosses his fingers that he becomes something other than a beaver—ick.
While Legionnaires can only channel one animal each, their enemies, the Skahdi, change into grotesque combinations of creatures, becoming fierce chimera-like warriors. Ricky struggles during his first year and ends up changing into three different animals, casting suspicion that he is an enemy spy. As this suspicion mounts, and the Skahdi destroy the Asian Preserve in a brutal attack, Ricky turns to his newfound friends for help—in particular, Mina, a Korean girl who transferred from the ruined Asian Preserve and who shares a dangerous secret in common with Ricky. But then Mina disappears, abducted by the real spy.
Now, Ricky must not only prove his innocence, but master his fledgling abilities and channel his true animal or he’ll never defeat the traitor and save Mina in time.
First 250:
Ricky stretched and gazed down through his bedroom window at the bustling Manhattan streets. The morning sun cast long shadows as people pinballed down the sidewalks, scurrying off to wherever it was they went. Cabbies honked and hollered, and pigeons pecked and pooped.
The thin alley across the street loomed dark and quiet as usual, until a teenage boy emerged into the light and locked eyes with Ricky. He wore blue jeans and a gray hoodie, but instead of shoes, he had huge webbed feet, like an enormous bullfrog, and his hands were massive, red lobster claws.
Ricky chuckled and gave him two thumbs up for the costume. Maybe he was a foster kid too, and made extra cash dressing up for tourists in Times Square. The boy's lips curled back like a wolf protecting a kill, his eyes still locked on Ricky.
Ricky glanced over at Carlos who sat on his bed sketching a giraffe in a tuxedo. “Hey, come check out this guy’s costume.”
Carlos nestled his pencil behind his ear, its yellow shaft contrasting with his black hair, then plodded over. The boy was still there, but his lobster claws and webbed feet were gone, replaced by regular hands and shoes. Ricky shook his head. Impossible. He'd only glanced away for a second. He pulled off his glasses, rubbed the lenses with his t-shirt, and slid them back on. Same.
“What, that guy?” Carlos asked, pointing.
“But he was just—” Ricky pressed his face to the window.
Query:
When twelve-year-old Sam heals a dying cat with her bare hands, her world gets turned on its head. Magic exists in boring upstate New York—that’s a surprise. Sam has magical powers—that’s a bigger surprise. But the biggest surprise of all is that Sam used to know all this, before a magical accident destroyed her memory. Sam learns she used to have a best friend named Gabe. When Gabe reappears in her life, Sam can’t figure out why she ever liked this smirking, snarky elf. Unfortunately, she’s stuck with him. Sam’s guardian Aunt Jo explains: as Spellbinders, they must hold hands with a partner to perform most spells, and Gabe is Sam’s partner. For life. To make matters worse, Spellbinders are disappearing. When Aunt Jo is kidnapped, too, Sam and Gabe set out to rescue her. But the path to Jo is dangerous. They don’t know whom to trust, they can’t quite control their own powers yet, and they seem to have their own set of kidnappers on their trail. If they have any chance of rescuing Aunt Jo and discovering who is behind these disappearances, Sam and Gabe must follow the oldest Spellbinder maxim in history: collaborate or perish.
First 250:
Unlike most twelve-year-olds, Samantha Jacobson had a stalker. He was small, grey and white, and quite possibly the most irritating stray in cat history. He watched Sam every morning as she tried to tame her straggly mane of hair into a ponytail. He watched her every evening as she kissed a photograph of her mother goodnight. No matter where she was, what she was doing, or how many locked doors stood between them, the stalker cat would find his way to her side and stare. She called the cat Creep.
It was week 4 of Creep-gate, and Sam felt like a prisoner in her own house (complete with her own furry prison guard). It was also the last day of 6th grade, which meant her problem was about to get a lot worse. She would soon have to endure eight more hours of disapproving cat-stares each day.
While her teachers talked about summer assignments, Sam huddled over her notebook writing a plea to Aunt Jo for help with her “Creep problem.” She planned to deliver it that evening at dinner. This was a desperate move and Sam knew it. Aunt Jo loved cats and had a particular soft spot for mangy strays like Creep. All the strays in upstate New York had free rein on their property. At least six of them had colonized the sprawling vegetable gardens outside Sam’s window.
Sam fiddled with her glasses and bit her lip. Hopefully, Aunt Jo wasn’t kidding when she said she appreciated a well-reasoned argument.
VERSUS
Title: The Wildlife Preserve for Nearly Normal HumansEntry Nickname: HumanimalsWord Count: 79,000Genre: MG Fantasy
Query:
When Ricky Chase turns twelve, he learns about the world of Legionnaires, boys and girls who change into animals to battle evil, and he is one of them. As a Legionnaire, he’s whisked away to train at the American Preserve in NYC. Expecting a gothic fantasy castle, Ricky’s is surprised to find that the Preserve is a magical Daft-Punk-style New York Times skyscraper, with techno music, auto clothing, airvators (elevators of air), and water slides that go from floor to floor on demand, all for the purpose of training the world’s most elite children in the unique craft of channeling their inner animal. Not only do Legionnaires develop theiranimal’s coolest abilities, but their dietary preferences as well—Ricky crosses his fingers that he becomes something other than a beaver—ick.
While Legionnaires can only channel one animal each, their enemies, the Skahdi, change into grotesque combinations of creatures, becoming fierce chimera-like warriors. Ricky struggles during his first year and ends up changing into three different animals, casting suspicion that he is an enemy spy. As this suspicion mounts, and the Skahdi destroy the Asian Preserve in a brutal attack, Ricky turns to his newfound friends for help—in particular, Mina, a Korean girl who transferred from the ruined Asian Preserve and who shares a dangerous secret in common with Ricky. But then Mina disappears, abducted by the real spy.
Now, Ricky must not only prove his innocence, but master his fledgling abilities and channel his true animal or he’ll never defeat the traitor and save Mina in time.
First 250:
Ricky stretched and gazed down through his bedroom window at the bustling Manhattan streets. The morning sun cast long shadows as people pinballed down the sidewalks, scurrying off to wherever it was they went. Cabbies honked and hollered, and pigeons pecked and pooped.
The thin alley across the street loomed dark and quiet as usual, until a teenage boy emerged into the light and locked eyes with Ricky. He wore blue jeans and a gray hoodie, but instead of shoes, he had huge webbed feet, like an enormous bullfrog, and his hands were massive, red lobster claws.
Ricky chuckled and gave him two thumbs up for the costume. Maybe he was a foster kid too, and made extra cash dressing up for tourists in Times Square. The boy's lips curled back like a wolf protecting a kill, his eyes still locked on Ricky.
Ricky glanced over at Carlos who sat on his bed sketching a giraffe in a tuxedo. “Hey, come check out this guy’s costume.”
Carlos nestled his pencil behind his ear, its yellow shaft contrasting with his black hair, then plodded over. The boy was still there, but his lobster claws and webbed feet were gone, replaced by regular hands and shoes. Ricky shook his head. Impossible. He'd only glanced away for a second. He pulled off his glasses, rubbed the lenses with his t-shirt, and slid them back on. Same.
“What, that guy?” Carlos asked, pointing.
“But he was just—” Ricky pressed his face to the window.
QK Round 2: Ice Cream Rebel Rousers vs. The Order of Black
Title: Mischief, Mysteries, and MilkshakesEntry Nickname: Ice Cream Rebel RousersWord Count: 45,000Genre: Middle Grade Mystery Humor
Query:
Eleven-year-old Gabe and his younger sister Lily are dreading summer vacation. They’d rather do anything than spend eight weeks with Aunt Helene in her creepy old house. No Wi-Fi, no cable, a grandfather clock called The Howler that randomly shrieks, and plenty of rules, the strictest of which is to stay away from the antiques—especially the old writing desk in the library. It belonged to their Great Uncle Patrick and, well, some secrets should never see the light of day.
When Aunt Helene goes out for her weekly tea, where she wears white gloves and eats tiny sandwiches stuffed with pink goo, Gabe and Lily decide that some rules are made to be broken. Finding the key, they sneak into the writing desk and discover a journal written by Patrick when he was young. The journal contains secrets about hidden rooms and tunnels throughout the house where a once-cursed treasure is allegedly buried.
Determined to learn more, Gabe and Lily enlist the help of their new friend, ten-year-old Harper, a self-proclaimed milkshake addict. Faced with riddles to solve, creepy noises that most certainly couldn’t be voices from the past, and a realization that their aunt may also be on the hunt to keep the treasure all to herself, the three children set out to unravel the mysteries of the house, in hopes of being the first to get to the hidden treasure before summer ends.
First 250 Words:
The rules for Aunt Helene’s house were clear: Nothing slimy, loud, or messy, keep all rooms neat, ask before doing anything, and no fighting with your sister.
Keeping the rules wouldn’t be impossible; they would just be annoying. As far as summers went, this one was officially going down in the books as the worst in my eleven-year history, and it hadn’t even started yet.
“Are we here?” my younger sister Lily quietly asked, clutching her doll close to her body with white knuckles as I peered out the window.
Dad had pulled the car over, but there was no sign we were getting out. Lily stared at me with wide eyes, waiting for some kind of confirmation. But how would I know if this was Aunt Helene’s house? I’d never been here before either. In fact, up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t even know we had an Aunt Helene.
“Hey, Lil,” I whispered across the back seat of the car.
“Yeah?”
“I heard Aunt Helene keeps pet rats in her basement.”
“Gabe!” Mom twisted around from the front while Dad looked at us in his rear view mirror with a smirk on his face. “Don’t tell your sister tales like that. You know she scares easily. Lily, honey, he’s just kidding. Aunt Helene is … lovely.”
“But Grandma said—” I started.
“Grandma is the reason you and your sister are going to Aunt Helene’s for the summer. Try to understand. Please?”
VERSUS
Title: The Order of Black Hollow LaneEntry Nickname: The Order of BlackWord Count: 57,000Genre: MG Mystery
Query:
Ginny’s mom is a world-renowned parenting expert with no parenting skills of her own. She doesn’t even give Ginny any warning before shipping her off to a boarding school right before her thirteenth birthday. If only Ginny’s dad was around to look after her, but he disappeared when she was three. She figures she’s heard the last of him.
Then the box arrives. It’s crammed with ornate medallions. There’s no return address, just a note that says, ‘These belonged to your father.’ Ginny thinks it’s just an old heirloom until she sees symbols from the box in an unexpected place: her new boarding school. She starts investigating and finds out her dad was a member of a mysterious student society: The Order of Black Hollow Lane.
At first it seems like nothing more than an old boys’ club, but then Ginny finds evidence that they had something to do with her dad’s disappearance. She’s desperate to learn more about what happened to him, but The Order won’t give up its secrets without a fight. Now Ginny has to decide if finding out what happened to her dad is worth the risk…even if it means risking her life.
First 250 Words:
There are certain things a mother doesn't really need to know. Trivial things, like whether or not you clipped your toe nails this morning, or that you stepped in something sticky at the park. But the box in Ginny's nightstand was not one of those things. Ginny knew it wasn't. And that's why her fingers twitched every time her mother came into her room.
"Are you ready, dear?" her mom asked as she opened the door. "The press will be here in a few—“ She put her hand to her chest and gasped.
Ginny held her breath. She had put the box away, right? If her mom saw it, if she found out....
Suddenly her mother's eyes filled with tears.
"Oh Ginny," she said with a smile, "that dress...you look just...just beautiful."
Ginny breathed out and picked at the crunchy taffeta on the front of her dress. She had to put the box out of her mind. She needed to focus today.
“Don’t you just love these little pink polka dots?” her mom asked as she brushed Ginny’s hands away from the dress. “They’re all hand-sewn, that’s why they pop out so much!”
It looked like the dress had come down with the measles. The sleeves puffed out like pink toadstools, which would come in handy if Ginny ever needed a place to hide a cat.
Query:
Eleven-year-old Gabe and his younger sister Lily are dreading summer vacation. They’d rather do anything than spend eight weeks with Aunt Helene in her creepy old house. No Wi-Fi, no cable, a grandfather clock called The Howler that randomly shrieks, and plenty of rules, the strictest of which is to stay away from the antiques—especially the old writing desk in the library. It belonged to their Great Uncle Patrick and, well, some secrets should never see the light of day.
When Aunt Helene goes out for her weekly tea, where she wears white gloves and eats tiny sandwiches stuffed with pink goo, Gabe and Lily decide that some rules are made to be broken. Finding the key, they sneak into the writing desk and discover a journal written by Patrick when he was young. The journal contains secrets about hidden rooms and tunnels throughout the house where a once-cursed treasure is allegedly buried.
Determined to learn more, Gabe and Lily enlist the help of their new friend, ten-year-old Harper, a self-proclaimed milkshake addict. Faced with riddles to solve, creepy noises that most certainly couldn’t be voices from the past, and a realization that their aunt may also be on the hunt to keep the treasure all to herself, the three children set out to unravel the mysteries of the house, in hopes of being the first to get to the hidden treasure before summer ends.
First 250 Words:
The rules for Aunt Helene’s house were clear: Nothing slimy, loud, or messy, keep all rooms neat, ask before doing anything, and no fighting with your sister.
Keeping the rules wouldn’t be impossible; they would just be annoying. As far as summers went, this one was officially going down in the books as the worst in my eleven-year history, and it hadn’t even started yet.
“Are we here?” my younger sister Lily quietly asked, clutching her doll close to her body with white knuckles as I peered out the window.
Dad had pulled the car over, but there was no sign we were getting out. Lily stared at me with wide eyes, waiting for some kind of confirmation. But how would I know if this was Aunt Helene’s house? I’d never been here before either. In fact, up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t even know we had an Aunt Helene.
“Hey, Lil,” I whispered across the back seat of the car.
“Yeah?”
“I heard Aunt Helene keeps pet rats in her basement.”
“Gabe!” Mom twisted around from the front while Dad looked at us in his rear view mirror with a smirk on his face. “Don’t tell your sister tales like that. You know she scares easily. Lily, honey, he’s just kidding. Aunt Helene is … lovely.”
“But Grandma said—” I started.
“Grandma is the reason you and your sister are going to Aunt Helene’s for the summer. Try to understand. Please?”
VERSUS
Title: The Order of Black Hollow LaneEntry Nickname: The Order of BlackWord Count: 57,000Genre: MG Mystery
Query:
Ginny’s mom is a world-renowned parenting expert with no parenting skills of her own. She doesn’t even give Ginny any warning before shipping her off to a boarding school right before her thirteenth birthday. If only Ginny’s dad was around to look after her, but he disappeared when she was three. She figures she’s heard the last of him.
Then the box arrives. It’s crammed with ornate medallions. There’s no return address, just a note that says, ‘These belonged to your father.’ Ginny thinks it’s just an old heirloom until she sees symbols from the box in an unexpected place: her new boarding school. She starts investigating and finds out her dad was a member of a mysterious student society: The Order of Black Hollow Lane.
At first it seems like nothing more than an old boys’ club, but then Ginny finds evidence that they had something to do with her dad’s disappearance. She’s desperate to learn more about what happened to him, but The Order won’t give up its secrets without a fight. Now Ginny has to decide if finding out what happened to her dad is worth the risk…even if it means risking her life.
First 250 Words:
There are certain things a mother doesn't really need to know. Trivial things, like whether or not you clipped your toe nails this morning, or that you stepped in something sticky at the park. But the box in Ginny's nightstand was not one of those things. Ginny knew it wasn't. And that's why her fingers twitched every time her mother came into her room.
"Are you ready, dear?" her mom asked as she opened the door. "The press will be here in a few—“ She put her hand to her chest and gasped.
Ginny held her breath. She had put the box away, right? If her mom saw it, if she found out....
Suddenly her mother's eyes filled with tears.
"Oh Ginny," she said with a smile, "that dress...you look just...just beautiful."
Ginny breathed out and picked at the crunchy taffeta on the front of her dress. She had to put the box out of her mind. She needed to focus today.
“Don’t you just love these little pink polka dots?” her mom asked as she brushed Ginny’s hands away from the dress. “They’re all hand-sewn, that’s why they pop out so much!”
It looked like the dress had come down with the measles. The sleeves puffed out like pink toadstools, which would come in handy if Ginny ever needed a place to hide a cat.
