Michelle Hauck's Blog, page 70
June 8, 2015
QK Agent Round: Eavesdropping Monkey, PB Humorous
Entry Nickname: Eavesdropping MonkeyTitle: FAMILY REUNIONWord count: 650Genre: Children’s Picture Book - Funny
Query:
The elephants are planning a family reunion. When the monkeys overhear, they decide to have one, too. But they’re not the only ones. The whole family reunion concept is too good to miss out on and it spreads across the jungle like a Savanna grass fire! Soon the watering hole is filled to capacity with animals of different species; which causes a real bungle in the jungle. Tempers flare as each species fights for their right to reunite with their own kind. Finally, a wise frog speaks up with a whole new concept that blows the family reunion idea right out of the watering hole! FAMILY REUNION is an amusing tale of diversity and acceptance. It is approximately 650 words and is written mainly for the 4-8 age range.
First 250 words: On a hot, steamy day in the Jungle of Kree, A sly, nosey monkey swung from a tree. He was eavesdropping on a large elephant herd, And he hung there and listened to every last word.
“We’ll invite all our cousins from near and afar,” Said the matriarch queen named Ali Dalmar.
Query:
The elephants are planning a family reunion. When the monkeys overhear, they decide to have one, too. But they’re not the only ones. The whole family reunion concept is too good to miss out on and it spreads across the jungle like a Savanna grass fire! Soon the watering hole is filled to capacity with animals of different species; which causes a real bungle in the jungle. Tempers flare as each species fights for their right to reunite with their own kind. Finally, a wise frog speaks up with a whole new concept that blows the family reunion idea right out of the watering hole! FAMILY REUNION is an amusing tale of diversity and acceptance. It is approximately 650 words and is written mainly for the 4-8 age range.
First 250 words: On a hot, steamy day in the Jungle of Kree, A sly, nosey monkey swung from a tree. He was eavesdropping on a large elephant herd, And he hung there and listened to every last word.
“We’ll invite all our cousins from near and afar,” Said the matriarch queen named Ali Dalmar.
QK Agent Round: Sand Dollar, PB Humorous, lyrical
Entry nickname: Sand DollarTitle: Sand Dollar ShopperWord count: 200Genre: Picture Book (humorous, lyrical)
Query:
A young boy’s imagination soars as he and his mother collect Sand Dollars at the beach. “Sand Dollar, Sand Dollar, what will I buy?” With his “dollars,” he imagines buying asurfboard-turtle, a singing teacher seal, or a treasure boat to hoist up sunken jewels. When the boy discovers he can trade his Sand Dollars for real dollars at the beachside store, he makes a surprising and heartwarming choice that helps his unexpectedly hatless mom and brings the story full circle. Sand Dollar Shopper is a humorous and lyrical 200-word picture book that would appeal to children ages 2-6.
First 50 words:
(Art: Beach, breezy. Mom presses hat to head)
The wind blows. The waves push to the shore,And pull out again. Seashells sparkle on the sand. I pick them up, one by one.White shells, brown shells, Scallops and snails. My favorite is the Sand Dollar!
Sand Dollar, Sand Dollar, what will I buy?
Query:
A young boy’s imagination soars as he and his mother collect Sand Dollars at the beach. “Sand Dollar, Sand Dollar, what will I buy?” With his “dollars,” he imagines buying asurfboard-turtle, a singing teacher seal, or a treasure boat to hoist up sunken jewels. When the boy discovers he can trade his Sand Dollars for real dollars at the beachside store, he makes a surprising and heartwarming choice that helps his unexpectedly hatless mom and brings the story full circle. Sand Dollar Shopper is a humorous and lyrical 200-word picture book that would appeal to children ages 2-6.
First 50 words:
(Art: Beach, breezy. Mom presses hat to head)
The wind blows. The waves push to the shore,And pull out again. Seashells sparkle on the sand. I pick them up, one by one.White shells, brown shells, Scallops and snails. My favorite is the Sand Dollar!
Sand Dollar, Sand Dollar, what will I buy?
QK Agent Round: Librarians, Curses, and Mysteries, Upper MG Low Fantasy
Entry Nickname: Librarians, Curses, and Mysteries – Oh My!Title: The Curious Curse of the Lonely LibraryWord Count: 56kGenre: Upper Middle Grade Low Fantasy Query:
The Pickettsville library has moldered in silence for two hundred years, but Theodore Plumford can sense that it’s special. Not just any library was founded by a madman.
Determined to spend the summer reading, twelve-year-old Theodore coaxes his reluctant siblings to explore the unusually grand library with him. Though the rest of Pickettsville refuses to darken its doors, the majestic building and its lively librarians soon enthrall the children. But when they discover that characters from the books are haunting the halls, an investigation into the library’s secrets leads them deep into one family’s peculiar history and one man’s troubled life.
As the Plumfords and librarians unravel the past, the library’s future seems brighter. But Theodore’s impetuous brother Hugo would rather have an adventure than follow orders, even if it throws the library into chaos. With the town clamoring to demolish the building, the characters fighting for their freedom, and Hugo playing by his own rules, Theodore’s mettle will be tested. The bookworm who has always lived through others’ stories must learn how to be his own hero if he’s going to save the library.
First 250:
Theodore Plumford’s neck prickled when they drove past the building on their way into town. The rest of Main Street was a collection of shabby stores, but this place stood apart like a wild beast among tabby cats.
Six white columns guarded a wide double door, and cold, silent windows rose between the pillars. On top of the building, rosy light streamed through the panes of a glass dome. It looked like a ball of fire upon a mammoth block of ice.
“Mom, what’s that?”
Mrs. Plumford twisted in her seat to follow Theodore’s pointing finger. She squinted into the sun. “We’ve never been there. You’ll have to ask your aunt.”
Theodore’s younger sister Lucy squirmed around to look at the building before it disappeared from view. “It looks scary,” she whispered.
“It looks boring,” said Hugo Plumford, elbowing Lucy in the center seat to make more room for himself. “Are we there yet?”
“Almost,” said Mr. Plumford. He turned the car into a neighborhood of prim houses in tidy rows, each so alike they might have been pressed from the same mold.
Hugo squashed his nose against the glass and groaned. “Can’t I go with you?”
“No,” said Mr. Plumford. “I’d prefer you weren’t eaten by a crocodile.”
“But I wouldn’t!”
“Hugo, you’d be trying to measure its teeth the minute I turned my back.”
Theodore stifled a sigh and hunkered over his book, determined to ignore the hundredth round of this debate.
The Pickettsville library has moldered in silence for two hundred years, but Theodore Plumford can sense that it’s special. Not just any library was founded by a madman.
Determined to spend the summer reading, twelve-year-old Theodore coaxes his reluctant siblings to explore the unusually grand library with him. Though the rest of Pickettsville refuses to darken its doors, the majestic building and its lively librarians soon enthrall the children. But when they discover that characters from the books are haunting the halls, an investigation into the library’s secrets leads them deep into one family’s peculiar history and one man’s troubled life.
As the Plumfords and librarians unravel the past, the library’s future seems brighter. But Theodore’s impetuous brother Hugo would rather have an adventure than follow orders, even if it throws the library into chaos. With the town clamoring to demolish the building, the characters fighting for their freedom, and Hugo playing by his own rules, Theodore’s mettle will be tested. The bookworm who has always lived through others’ stories must learn how to be his own hero if he’s going to save the library.
First 250:
Theodore Plumford’s neck prickled when they drove past the building on their way into town. The rest of Main Street was a collection of shabby stores, but this place stood apart like a wild beast among tabby cats.
Six white columns guarded a wide double door, and cold, silent windows rose between the pillars. On top of the building, rosy light streamed through the panes of a glass dome. It looked like a ball of fire upon a mammoth block of ice.
“Mom, what’s that?”
Mrs. Plumford twisted in her seat to follow Theodore’s pointing finger. She squinted into the sun. “We’ve never been there. You’ll have to ask your aunt.”
Theodore’s younger sister Lucy squirmed around to look at the building before it disappeared from view. “It looks scary,” she whispered.
“It looks boring,” said Hugo Plumford, elbowing Lucy in the center seat to make more room for himself. “Are we there yet?”
“Almost,” said Mr. Plumford. He turned the car into a neighborhood of prim houses in tidy rows, each so alike they might have been pressed from the same mold.
Hugo squashed his nose against the glass and groaned. “Can’t I go with you?”
“No,” said Mr. Plumford. “I’d prefer you weren’t eaten by a crocodile.”
“But I wouldn’t!”
“Hugo, you’d be trying to measure its teeth the minute I turned my back.”
Theodore stifled a sigh and hunkered over his book, determined to ignore the hundredth round of this debate.
QK Agent Round: Paper Girl in the Land of Yesterday, MG Fantasy
Entry Nickname: Paper Girl in The Land of Yesterday
Title: The Last Paper Dahl
Word count: 63K
Genre: MG Fantasy
Query:
On Monday, eleven-year-old Cecelia Dahl had a little brother who was alive, a mother and father who didn't blame her for his death, and a pleasant house in Hungrig, Norway. She was made of skin and bones and happiness, not crackling paper and sorrow. She had a soul that lived inside her body, not a miserable blue one that ran out through a door in her chest. But then Tuesday swept in with its terrible claws and ripped her life to shreds.
Cecelia’s mother has left for The Land of Yesterday to find her ghost brother. Her house, now a dark and crooked thing called Widdendream, absorbs her father into its walls as punishment for making her mother leave. Just before it eats her as well, two mischievous gnomes whisk her away in their hot-air balloon. The gnomes, soul-catchers by trade, claim they know the way to Yesterday, and also how to capture her runaway soul. They say its absence is why she’s turning into a paper girl, but that finding it won’t be easy. Now Cecelia must survive the harrowing voyage in order to find Yesterday and bring her mother and ghost-brother home. If she doesn’t, Widdendream will never give her father back, and Cecelia’s transformation to a full paper Dahl will be irreversibly complete.
First 250 words:
Cecelia hated Tuesday, and Tuesday hated her back. On Monday of last week, Cecelia Dahl understood the world. She resided in Hungrig Norway, in a crooked house called Widdendream. Daisies that bloomed in both grass and snow circled the shimmering lake outside her window. Sharp mountains loomed over her town. Dogs barked. Cats meowed. Cecelia’s midnight blue hair grew long and fast and cantankerous. Her skin was dark and bronze and oddly freckled, just like her mother’s. Widdendream loved her family, as all good houses should, and her family loved her the same way. Indeed, on Monday of last week, these were all true-to-life facts.
Then on Tuesday, one week ago today, Cecelia did the bad thing. Her little brother died and she took the blame, and now Tuesday had come again. And Cecelia dreaded what it would bring.
“Cecilia?” Miss Podsnappery pushed up her horn-rimmed glasses. “What ever do you call that instrument in your hand?”
Every eye in class turned on Cecelia. Expressionless gazes traced her charcoal sweater and the black-and-gray striped dress beneath it, judging her frayed tights and scuffed boots too, no doubt. Her teacher, bewildered as always, cast looming shadows. Cecelia forced a smile. She must keep her answer as succinct as possible, forgoing any miscommunications. Teachers were simple creatures, after all. And easily confused.
“Miss Podsnappery,” Cecilia answered, speaking with extra care as not to confuse the poor woman, for she did try exceedingly hard to please. “This,” she continued, holding up the device in question, “is what is called a Pen.”
Title: The Last Paper Dahl
Word count: 63K
Genre: MG Fantasy
Query:
On Monday, eleven-year-old Cecelia Dahl had a little brother who was alive, a mother and father who didn't blame her for his death, and a pleasant house in Hungrig, Norway. She was made of skin and bones and happiness, not crackling paper and sorrow. She had a soul that lived inside her body, not a miserable blue one that ran out through a door in her chest. But then Tuesday swept in with its terrible claws and ripped her life to shreds.
Cecelia’s mother has left for The Land of Yesterday to find her ghost brother. Her house, now a dark and crooked thing called Widdendream, absorbs her father into its walls as punishment for making her mother leave. Just before it eats her as well, two mischievous gnomes whisk her away in their hot-air balloon. The gnomes, soul-catchers by trade, claim they know the way to Yesterday, and also how to capture her runaway soul. They say its absence is why she’s turning into a paper girl, but that finding it won’t be easy. Now Cecelia must survive the harrowing voyage in order to find Yesterday and bring her mother and ghost-brother home. If she doesn’t, Widdendream will never give her father back, and Cecelia’s transformation to a full paper Dahl will be irreversibly complete.
First 250 words:
Cecelia hated Tuesday, and Tuesday hated her back. On Monday of last week, Cecelia Dahl understood the world. She resided in Hungrig Norway, in a crooked house called Widdendream. Daisies that bloomed in both grass and snow circled the shimmering lake outside her window. Sharp mountains loomed over her town. Dogs barked. Cats meowed. Cecelia’s midnight blue hair grew long and fast and cantankerous. Her skin was dark and bronze and oddly freckled, just like her mother’s. Widdendream loved her family, as all good houses should, and her family loved her the same way. Indeed, on Monday of last week, these were all true-to-life facts.
Then on Tuesday, one week ago today, Cecelia did the bad thing. Her little brother died and she took the blame, and now Tuesday had come again. And Cecelia dreaded what it would bring.
“Cecilia?” Miss Podsnappery pushed up her horn-rimmed glasses. “What ever do you call that instrument in your hand?”
Every eye in class turned on Cecelia. Expressionless gazes traced her charcoal sweater and the black-and-gray striped dress beneath it, judging her frayed tights and scuffed boots too, no doubt. Her teacher, bewildered as always, cast looming shadows. Cecelia forced a smile. She must keep her answer as succinct as possible, forgoing any miscommunications. Teachers were simple creatures, after all. And easily confused.
“Miss Podsnappery,” Cecilia answered, speaking with extra care as not to confuse the poor woman, for she did try exceedingly hard to please. “This,” she continued, holding up the device in question, “is what is called a Pen.”
QK Agent Round: Elephants Never Forget, YA Contemporary Fantasy
Entry Nickname: Elephants Never Forget
Title: THE IVORY NEEDLE
Word Count: 72K
Genre: YA Contemporary Fantasy
Query
Coming from such different worlds, Chessie Charlton and Daniel Jomo Olanga should never have crossed paths.
Which would have been just fine with Denver teen Chessie. Bad enough Mom’s shipped her off to spend a summer with her ancient grandmother in middle-of-nowhere, Kenya. No phone. No friends. No fair. But when Chessie’s contacted by the spirit of Jhelani, an eons-dead elephant matriarch, things take a total left turn toward weird. Filling Chessie’s head with cryptic songs—and totally flipping her out—Jhelani’s message slowly emerges: save the last of her once-immortal tribe before their species vanishes forever and the Earth pays a deadly price.
Meanwhile, Kenyan teen Daniel can’t feed his family when his crops fail. Desperate for work, he’s coerced into a gang of poachers with their sights set on a huge payday: the remaining elephants of Jhelani’s tribe. Just this one job, he swears. Then he’ll find honest work. Hold his head up again.
By the time Chessie gets over herself and agrees to help Jhelani’s tribe, the poachers are closing in. With elephants charging and bullets flying, Chessie’s taken prisoner and her world and Daniel’s collide. To survive, Chessie must conquer her fears and seize any opportunity (and any rifle) to escape. And Daniel must decide where he’ll draw the line: thief, poacher, or accessory to murder.
The IVORY NEEDLE is told from the alternating viewpoints of the two protagonists.
First 250
When your family falls apart, I suppose you shouldn’t expect anything to be the same again. Not even your mother’s smile.
Mom’s goofy I-love-my-life smile hadn’t been seen in months, and I’d become all too familiar with the distant impostor that had replaced it. But the smile she wore right now? Pretty sure I’d never seen that one before. Like something you’d grab at the mall without stopping to try it on, it was too tight and way too bright.
I winced and eyed the kitchen table, covered in our favorite foods. Mom’s cooking and smiling? My mouth watered, my stomach rumbled, and my heart clenched. Something wasn’t right.
“Roast chicken? Dibs on the drumstick,” Bent shouted, slamming his scrawny ten-year-old frame into the chair nearest the chicken. He leaned in, freckled nose practically up the bird’s butt, and took a deep melodramatic sniff. “Look, Chessie, your favorite mac-n-cheese, too.”
“Are you sure this isn’t a mirage?” I teased. I dropped into the chair across from him and watched Mom pull something else from the oven, her hair frizzed out in all directions from cooking in the early summer heat. “Mom? What’s going on?”
She set a tray of steaming cornbread on the table and sat down. “How would you kids like to meet your great-grandmother Esther?”
Bent whooped. “Does she still live in Africa? I want to meet her!”
I paused, forkful of mac-n-cheese halfway to my mouth. My stomach felt hollow.
Title: THE IVORY NEEDLE
Word Count: 72K
Genre: YA Contemporary Fantasy
Query
Coming from such different worlds, Chessie Charlton and Daniel Jomo Olanga should never have crossed paths.
Which would have been just fine with Denver teen Chessie. Bad enough Mom’s shipped her off to spend a summer with her ancient grandmother in middle-of-nowhere, Kenya. No phone. No friends. No fair. But when Chessie’s contacted by the spirit of Jhelani, an eons-dead elephant matriarch, things take a total left turn toward weird. Filling Chessie’s head with cryptic songs—and totally flipping her out—Jhelani’s message slowly emerges: save the last of her once-immortal tribe before their species vanishes forever and the Earth pays a deadly price.
Meanwhile, Kenyan teen Daniel can’t feed his family when his crops fail. Desperate for work, he’s coerced into a gang of poachers with their sights set on a huge payday: the remaining elephants of Jhelani’s tribe. Just this one job, he swears. Then he’ll find honest work. Hold his head up again.
By the time Chessie gets over herself and agrees to help Jhelani’s tribe, the poachers are closing in. With elephants charging and bullets flying, Chessie’s taken prisoner and her world and Daniel’s collide. To survive, Chessie must conquer her fears and seize any opportunity (and any rifle) to escape. And Daniel must decide where he’ll draw the line: thief, poacher, or accessory to murder.
The IVORY NEEDLE is told from the alternating viewpoints of the two protagonists.
First 250
When your family falls apart, I suppose you shouldn’t expect anything to be the same again. Not even your mother’s smile.
Mom’s goofy I-love-my-life smile hadn’t been seen in months, and I’d become all too familiar with the distant impostor that had replaced it. But the smile she wore right now? Pretty sure I’d never seen that one before. Like something you’d grab at the mall without stopping to try it on, it was too tight and way too bright.
I winced and eyed the kitchen table, covered in our favorite foods. Mom’s cooking and smiling? My mouth watered, my stomach rumbled, and my heart clenched. Something wasn’t right.
“Roast chicken? Dibs on the drumstick,” Bent shouted, slamming his scrawny ten-year-old frame into the chair nearest the chicken. He leaned in, freckled nose practically up the bird’s butt, and took a deep melodramatic sniff. “Look, Chessie, your favorite mac-n-cheese, too.”
“Are you sure this isn’t a mirage?” I teased. I dropped into the chair across from him and watched Mom pull something else from the oven, her hair frizzed out in all directions from cooking in the early summer heat. “Mom? What’s going on?”
She set a tray of steaming cornbread on the table and sat down. “How would you kids like to meet your great-grandmother Esther?”
Bent whooped. “Does she still live in Africa? I want to meet her!”
I paused, forkful of mac-n-cheese halfway to my mouth. My stomach felt hollow.
QK Agent Round: Guinness, YA Supernatural Fantasy
Entry Nickname: GuinnessTitle: Blacktop OracleWord count: 65,000Genre: YA Supernatural Fantasy
Query:
Seventeen-year-old Cooper “Coop” Lambert excels at mischief. After a run in with Johnny Law, the D.A. offers diversion. He’s assigned to Mac, a 92-year-old crotchety piece of work, but the old guy has a way with cars and owns a bad ass 1969 GTO called Sybil. They’ve nearly finished restoring it when Coop arrives at the garage only to find Mac dead. Days after burying his elderly friend things only grow more confusing for Coop when he discovers Mac left the GTO to him.
Coop’s parents overcome their reservations until he’s ticketed three times in one week for reckless driving. Only Coop knows he isn’t the problem; it’s the car. Mac failed to mention that Sybil goes all funhouse mirror while doing 80 on the interstate. The windows wash out and instead of the landscape he sees visions of people in trouble. If that isn’t enough to get him committed, the prophecies start coming true, and the cops eyeball Coop for knowing more than he should. He doesn’t have to tell anyone, he can keep it to himself. But when he witnesses a murder, he has a choice to make. If he keeps his mouth shut, someone he knows dies. If he talks, it’s a one-way ticket up crap creek, where his parents have a rubber room on reserve.
First 250:
Dust swirled around Coop’s head like pollution, clinging to his hair, skin, and eyelashes. Grit lined his nose and tickled his throat, but Mac kept reminding him that restoration was an art form, a way to bond with the vehicle.
The sander cut off and he ran his gloved hand across the fender. A grunt got his attention, and he turned to Mac, sitting with his cast up on a case of WD-40.
Coop pulled the dust mask from his face. “What?”
“Don’t go on many dates, do you?”
Mac was famous for causing whiplash with his topic changes, but Coop had learned to go with it. “Huh?”
“A car is like a woman.” Mac shifted in his chair to ease the pressure on his leg.
Coop mopped away the sweat on his forehead with one arm. What the hell did that have to do with anything? Mac’s wrinkled gaze homed in on his, and he realized the old guy wanted a response. “Yeah, how so?”
“A woman must be handled gently.” Mac ran his calloused hand lightly, almost lovingly, across the fender. “Stroked in a way that soothes rather than offends. A car is the same way.” Mac was full of…little bits of wisdom.
Coop eyed the sanded spot, his mind struggling to follow.
“Take that blasted glove off.” Mac’s gravelly voice landed on Coop’s last nerve, but he ripped the glove off.
“Run your hand across that spot you’re sanding, from right to left.”
Query:
Seventeen-year-old Cooper “Coop” Lambert excels at mischief. After a run in with Johnny Law, the D.A. offers diversion. He’s assigned to Mac, a 92-year-old crotchety piece of work, but the old guy has a way with cars and owns a bad ass 1969 GTO called Sybil. They’ve nearly finished restoring it when Coop arrives at the garage only to find Mac dead. Days after burying his elderly friend things only grow more confusing for Coop when he discovers Mac left the GTO to him.
Coop’s parents overcome their reservations until he’s ticketed three times in one week for reckless driving. Only Coop knows he isn’t the problem; it’s the car. Mac failed to mention that Sybil goes all funhouse mirror while doing 80 on the interstate. The windows wash out and instead of the landscape he sees visions of people in trouble. If that isn’t enough to get him committed, the prophecies start coming true, and the cops eyeball Coop for knowing more than he should. He doesn’t have to tell anyone, he can keep it to himself. But when he witnesses a murder, he has a choice to make. If he keeps his mouth shut, someone he knows dies. If he talks, it’s a one-way ticket up crap creek, where his parents have a rubber room on reserve.
First 250:
Dust swirled around Coop’s head like pollution, clinging to his hair, skin, and eyelashes. Grit lined his nose and tickled his throat, but Mac kept reminding him that restoration was an art form, a way to bond with the vehicle.
The sander cut off and he ran his gloved hand across the fender. A grunt got his attention, and he turned to Mac, sitting with his cast up on a case of WD-40.
Coop pulled the dust mask from his face. “What?”
“Don’t go on many dates, do you?”
Mac was famous for causing whiplash with his topic changes, but Coop had learned to go with it. “Huh?”
“A car is like a woman.” Mac shifted in his chair to ease the pressure on his leg.
Coop mopped away the sweat on his forehead with one arm. What the hell did that have to do with anything? Mac’s wrinkled gaze homed in on his, and he realized the old guy wanted a response. “Yeah, how so?”
“A woman must be handled gently.” Mac ran his calloused hand lightly, almost lovingly, across the fender. “Stroked in a way that soothes rather than offends. A car is the same way.” Mac was full of…little bits of wisdom.
Coop eyed the sanded spot, his mind struggling to follow.
“Take that blasted glove off.” Mac’s gravelly voice landed on Coop’s last nerve, but he ripped the glove off.
“Run your hand across that spot you’re sanding, from right to left.”
QK Agent Round: Life Sucks--I'm Stuck in Podunk, YA Contemporary
Entry Nickname: Life Sucks—I’m Stuck in PodunkTitle: Middle of KnowhereWord count: 70KGenre: YA Contemporary
Query:
When Hailey Nelson’s father decides to up and relocate their family from vibrant Chicago city life to the middle of God only knows where, seventeen-year-old Hailey thinks her life is over. She plans to hate this small, rural three-stoplight town. After all, what could she possibly have in common with truck-driving, tobacco-chewing rednecks? But what she doesn’t anticipate is falling in love with a Pepto-Bismol colored antiques store and the quirky woman who runs it. A woman who shows her more love and affection than Hailey's always absent, TV journalist mother.
Misery does love company, and when Hailey finds out her parents are getting divorced, anti-social Ryker Evans—a local teen outcast and bearer of hideous posture—is surprisingly supportive and understanding. Probably because his family is even more messed up than hers. When Hailey gets a glimpse of what Ryker could look like with a little TLC, Project Ryker is on. Only she doesn’t expect Ryker to be hot with a capital “H.” Or sweet and fun, writing her songs and taking her dumpster diving for donuts. Now she has more to worry about than her parents’ divorce and her mother’s abandonment. She has her own stupid feelings for Ryker to work through too.
Falling for Ryker could present a whole new set of problems. Because Ryker has scars that run too deep, scars that not even Hailey can heal. And if she tries to save him from his past, she could lose him forever.First 250:
This is what hell looks like.
I stare out the window of Dad’s Ford Explorer. Along the curvy road, dilapidated double-wide trailers that look like they belong in some independent film version of a horror flick, litter the sparse lawns. An old couch, unused tires, and even a rust-stained toilet lay strewn next to one particularly neglected trailer.
“Please tell me no one lives there,” I mutter.
Dad glances in my direction, his mouth set in a firm, disapproving line. “Now, Hailey, try to remember that these people aren’t as fortunate as you and I have been.” His eyes grind into me, like a pestle trying to turn me into bits of shame. “They do the best they can.”
I sigh and turn back to the window as another trailer comes into view, this one even more unkempt. Amazingly enough, one of the occupants is sitting on the sagging porch steps blowing a cloud of smoke into the humid summer air. The man is grease personified. Like if someone wrung him out, they’d have an entire vat of frying oil. I wrinkle my nose and look down when I make eye contact with him. Suddenly, my nails are desperate for attention.
“How long until Mom joins us?” I ask, digging at one particularly bothersome cuticle.
Mom’s been gone for weeks now. As a broadcast journalist, she jet sets around the world while Dad acts as homemaker extraordinaire. Not that I’m knocking my dad’s skills. He can make a mean BLT sandwich.
Query:
When Hailey Nelson’s father decides to up and relocate their family from vibrant Chicago city life to the middle of God only knows where, seventeen-year-old Hailey thinks her life is over. She plans to hate this small, rural three-stoplight town. After all, what could she possibly have in common with truck-driving, tobacco-chewing rednecks? But what she doesn’t anticipate is falling in love with a Pepto-Bismol colored antiques store and the quirky woman who runs it. A woman who shows her more love and affection than Hailey's always absent, TV journalist mother.
Misery does love company, and when Hailey finds out her parents are getting divorced, anti-social Ryker Evans—a local teen outcast and bearer of hideous posture—is surprisingly supportive and understanding. Probably because his family is even more messed up than hers. When Hailey gets a glimpse of what Ryker could look like with a little TLC, Project Ryker is on. Only she doesn’t expect Ryker to be hot with a capital “H.” Or sweet and fun, writing her songs and taking her dumpster diving for donuts. Now she has more to worry about than her parents’ divorce and her mother’s abandonment. She has her own stupid feelings for Ryker to work through too.
Falling for Ryker could present a whole new set of problems. Because Ryker has scars that run too deep, scars that not even Hailey can heal. And if she tries to save him from his past, she could lose him forever.First 250:
This is what hell looks like.
I stare out the window of Dad’s Ford Explorer. Along the curvy road, dilapidated double-wide trailers that look like they belong in some independent film version of a horror flick, litter the sparse lawns. An old couch, unused tires, and even a rust-stained toilet lay strewn next to one particularly neglected trailer.
“Please tell me no one lives there,” I mutter.
Dad glances in my direction, his mouth set in a firm, disapproving line. “Now, Hailey, try to remember that these people aren’t as fortunate as you and I have been.” His eyes grind into me, like a pestle trying to turn me into bits of shame. “They do the best they can.”
I sigh and turn back to the window as another trailer comes into view, this one even more unkempt. Amazingly enough, one of the occupants is sitting on the sagging porch steps blowing a cloud of smoke into the humid summer air. The man is grease personified. Like if someone wrung him out, they’d have an entire vat of frying oil. I wrinkle my nose and look down when I make eye contact with him. Suddenly, my nails are desperate for attention.
“How long until Mom joins us?” I ask, digging at one particularly bothersome cuticle.
Mom’s been gone for weeks now. As a broadcast journalist, she jet sets around the world while Dad acts as homemaker extraordinaire. Not that I’m knocking my dad’s skills. He can make a mean BLT sandwich.
QK Agent Round: Queen of Drones, YA Sci-fi Postapocalyptic
Entry Nickname: Queen of Drones Title: The Chimera’s SnareWord count: 85KGenre: YA Sci-fi Postapocalyptic
Query:
After a failed scientific experiment, twenty-four settlements scattered in the ruins of North America are all that remain of human civilization. Sixteen-year-old June lives confined to an underground bunker at Alpha settlement. Her only link to the outside world is the streaming feed on her holographic monitor; her only companion is her stoic, infuriatingly secretive guard Kyle.
When flesh-eating, genetically engineered chimaeras destroy Alpha, June’s isolation is shattered. She and Kyle trek through a mutant-infested bayou to the next viable settlement, Omega, where they encounter three other Alpha survivors. But, each person remembers the attack differently and June races to piece together the truth behind their conflicting memories before the survivors turn on each other. Alpha’s damaged records could hold the key to reconciling their stories and finding a way to fight the chimaeras, but with four other settlements destroyed, June and Kyle have to act quickly, before the monsters strike again.
The two return to Alpha’s subterranean passages to search for remnants of lost data, instead they unravel a past that ties them directly to the horror of chimaeras. June discovers she is a clone, engineered to turn the world into a beehive of zombie-like drones, and Kyle is an assassin sent to stop her. An assassin, whose wiped memories are beginning to resurface. If June isn’t strong enough to override the monstrous program in her DNA, she must persuade Kyle to follow his orders and kill her.
To make matters worse, another clone would stop at nothing to rule the human beehive.
First 250 words:
June felt the vibration in her bones seconds before the emergency siren shrilled to life. The wave of sound passed through the thick layer of earth, slamming against the bunker’s titanium bearings. The walls and the ceiling shuddered and the silver chess figurines on the table knocked against each other, her careful strategy scrambled into chaos.
In a space of a heartbeat she was up, her ear pressed to the concrete, straining to catch familiar sounds beyond the blaring wail.The main generator was silent.
We can’t stop the apocalypse, but we can survive it. June scowled at the enclave’s oh-so-optimistic motto flickering on the holographicmonitor over her bed. Grasping at straws wasn't surviving.
She climbed on the mattress, licked her fingers and reached towards the air conditioning ducts. Nothing, other than a faint scent of mildew. And apples. In the settlement apples were a luxury. Wondering which chemical compound could've produced the odor, she didn’t notice when the siren cut out.
For several long moments the walls preserved its echo, fainter with each iteration. But the air conditioner, the generator, and the intercom system didn’t come back online.
“Kyle?” June never liked the sound of her voice. It pitched childishly high and the discord between her chronological age and her frail, angular body made her acutely self-conscious.
“Kyle, where are you?”
Not in the bunker. Otherwise, he would’ve already responded.
She jumped off the bed and rubbed her bare foot against her calf. The floor was rapidly cooling and this too was wrong.
“Kyle!”
Query:
After a failed scientific experiment, twenty-four settlements scattered in the ruins of North America are all that remain of human civilization. Sixteen-year-old June lives confined to an underground bunker at Alpha settlement. Her only link to the outside world is the streaming feed on her holographic monitor; her only companion is her stoic, infuriatingly secretive guard Kyle.
When flesh-eating, genetically engineered chimaeras destroy Alpha, June’s isolation is shattered. She and Kyle trek through a mutant-infested bayou to the next viable settlement, Omega, where they encounter three other Alpha survivors. But, each person remembers the attack differently and June races to piece together the truth behind their conflicting memories before the survivors turn on each other. Alpha’s damaged records could hold the key to reconciling their stories and finding a way to fight the chimaeras, but with four other settlements destroyed, June and Kyle have to act quickly, before the monsters strike again.
The two return to Alpha’s subterranean passages to search for remnants of lost data, instead they unravel a past that ties them directly to the horror of chimaeras. June discovers she is a clone, engineered to turn the world into a beehive of zombie-like drones, and Kyle is an assassin sent to stop her. An assassin, whose wiped memories are beginning to resurface. If June isn’t strong enough to override the monstrous program in her DNA, she must persuade Kyle to follow his orders and kill her.
To make matters worse, another clone would stop at nothing to rule the human beehive.
First 250 words:
June felt the vibration in her bones seconds before the emergency siren shrilled to life. The wave of sound passed through the thick layer of earth, slamming against the bunker’s titanium bearings. The walls and the ceiling shuddered and the silver chess figurines on the table knocked against each other, her careful strategy scrambled into chaos.
In a space of a heartbeat she was up, her ear pressed to the concrete, straining to catch familiar sounds beyond the blaring wail.The main generator was silent.
We can’t stop the apocalypse, but we can survive it. June scowled at the enclave’s oh-so-optimistic motto flickering on the holographicmonitor over her bed. Grasping at straws wasn't surviving.
She climbed on the mattress, licked her fingers and reached towards the air conditioning ducts. Nothing, other than a faint scent of mildew. And apples. In the settlement apples were a luxury. Wondering which chemical compound could've produced the odor, she didn’t notice when the siren cut out.
For several long moments the walls preserved its echo, fainter with each iteration. But the air conditioner, the generator, and the intercom system didn’t come back online.
“Kyle?” June never liked the sound of her voice. It pitched childishly high and the discord between her chronological age and her frail, angular body made her acutely self-conscious.
“Kyle, where are you?”
Not in the bunker. Otherwise, he would’ve already responded.
She jumped off the bed and rubbed her bare foot against her calf. The floor was rapidly cooling and this too was wrong.
“Kyle!”
QK Agent Round: My Monster Twin is Rotting, YA Gothic Horror
Entry Nickname: My Monster Twin is Rotting
Title: A Savage Miscreation
Word count: 86,000
Genre: YA Gothic Horror
Query:
When Talmage True was born, people said it was a mercy that his mother died for the child’s razor-sharp teeth would have torn her apart. He was born with a full set.
Now fifteen, Talmage hides his misshapen face from those who condemn him for being unnatural. But a chance meeting with his estranged uncle, a curiosity peddler hawking the medically grotesque, brings Talmage a spark of hope. For the first time, Talmage feels a kinship with the bizarre creatures on display--the eight-legged taxidermied kitten and the dog whose body ends in a shell. After all, Talmage, too, is an aberration.
Talmage is drawn into his uncle’s dark world and together they create a clockwork figure in his exact likeness--a mechanical boy made of metal, covered in the flesh of stolen corpses. Late one night, the figure comes to life and Talmage--who has never had a friend before--welcomes it as a brother. But the world is no place for a clockwork boy especially when its body starts to rust and rot. Desperate to stay alive, it turns to murder to harvest fresh body parts. When it sets its sights on Alice, a girl scarred by fire who sees beyond Talmage’s monstrous appearance, Talmage must decide: dismantle his clockwork brother or watch it kill the only person who has ever shown him kindness.
First 250 words:
I always supposed it would be difficult to kill someone you love. More than difficult. It would be impossible, a gut-wrenching, mind-numbing horror that, if achieved, would haunt your soul forever.
It has haunted me every single waking moment of my wretched life.
You see, I did.
But if I had the opportunity, I would do it again. I would tear his body limb from limb, extracting bone from delicate socket and shattering them into a thousand pieces. From those shards, I would grind what was left of him into powder and then bury it miles apart so that there would be no chance his body could ever come together again.
If only I had.
His chest weighed against the curve of my back, his breath rasping into my ear. Gripping one arm, I dragged him down the rickety stairs, his bare feet knocking against the planks. Outside, amorphous shadows clawed at the edges of the cobblestone street--only the moon would be witness to my heinous act tonight--and so, without looking back, we slipped into the trees.
He was not awake and yet his lips began to murmur. I must move quickly but how to do it? How to kill? A swift stone to the temple? His skull was too thick. Saw his head off his shoulders? The spinal column too wiry. A blade, then, through the center of his heart?
“But he has no heart,” I whispered into the night.
A fire then, the thought suddenly dawned. Yes, a fire would do.
Title: A Savage Miscreation
Word count: 86,000
Genre: YA Gothic Horror
Query:
When Talmage True was born, people said it was a mercy that his mother died for the child’s razor-sharp teeth would have torn her apart. He was born with a full set.
Now fifteen, Talmage hides his misshapen face from those who condemn him for being unnatural. But a chance meeting with his estranged uncle, a curiosity peddler hawking the medically grotesque, brings Talmage a spark of hope. For the first time, Talmage feels a kinship with the bizarre creatures on display--the eight-legged taxidermied kitten and the dog whose body ends in a shell. After all, Talmage, too, is an aberration.
Talmage is drawn into his uncle’s dark world and together they create a clockwork figure in his exact likeness--a mechanical boy made of metal, covered in the flesh of stolen corpses. Late one night, the figure comes to life and Talmage--who has never had a friend before--welcomes it as a brother. But the world is no place for a clockwork boy especially when its body starts to rust and rot. Desperate to stay alive, it turns to murder to harvest fresh body parts. When it sets its sights on Alice, a girl scarred by fire who sees beyond Talmage’s monstrous appearance, Talmage must decide: dismantle his clockwork brother or watch it kill the only person who has ever shown him kindness.
First 250 words:
I always supposed it would be difficult to kill someone you love. More than difficult. It would be impossible, a gut-wrenching, mind-numbing horror that, if achieved, would haunt your soul forever.
It has haunted me every single waking moment of my wretched life.
You see, I did.
But if I had the opportunity, I would do it again. I would tear his body limb from limb, extracting bone from delicate socket and shattering them into a thousand pieces. From those shards, I would grind what was left of him into powder and then bury it miles apart so that there would be no chance his body could ever come together again.
If only I had.
His chest weighed against the curve of my back, his breath rasping into my ear. Gripping one arm, I dragged him down the rickety stairs, his bare feet knocking against the planks. Outside, amorphous shadows clawed at the edges of the cobblestone street--only the moon would be witness to my heinous act tonight--and so, without looking back, we slipped into the trees.
He was not awake and yet his lips began to murmur. I must move quickly but how to do it? How to kill? A swift stone to the temple? His skull was too thick. Saw his head off his shoulders? The spinal column too wiry. A blade, then, through the center of his heart?
“But he has no heart,” I whispered into the night.
A fire then, the thought suddenly dawned. Yes, a fire would do.
June 5, 2015
Query Kombat '15 Winners 1st Round
Well, Round 1 of this crazy contests officially ended last night. We promised blood and blood there was. Please have your revised entries to us by Saturday, June 6th at 5 pm EST. Use the same format and send to the contest email: QueryKombat (at) gmail (dot) com.
A full 32 entries out of the 64 lost in a valiant fight - you should have seen us hosts and the judges freak out over Twitter and in the comments of the entries about how hard it was to choose.
For those 32: good job. You gave the judges a hell of a job. Hopefully you got some amazing feedback as well!
For the 32 winners, CONGRATS!!!!!! YOU GET TO GO ON TO THE AGENT ROUND WHICH OPENS THIS Monday!!!
Below is the list of those who will go on to the next round. Let me know if we made any mistakes! Team Michelle is in orange.
Orphan RedZipIf You Give a Girl a RedoGreek Gods are the Best Kind of TroubleA Thousand Miles AstrayForget You StalinEvesdropping MonkeyGuilt By AssociationParanormal FearSand DollarThe Impressionistic CowSkins of the FatherMy Monster Twin is RottingBrain GourmetBest(iary) WesternQueen of DronesBroadway BabyFed to the CrocodilesLife Sucks--I'm Stuck in PodunkTeenagers Make Poor James BondA Girl and her Serial KillerPaper Girl in the Land of YesterdayMusical Mirror MayhemMiddle Grade LeverageLibrarians, Curses, and MysteriesGrandma GuardiansStellar Twins Kickin it Cosmic StyleGuinnessMy Life as a Teenage Pirate QueenFake Heirs Do It BetterElephants Never ForgetTwin for the Win
CONGRATS!!! Of course, we still have....
The Host Saves
These are three entries that we three hosts will pick from our teams to move on to the agent round but not on to Round 2. Check out SC's and Mike's picks as well. The Host Saves can submit a revised entry and will go to the agent round, but not to the second combat round.
It was a really hard decision to narrow my host save down to one choice. I'm sure the burning in the pit of my stomach last night was the result, because this choice is crushing. I love all my picks and would take you all if it was possible.
I went over which were likely to get requests, which could easiest revise, which got a lot of votes in their round, which probably will do fine on their own, and what agents are looking for. I considered voice and concept. I spent hours thinking about his decision and it didn't get any easier.
With great humility and apologies to the rest, my host save is:
No Such Thing as Coincidence
Congrats everyone!!!!!!!!!! Can't wait to see you all at the agent round!
