Click here to read the original query. (Originally posted as Vanishing Iron)
Click here to read the revised query.
Click here to read the first three pages (original submission).
Click here to read the revised sample pages.
Dear Ms. Agent,
The why I picked you paragraph.
It was to be a party like no other, but Felicity soon learns that not everyone at DragonCon is in costume. Some of those fangs are real and are quite thirsty.
Felicity Johnson is a sales assistant at a brokerage firm in Atlanta. It’s not rocket science, but it pays the bills. For a nice break from the norm, she and her friends decide to attend DragonCon, the convention that celebrates everything science fiction and fantasy; this year they even dress up. The day starts with adventure, laughter, and amazement at all there is to see and do at DragonCon, but the night ends in disaster. Felicity stumbles into a crime scene, and at the center is one friend’s mangled body, which looks as if rabid bears attacked him. And to top it off, the friend that was with him, he’s vanished.
Unsure if she should be grieving one or two, Felicity turns to Blake Richmond and his team. Blake, and his much too lovely chest, try to heal her broken heart and to help her find her missing best friend, but in the process, he is forced to reveal to her the existence of vampires, a secret that he was sworn to protect, and a little tidbit that she could gladly live without. Ultimately, the search puts Felicity in danger of both death and falling in love, neither of which she has time for at the moment.
IRON THIRST is an urban fantasy with a chick lit feel. It is complete at 80,000 words and is the first in an open-ended series.
My day job is as a sales assistant at a brokerage firm. To add a little flavor to the protagonist, I used my experience to highlight the humorous in’s and out’s that exist from everyday cubicle life, something I think that many people can relate to. I am a member of the Atlanta Writers Club and Sisters in Crime.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Me
Oct 29, 2009
Oct 28, 2009
Read This Before Submitting
I am copying this from a post on Janet Reid's blog. Click here to read the original post. I recommend all submitters to read this and revise your query based upon these suggestions before posting here for additional critiques. This is very sound advice:
Here is the outline [Ms. Reid uses] to teach the class [on Effective Query Letters]:
1. A query letter is a business letter
2. A query letter requires "show don't tell" just exactly like your novel does
3. A query letter MUST tell an agent what the book is about.
3a. Who is the main character?
3b. What happens to her?
3c. What choice does s/he face?
3d. What terrible thing will happen because of that choice?
4. A query letter should include the word count, the title and any publishing credits you have? Don't have pub credits? Don't worry. Don't reach either.
(the novel has to be finished. You don't have to say it is, but just know it)
5. A query letter must avoid several instant-rejection phrases:
fiction novel
sure best seller
Oprah
film potential
"dear agent"/"dear sir or madam"
6. Things to avoid in query letters:
Don't beg.
Don't flatter.
Don't demean yourself.
Don't quote rejection letters
Don't quote critique groups, friends, paid editors or conference contacts.
Don't ask rhetorical questions.
Here is the outline [Ms. Reid uses] to teach the class [on Effective Query Letters]:
1. A query letter is a business letter
2. A query letter requires "show don't tell" just exactly like your novel does
3. A query letter MUST tell an agent what the book is about.
3a. Who is the main character?
3b. What happens to her?
3c. What choice does s/he face?
3d. What terrible thing will happen because of that choice?
4. A query letter should include the word count, the title and any publishing credits you have? Don't have pub credits? Don't worry. Don't reach either.
(the novel has to be finished. You don't have to say it is, but just know it)
5. A query letter must avoid several instant-rejection phrases:
fiction novel
sure best seller
Oprah
film potential
"dear agent"/"dear sir or madam"
6. Things to avoid in query letters:
Don't beg.
Don't flatter.
Don't demean yourself.
Don't quote rejection letters
Don't quote critique groups, friends, paid editors or conference contacts.
Don't ask rhetorical questions.
Oct 27, 2009
Query Revision #2 - NO DARKER FATE
Click here to read the original query.
Click here to read the first revision.
After a home intruder murdered his family, Lucas Fowler became obsessed with death. Germs, slippery steps, strangers, there are a million ways to die and he's determined to avoid them all. Even if it means boarding himself off from life.
When the image of a stranger arrives on his cell phone, Lucas thinks it's harmless, misdirected. But that night he feels changed. Suddenly fearless, able to outrun cars, punch holes in concrete, and shift into a blighted alternate reality, Lucas transforms into the thing he fears most--a killer. He tracks down and stabs to death the man in the picture.
Another picture comes, another murder. Lucas can't control his new abilities or stop the killings. Each time he learns a little more about what's happening to him. But to discover it all—the secret society of Scions, the rogue Scion controlling him, the super-powered undead he's creating with each murder, and the remedy to his own cowardice—he'll have to keep on killing. And he'll need to be fearless all on his own.
NO DARKER FATE, an urban fantasy, is 95,000 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Click here to read the first revision.
After a home intruder murdered his family, Lucas Fowler became obsessed with death. Germs, slippery steps, strangers, there are a million ways to die and he's determined to avoid them all. Even if it means boarding himself off from life.
When the image of a stranger arrives on his cell phone, Lucas thinks it's harmless, misdirected. But that night he feels changed. Suddenly fearless, able to outrun cars, punch holes in concrete, and shift into a blighted alternate reality, Lucas transforms into the thing he fears most--a killer. He tracks down and stabs to death the man in the picture.
Another picture comes, another murder. Lucas can't control his new abilities or stop the killings. Each time he learns a little more about what's happening to him. But to discover it all—the secret society of Scions, the rogue Scion controlling him, the super-powered undead he's creating with each murder, and the remedy to his own cowardice—he'll have to keep on killing. And he'll need to be fearless all on his own.
NO DARKER FATE, an urban fantasy, is 95,000 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Re - Query for Mourn Their Courage
Dear Agent,
When Liu Jie vows to serve his Emperor, he embarks on an epic journey where ghosts are guides and heroes are traitors. Jie endures the brutality and anguish of war before facing his greatest fear: must he sacrifice his family to save his empire?
"MOURN THEIR COURAGE" is a 104,000 word fantasy novel based on the Chinese folktales collectively called "The Romance of the Three Kingdoms." Though adapted for film, television and video games that have enjoyed world-wide popularity, there are not yet any modern novelizations of this treasure. I write with the same appreciation for character emotional development as Guy Gavriel Kay and believe his fans will enjoy my work.
I am a member of the Wuxia Society and The China History Forum Online, where I contribute book reviews. I have studied Tai Chi and Mandarin, traveled to China twice, and corresponded with Rafe DeCrespigny, one of the leading authorities on the Three Kingdoms period. I have published book reviews on my blog and fiction in online markets and can furnish those references upon request.
I understand you are interested in historical fiction and fantasy and I want to introduce you to my vision of China.
I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you for your time.
- Author
Chapter One
In the Ron Empire, wars did not erupt over cups of rice wine. Since the Peach Orchard Inn's modest, tamped-earth structure promised rest from months of travel and skirmishes with bandits, Liu Jie signaled his men to stop for the night.
Despite a guard’s protest, Jie dismounted and opened the inn’s courtyard gate himself. The cold, flaky metal felt good and solid after hours of leather and horsehair under his fingers. His wife and son’s litter entered the courtyard where Jie freed them from the stuffy sedan chair. Mei and Shan took a deep breath as a breeze blew the smell of earth and peaches through the courtyard. Together, they entered the inn.
To his right, five men gathered around an unrolled silk scroll mounted on the wall. The ivory fabric's weave was intricate, and the Imperial Chop blazed like a crimson brand in a corner. He read it in a glance.
The Son of Heaven requires the aid of all men as sons might come to their father. Rebels assault the people and threaten the capital. All districts report.
Beside him, his wife blanched. “No,” she whispered.
Jie read it again and clenched his hands. "You were right, Mei. War was inevitable."
"I'd hoped-"
Jie nodded and took her hand in his for a quiet moment. When servants brought in the family’s luggage, Mei and her servant followed them past garish red pillars and up the stairs. He knew Mei wanted to avoid the noise of the tearoom and the implications of the notice.
Their son, Shan ran outside to play in the last rays of sunlight. Jie bought a cup of rice wine and sat at an empty table. He contemplated how to respond to the summons. Servants lit paper lanterns and the tearoom filled with more men who crowded the notice.
A group of boisterous young men sat at a nearby table and a game of sixes commenced with a clatter of dice.
The voices and noise blended into a monotonous drone. When the innkeeper brought him a plate of dumplings and a set of chopsticks, he barely tasted the food. Instead, he used the chopsticks and wrote plan after plan in the congealing sauce. He abandoned every scheme as impractical.
He did not have enough money to fund a campaign against the rebels. He had to continue to the capital and sign up. Jie longed to respond now, before Imperial troops slaughtered the Turbans.
The inn door slammed open and Shan rushed inside.
Bemused, Jie smiled as his son looked around the room as if all the demons of hell chased him. *After all, he is eight.*
Then Shan's wide-eyed expression found him, and Jie knew something was wrong.
"Papa, come outside, quick!"
"It's dark outside, Shan. There’s nothing to see."
"There’s a body!" Shan said. "A dead boy is in the garden."
When Liu Jie vows to serve his Emperor, he embarks on an epic journey where ghosts are guides and heroes are traitors. Jie endures the brutality and anguish of war before facing his greatest fear: must he sacrifice his family to save his empire?
"MOURN THEIR COURAGE" is a 104,000 word fantasy novel based on the Chinese folktales collectively called "The Romance of the Three Kingdoms." Though adapted for film, television and video games that have enjoyed world-wide popularity, there are not yet any modern novelizations of this treasure. I write with the same appreciation for character emotional development as Guy Gavriel Kay and believe his fans will enjoy my work.
I am a member of the Wuxia Society and The China History Forum Online, where I contribute book reviews. I have studied Tai Chi and Mandarin, traveled to China twice, and corresponded with Rafe DeCrespigny, one of the leading authorities on the Three Kingdoms period. I have published book reviews on my blog and fiction in online markets and can furnish those references upon request.
I understand you are interested in historical fiction and fantasy and I want to introduce you to my vision of China.
I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you for your time.
- Author
Chapter One
In the Ron Empire, wars did not erupt over cups of rice wine. Since the Peach Orchard Inn's modest, tamped-earth structure promised rest from months of travel and skirmishes with bandits, Liu Jie signaled his men to stop for the night.
Despite a guard’s protest, Jie dismounted and opened the inn’s courtyard gate himself. The cold, flaky metal felt good and solid after hours of leather and horsehair under his fingers. His wife and son’s litter entered the courtyard where Jie freed them from the stuffy sedan chair. Mei and Shan took a deep breath as a breeze blew the smell of earth and peaches through the courtyard. Together, they entered the inn.
To his right, five men gathered around an unrolled silk scroll mounted on the wall. The ivory fabric's weave was intricate, and the Imperial Chop blazed like a crimson brand in a corner. He read it in a glance.
The Son of Heaven requires the aid of all men as sons might come to their father. Rebels assault the people and threaten the capital. All districts report.
Beside him, his wife blanched. “No,” she whispered.
Jie read it again and clenched his hands. "You were right, Mei. War was inevitable."
"I'd hoped-"
Jie nodded and took her hand in his for a quiet moment. When servants brought in the family’s luggage, Mei and her servant followed them past garish red pillars and up the stairs. He knew Mei wanted to avoid the noise of the tearoom and the implications of the notice.
Their son, Shan ran outside to play in the last rays of sunlight. Jie bought a cup of rice wine and sat at an empty table. He contemplated how to respond to the summons. Servants lit paper lanterns and the tearoom filled with more men who crowded the notice.
A group of boisterous young men sat at a nearby table and a game of sixes commenced with a clatter of dice.
The voices and noise blended into a monotonous drone. When the innkeeper brought him a plate of dumplings and a set of chopsticks, he barely tasted the food. Instead, he used the chopsticks and wrote plan after plan in the congealing sauce. He abandoned every scheme as impractical.
He did not have enough money to fund a campaign against the rebels. He had to continue to the capital and sign up. Jie longed to respond now, before Imperial troops slaughtered the Turbans.
The inn door slammed open and Shan rushed inside.
Bemused, Jie smiled as his son looked around the room as if all the demons of hell chased him. *After all, he is eight.*
Then Shan's wide-eyed expression found him, and Jie knew something was wrong.
"Papa, come outside, quick!"
"It's dark outside, Shan. There’s nothing to see."
"There’s a body!" Shan said. "A dead boy is in the garden."
Query - They Say
Dear Agent,
If asked, sixteen year old Mattie Loisel would have a hard time telling you what she wanted most in life: the lead in the school play, the designer clothes her family would never be able to afford or for her mother to have never been in the accident. She might not be able to tell you her number one, but she’s definitely made a list. Mattie itemizes and enumerates because she doesn't know how else to understand or control her life. So when her boyfriend scores an invitation to the biggest party of the year, Mattie lists everything she needs to make the day fabulous. Using her meager life savings to buy just the right dress and shoes, Mattie has the perfect day. Perfect that is, until she loses a borrowed Louis Vuitton purse.
Without any other options, Mattie makes a deal with the Irish Annies - three girls who control her high school with the power of a dictator and the mystique of the Fates. The Annies buy Mattie a replacement purse and give her two months to repay them the three thousand dollars or suffer the consequences.
But as the summer progresses, juggling four jobs isn't all that Mattie needs to worry about. When her boyfriend dumps her and already strained family relationships begin to deteriorate further, not even a list can solve Mattie's problems. To top it all off Mattie needs to worry about the new guy, the one who sees through her guises and challenges her to be more honest with herself than she's ever been before.
They Say is an 88,000 word YA retelling of Guy de Maupassant's classic The Necklace and it is my first novel. (Reason I am querying this particular agent.) I have included below the first # pages of my completed manuscript, and would be happy to send more if you are interested.
Regards,
If asked, sixteen year old Mattie Loisel would have a hard time telling you what she wanted most in life: the lead in the school play, the designer clothes her family would never be able to afford or for her mother to have never been in the accident. She might not be able to tell you her number one, but she’s definitely made a list. Mattie itemizes and enumerates because she doesn't know how else to understand or control her life. So when her boyfriend scores an invitation to the biggest party of the year, Mattie lists everything she needs to make the day fabulous. Using her meager life savings to buy just the right dress and shoes, Mattie has the perfect day. Perfect that is, until she loses a borrowed Louis Vuitton purse.
Without any other options, Mattie makes a deal with the Irish Annies - three girls who control her high school with the power of a dictator and the mystique of the Fates. The Annies buy Mattie a replacement purse and give her two months to repay them the three thousand dollars or suffer the consequences.
But as the summer progresses, juggling four jobs isn't all that Mattie needs to worry about. When her boyfriend dumps her and already strained family relationships begin to deteriorate further, not even a list can solve Mattie's problems. To top it all off Mattie needs to worry about the new guy, the one who sees through her guises and challenges her to be more honest with herself than she's ever been before.
They Say is an 88,000 word YA retelling of Guy de Maupassant's classic The Necklace and it is my first novel. (Reason I am querying this particular agent.) I have included below the first # pages of my completed manuscript, and would be happy to send more if you are interested.
Regards,
Oct 26, 2009
Query for Butter and Margarine (Revision #1)
Click here to read the original query.
Dear Agent,
It takes the right man remembering her for Sunny Cumberledge to realize she could still be remarkable.
Until Justin Reinhart came back into her life, Sunny had resigned herself to a margarine existence, a life hardly worth spreading on weekday toast. That’s what her family wants from her, for her to be the conventional Cumberledge sister. Her father, in particular, wants one daughter willing to exist as insularly as he has since his only son died eleven years ago. So for eleven years, Sunny has done just that, lived her small life as close to home as possible, certain she was doing the right thing for the family she loves in the most fiercest, gut- squeezing way.
However, as she moves forward in her relationship with Justin, Sunny realizes that being twenty- one and insignificant hasn’t helped her family; it’s only hurt her. She can’t be afraid to stand up and live for herself. She has to be the fiery, interesting woman Justin sees in her, the one he never forgot, even though Sunny was sure she wasn’t worth recalling. But more than anything, she has to live as big as she can, as both an example for her family, and for the brother who never got his own chance. Sunny has gotten by on merely existing so far; now, it’s finally time for her to live fantastically.
Butter and Margarine is a women’s fiction novel complete at 81,000 words. [Personal Information]. Thank you for your consideration of my work, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Saison Williams
Dear Agent,
It takes the right man remembering her for Sunny Cumberledge to realize she could still be remarkable.
Until Justin Reinhart came back into her life, Sunny had resigned herself to a margarine existence, a life hardly worth spreading on weekday toast. That’s what her family wants from her, for her to be the conventional Cumberledge sister. Her father, in particular, wants one daughter willing to exist as insularly as he has since his only son died eleven years ago. So for eleven years, Sunny has done just that, lived her small life as close to home as possible, certain she was doing the right thing for the family she loves in the most fiercest, gut- squeezing way.
However, as she moves forward in her relationship with Justin, Sunny realizes that being twenty- one and insignificant hasn’t helped her family; it’s only hurt her. She can’t be afraid to stand up and live for herself. She has to be the fiery, interesting woman Justin sees in her, the one he never forgot, even though Sunny was sure she wasn’t worth recalling. But more than anything, she has to live as big as she can, as both an example for her family, and for the brother who never got his own chance. Sunny has gotten by on merely existing so far; now, it’s finally time for her to live fantastically.
Butter and Margarine is a women’s fiction novel complete at 81,000 words. [Personal Information]. Thank you for your consideration of my work, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Saison Williams
Oct 25, 2009
Query- Black Box Confessional
This is a query for my husband's book entitled Black Box Confessional.
Mr. Blah Blah
With Blah Blah Blah
1234 Street
New York, NY
11111
Dear Mr. Blah Blah,
A paroled child rapist, a reporter and his father the town minister along with his best friend’s dad the Chief of Police, and an old Voodoo Witch make up five of the unsettling characters in my 108,000 word mystery/suspense novel Black Box Confessional.
For ten years in rural southeastern Kansas a dark truth has surrounded the deaths of two high school seniors found in a water logged truck at the lake on graduation morning. Dark secrets have always been the specialty of the town’s residents going back to the days of the Bloody Benders and the Dalton Gang. However, some secrets are too sinister to stay hidden.
Alex Mitchellson, an investigative reporter from Denver, has returned to his hometown for the first time in nearly ten years. The return is complicated by obligations, old romances, and the sudden death of his two friends. The most disturbing complication comes in the form of a tattered yellow envelope awaiting him in his hotel room. The letter, although very cryptic, warns him about the very lies that caused him to leave his home nearly a decade ago.
As more letters continue to arrive Alex is forced to faces his greatest fear; that there was more to his friend’s death. With the help of his high school girlfriend, and his last remaining friend, a social shut-in, together they raid police files, blackmail one person and seduce another all in the midst of have their every move watched by a dangerous outsider. Every piece of evidence points towards foul play and the possibility of a cover up, and an ever increasing danger for Alex.
Armed with the identity of the mysterious letter writer Alex takes the final step towards discovering what happened to his friends, and to unearth why they had been singled out. His questions are answered when he discovers the Chief of Police and his own father are at the root of a dark and sinister secret centered around the love the two boys shared. In a final confrontation Alex must make a dangerous choice to save himself or his friends from the hands of the two people he thought he could always trust.
I’m a graduate of Emporia State University, receiving a double bachelors in Theater and Journalism. While there I received many awards for articles published in the college newspaper. Several of my short plays have been produced by colleges in which I was affiliated.
Thank you for considering my novel, Black Box Confessional.
Sincerely,
Thomas Dean
Mr. Blah Blah
With Blah Blah Blah
1234 Street
New York, NY
11111
Dear Mr. Blah Blah,
A paroled child rapist, a reporter and his father the town minister along with his best friend’s dad the Chief of Police, and an old Voodoo Witch make up five of the unsettling characters in my 108,000 word mystery/suspense novel Black Box Confessional.
For ten years in rural southeastern Kansas a dark truth has surrounded the deaths of two high school seniors found in a water logged truck at the lake on graduation morning. Dark secrets have always been the specialty of the town’s residents going back to the days of the Bloody Benders and the Dalton Gang. However, some secrets are too sinister to stay hidden.
Alex Mitchellson, an investigative reporter from Denver, has returned to his hometown for the first time in nearly ten years. The return is complicated by obligations, old romances, and the sudden death of his two friends. The most disturbing complication comes in the form of a tattered yellow envelope awaiting him in his hotel room. The letter, although very cryptic, warns him about the very lies that caused him to leave his home nearly a decade ago.
As more letters continue to arrive Alex is forced to faces his greatest fear; that there was more to his friend’s death. With the help of his high school girlfriend, and his last remaining friend, a social shut-in, together they raid police files, blackmail one person and seduce another all in the midst of have their every move watched by a dangerous outsider. Every piece of evidence points towards foul play and the possibility of a cover up, and an ever increasing danger for Alex.
Armed with the identity of the mysterious letter writer Alex takes the final step towards discovering what happened to his friends, and to unearth why they had been singled out. His questions are answered when he discovers the Chief of Police and his own father are at the root of a dark and sinister secret centered around the love the two boys shared. In a final confrontation Alex must make a dangerous choice to save himself or his friends from the hands of the two people he thought he could always trust.
I’m a graduate of Emporia State University, receiving a double bachelors in Theater and Journalism. While there I received many awards for articles published in the college newspaper. Several of my short plays have been produced by colleges in which I was affiliated.
Thank you for considering my novel, Black Box Confessional.
Sincerely,
Thomas Dean
Oct 23, 2009
Writing Contest Winner- Glass Dragons's Alien Invasion
All three finalists received votes, but the overwhelming majority went to Glass Dragon's Alien Invasion story!
Thanks to all for participating! Here's the winning entry one more time in case any of you missed it; the task was to write a scene about watching paint dry, proving that it is infinitely more interesting from a written perspective than a visual one...
It started just like an alien invasion movie. One minute we were eating our Cheerios in ignorant bliss, and the next thing we knew there were so many spaceships in orbit they blocked the sun. It was like Independence Day, only with no Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith to save us. They probably died when Hollywood was hit, anyway. So, yeah. We were screwed.
Everyone had their own ways of coping with impending doom. A few of the neighbors packed up and ran for the hills. Mom packed up Grandma and headed for church. She tried to get me to come, but I figured if I had to die, I wanted to die at home. So I gave Mom and Grandma a hug and a kiss each and told them I’d keep an eye on the house while they tried to get God to run interference.
After they left my eyes fell on the cans of paint sitting by the garage door. Mom had been trying to get me to paint that door for months now. She’d finally given up and was going to do it herself today. Before Armageddon interrupted breakfast, anyway. Just that morning she had said to me, “If I wait for you to do it I’ll be dead before it’s done!”
Dead before it’s done.
I shivered. Then I picked up the paint roller. Why not? It’d be great to prove Mom wrong just once before the end.
Mom had already done all the prep work, so I got right to painting. After a while I got a creepy feeling like I was being watched. When I turned around to put more paint in the tray I saw something that stopped me cold.
There were three of them in the street, just standing there. Watching me.
No. Not me. The door. Their eye stalks were pointed at the garage door, straight at the panels I had already painted. They were watching the paint dry, and they were fascinated!
More and more showed up to watch as I painted. The street filled up with waving tentacles. They clustered on the neighbors’ lawns and rooftops. A few ships hovered overhead. I had never been so scared in my life, but I kept working. When I started a second coat I swear they all went, “Ooooh!”
When I was finished I sat on the driveway and watched the paint dry with them. As the last tacky spot hardened in the sun a collective sigh went through my alien audience. Then they took the paint and left. And I mean they took ALL the paint they could find and left the planet.
When they came back they helped rebuild the cities they’d trashed. When they found out we could make more paint, they opened trade negotiations. Humans are now major players in the intergalactic marketplace.
I saved the Earth by painting a door. Mom was so proud.
Oh, and Jeff Goldblum’s okay. Don’t know about Will Smith, though.
Thanks to all for participating! Here's the winning entry one more time in case any of you missed it; the task was to write a scene about watching paint dry, proving that it is infinitely more interesting from a written perspective than a visual one...
It started just like an alien invasion movie. One minute we were eating our Cheerios in ignorant bliss, and the next thing we knew there were so many spaceships in orbit they blocked the sun. It was like Independence Day, only with no Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith to save us. They probably died when Hollywood was hit, anyway. So, yeah. We were screwed.
Everyone had their own ways of coping with impending doom. A few of the neighbors packed up and ran for the hills. Mom packed up Grandma and headed for church. She tried to get me to come, but I figured if I had to die, I wanted to die at home. So I gave Mom and Grandma a hug and a kiss each and told them I’d keep an eye on the house while they tried to get God to run interference.
After they left my eyes fell on the cans of paint sitting by the garage door. Mom had been trying to get me to paint that door for months now. She’d finally given up and was going to do it herself today. Before Armageddon interrupted breakfast, anyway. Just that morning she had said to me, “If I wait for you to do it I’ll be dead before it’s done!”
Dead before it’s done.
I shivered. Then I picked up the paint roller. Why not? It’d be great to prove Mom wrong just once before the end.
Mom had already done all the prep work, so I got right to painting. After a while I got a creepy feeling like I was being watched. When I turned around to put more paint in the tray I saw something that stopped me cold.
There were three of them in the street, just standing there. Watching me.
No. Not me. The door. Their eye stalks were pointed at the garage door, straight at the panels I had already painted. They were watching the paint dry, and they were fascinated!
More and more showed up to watch as I painted. The street filled up with waving tentacles. They clustered on the neighbors’ lawns and rooftops. A few ships hovered overhead. I had never been so scared in my life, but I kept working. When I started a second coat I swear they all went, “Ooooh!”
When I was finished I sat on the driveway and watched the paint dry with them. As the last tacky spot hardened in the sun a collective sigh went through my alien audience. Then they took the paint and left. And I mean they took ALL the paint they could find and left the planet.
When they came back they helped rebuild the cities they’d trashed. When they found out we could make more paint, they opened trade negotiations. Humans are now major players in the intergalactic marketplace.
I saved the Earth by painting a door. Mom was so proud.
Oh, and Jeff Goldblum’s okay. Don’t know about Will Smith, though.
QUERY – JACK MBC (Revision #1)
Click here to read the original query.
Dear Agent,
Sixteen-year-old Jack’s life is changed when he falls off the roof of a Las Vegas Hotel and doesn’t die. He discovers he has a form of Mind Body Control, or MBC for short. At signs of danger, he can order his body to turn into marble, steel or whatever he needs.
His friends call him a superhero, but Jack isn’t sure he wants to be one. Using MBC gives him head-splitting migraines. And when MBC is on, his emotions turn off, and may never come back on again. He could turn into a catatonic zombie, but how can he say no to rescuing people from certain deaths?
Then Jack makes a serious mistake and a man dies. MBC’s side effects become sinister, pushing him into periods of depression and violence. Will Jack figure out how to deal with MBC and use it on his own terms, or will it turn him into an unrecognizable monster?
JACK MBC is a young adult novel, complete at 85,000 words. I have enclosed the first xx pages for your consideration. Thank you.
Dear Agent,
Sixteen-year-old Jack’s life is changed when he falls off the roof of a Las Vegas Hotel and doesn’t die. He discovers he has a form of Mind Body Control, or MBC for short. At signs of danger, he can order his body to turn into marble, steel or whatever he needs.
His friends call him a superhero, but Jack isn’t sure he wants to be one. Using MBC gives him head-splitting migraines. And when MBC is on, his emotions turn off, and may never come back on again. He could turn into a catatonic zombie, but how can he say no to rescuing people from certain deaths?
Then Jack makes a serious mistake and a man dies. MBC’s side effects become sinister, pushing him into periods of depression and violence. Will Jack figure out how to deal with MBC and use it on his own terms, or will it turn him into an unrecognizable monster?
JACK MBC is a young adult novel, complete at 85,000 words. I have enclosed the first xx pages for your consideration. Thank you.
Oct 22, 2009
Query Revision #1 - NO DARKER FATE
Click here to read the original query.
Dear Agent,
For Lucas Fowler, superhuman abilities seem like the answer to his extreme fear of death until he becomes what he fears most—a killer.
When Lucas opens a picture sent to his cell phone by a stranger he thinks it's misdirected since he doesn't know the man in the image.
That night he feels changed. Suddenly fearless, able to outrun cars, punch holes in concrete, and shift into a blighted alternate reality, Lucas tracks down the man in the picture. Instead of playing savior, Lucas kills him. Another picture comes, another murder. Lucas can't control his new abilities or stop his homicidal instinct. Each time he learns a little more about what's happening to him. But to discover it all—the secret society of Scions, the rogue Scion controlling him, the super-powered undead he's creating with each murder—he'll have to keep on killing. And he'll need to be fearless all on his own.
NO DARKER FATE, an urban fantasy, is 95,000 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Dear Agent,
For Lucas Fowler, superhuman abilities seem like the answer to his extreme fear of death until he becomes what he fears most—a killer.
When Lucas opens a picture sent to his cell phone by a stranger he thinks it's misdirected since he doesn't know the man in the image.
That night he feels changed. Suddenly fearless, able to outrun cars, punch holes in concrete, and shift into a blighted alternate reality, Lucas tracks down the man in the picture. Instead of playing savior, Lucas kills him. Another picture comes, another murder. Lucas can't control his new abilities or stop his homicidal instinct. Each time he learns a little more about what's happening to him. But to discover it all—the secret society of Scions, the rogue Scion controlling him, the super-powered undead he's creating with each murder—he'll have to keep on killing. And he'll need to be fearless all on his own.
NO DARKER FATE, an urban fantasy, is 95,000 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Query Revision #2: HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS
Click here to read the original query.
Click here to read the first revision.
Dear [Agent]:
Susanna’s always been the caretaker of the family, and Mama the free spirit. But when Susanna’s sister has a dangerous encounter with Mama’s drunken brother at a party, Mama’s self-absorption turns dangerous. And when Susanna demands a retribution that never comes, Susanna has had enough and looks to Calvin, her childhood friend, for comfort.
By the time Calvin leaves for Vietnam, she’s secretly fallen for him. As she tries to be the friend he needs, he writes about impossible choices with no right answers and how good people can be changed by terrible circumstances. The wisdom in his words is not lost on her, even as he captures her heart more completely, whether he intends to or not.
When Susanna discovers a horrifying secret about her own brother, she needs all the wisdom she can gather as her previous judgments come back to haunt her. Now she must choose between denial and accountability, condemnation and forgiveness, and she’s determined not to repeat her mother’s mistakes even as she begins to understand how she may have made them.
HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS is a work of women’s fiction taking place in Louisville, Kentucky in the late 1960s, and is complete at approximately 118,000 words. I have [credits/credentials redacted].
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Angie H.
Click here to read the first revision.
Dear [Agent]:
Susanna’s always been the caretaker of the family, and Mama the free spirit. But when Susanna’s sister has a dangerous encounter with Mama’s drunken brother at a party, Mama’s self-absorption turns dangerous. And when Susanna demands a retribution that never comes, Susanna has had enough and looks to Calvin, her childhood friend, for comfort.
By the time Calvin leaves for Vietnam, she’s secretly fallen for him. As she tries to be the friend he needs, he writes about impossible choices with no right answers and how good people can be changed by terrible circumstances. The wisdom in his words is not lost on her, even as he captures her heart more completely, whether he intends to or not.
When Susanna discovers a horrifying secret about her own brother, she needs all the wisdom she can gather as her previous judgments come back to haunt her. Now she must choose between denial and accountability, condemnation and forgiveness, and she’s determined not to repeat her mother’s mistakes even as she begins to understand how she may have made them.
HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS is a work of women’s fiction taking place in Louisville, Kentucky in the late 1960s, and is complete at approximately 118,000 words. I have [credits/credentials redacted].
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Angie H.
Oct 21, 2009
Query - Intelligent Design
A man falls to his death from the seventh floor of a London building. The third Sunday in a row this has happened.
Coincidence? Or is there a serial killer on the loose with a liking for high places and an aversion to Sundays?
David doesn't care. He's a journalist and it makes great copy. Until he interviews a witness and she also dies. Perhaps there really is something more sinister behind the deaths?
Detective Inspector Lane doesn't think so. And neither does her Chief Inspector. He has given her until next Sunday to prove they were just accidents and quell the rising public anxiety.
Her colleague, however, Detective Sergeant Small, thinks there is more to the deaths than just coincidence.
David is continuing to make things worse. He has piqued public interest with a series of articles, designed to convince his readers a vicious killer really is stalking the streets of London.
All the press interest is proving much more difficult for DI Lane to deal with than the investigation itself. It seems there is very little she can do to convince the public the deaths were nothing more than tragic accidents.
But now, she too is having her doubts.
Intelligent Design is a completed 110,000 word crime novel set in contemporary London.
This is my third novel, but the first I have tried to publish.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Best wishes,
Julian Gilbert
Coincidence? Or is there a serial killer on the loose with a liking for high places and an aversion to Sundays?
David doesn't care. He's a journalist and it makes great copy. Until he interviews a witness and she also dies. Perhaps there really is something more sinister behind the deaths?
Detective Inspector Lane doesn't think so. And neither does her Chief Inspector. He has given her until next Sunday to prove they were just accidents and quell the rising public anxiety.
Her colleague, however, Detective Sergeant Small, thinks there is more to the deaths than just coincidence.
David is continuing to make things worse. He has piqued public interest with a series of articles, designed to convince his readers a vicious killer really is stalking the streets of London.
All the press interest is proving much more difficult for DI Lane to deal with than the investigation itself. It seems there is very little she can do to convince the public the deaths were nothing more than tragic accidents.
But now, she too is having her doubts.
Intelligent Design is a completed 110,000 word crime novel set in contemporary London.
This is my third novel, but the first I have tried to publish.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Best wishes,
Julian Gilbert
Query Revision #1: HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS
Click here to read the original query.
Dear [Agent]:
Growing up in Louisville in the 1960s, teenage Susanna has always loved Mama’s adventuresome nature, and she’s been happy to take care of her younger siblings so Mama can be free to spin fantasies and fun – that is, until her sister has a dangerous encounter with drunken Uncle George at one of Mama’s parties. Suddenly Mama’s eccentricities seem irresponsible, even dangerous. Worse, Mama minimizes her brother’s behavior and convinces Daddy to forgive him.
Appalled, Susanna escapes to the farm next door and her friendship with Calvin, whose steadfast nature has been a comfort since they were small. By the time Calvin enlists in the army to escape his father’s control, Susanna has secretly fallen for him. Within weeks, he’s fighting in Vietnam. While Susanna is still angry with her parents, Calvin provides an unexpected source of wisdom – he’s the most principled person she’s ever known, so when he writes of impossible choices with no right answers and how good people can be changed by terrible circumstances, she begins to realize nothing is as simple as she’d once believed.
When Susanna discovers a horrifying secret in the hayloft, she suddenly finds herself faced with impossible decisions – ones that will impact her own beloved brother, a boy she’s loved and cared for as if he were her own child. She must choose between denial and accountability, condemnation and forgiveness, and she’s determined not to repeat her parents’ mistakes even as she begins to understand how they may have made them. And as her relationship with Calvin intensifies, love and life will never be the same.
HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS is a work of women’s fiction and is complete at approximately 118,000 words. I have [credits/credentials redacted].
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Angie H.
Dear [Agent]:
Growing up in Louisville in the 1960s, teenage Susanna has always loved Mama’s adventuresome nature, and she’s been happy to take care of her younger siblings so Mama can be free to spin fantasies and fun – that is, until her sister has a dangerous encounter with drunken Uncle George at one of Mama’s parties. Suddenly Mama’s eccentricities seem irresponsible, even dangerous. Worse, Mama minimizes her brother’s behavior and convinces Daddy to forgive him.
Appalled, Susanna escapes to the farm next door and her friendship with Calvin, whose steadfast nature has been a comfort since they were small. By the time Calvin enlists in the army to escape his father’s control, Susanna has secretly fallen for him. Within weeks, he’s fighting in Vietnam. While Susanna is still angry with her parents, Calvin provides an unexpected source of wisdom – he’s the most principled person she’s ever known, so when he writes of impossible choices with no right answers and how good people can be changed by terrible circumstances, she begins to realize nothing is as simple as she’d once believed.
When Susanna discovers a horrifying secret in the hayloft, she suddenly finds herself faced with impossible decisions – ones that will impact her own beloved brother, a boy she’s loved and cared for as if he were her own child. She must choose between denial and accountability, condemnation and forgiveness, and she’s determined not to repeat her parents’ mistakes even as she begins to understand how they may have made them. And as her relationship with Calvin intensifies, love and life will never be the same.
HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS is a work of women’s fiction and is complete at approximately 118,000 words. I have [credits/credentials redacted].
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Angie H.
QUERY - NO DARKER FATE
Dear Agent,
Lucas Fowler fears death. Viruses, slippery steps, strangers terrify him, and he’s built a disinfected, hermetically-sealed life to make sure he gets the 70-plus years he’s due. Years his parents never had.
He should have been more careful. He shouldn’t have opened the image sent to his cell phone by a stranger.
That night, Lucas feels the change. Suddenly fearless, able to punch holes in concrete, outrun cars, and shift into a blighted alternate reality, Lucas transforms into the thing he fears most — a killer. He tracks down and kills the man in the picture. Another picture comes, another murder. Each time he learns a little more about what’s happening to him. But to discover it all — the secret society of Scions, the super-powered undead he’s creating with each murder, the rogue Scion using him to kill, and the remedy to his own cowardice — he’ll have to keep on killing. And he’ll need to be fearless all on his own.
NO DARKER FATE, an urban fantasy, is 95,000 words. It is my first novel. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Lucas Fowler fears death. Viruses, slippery steps, strangers terrify him, and he’s built a disinfected, hermetically-sealed life to make sure he gets the 70-plus years he’s due. Years his parents never had.
He should have been more careful. He shouldn’t have opened the image sent to his cell phone by a stranger.
That night, Lucas feels the change. Suddenly fearless, able to punch holes in concrete, outrun cars, and shift into a blighted alternate reality, Lucas transforms into the thing he fears most — a killer. He tracks down and kills the man in the picture. Another picture comes, another murder. Each time he learns a little more about what’s happening to him. But to discover it all — the secret society of Scions, the super-powered undead he’s creating with each murder, the rogue Scion using him to kill, and the remedy to his own cowardice — he’ll have to keep on killing. And he’ll need to be fearless all on his own.
NO DARKER FATE, an urban fantasy, is 95,000 words. It is my first novel. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Writing Contest- Finalists
First off, thanks to everyone who submitted entries. I read them all several times and I enjoyed playing judge. My instincts were correct: watching paint dry can be interesting! There were 16 pieces to choose from, and my task was to narrow it down to three. It was difficult. I can't imagine what Nathan Bransford went through trying to whittle 2,500 entries down to a handful in his first paragraph contest...
Now to the brass tacks (NOTE: what the hell does that saying even mean, anyway? Feel free to discuss in the comments. After you vote.)
Among the entries there were three that stood out to me among all others:
Jan Melara did a great job at evoking fear and horror. It played on my senses of sight and sound, and the ending was terrible (in a good way). Click here to read the entry.
Glass Dragon cracked me up with the alien invasion story. It had a great voice and a fun wit to it. Among all the submissions, it had a very unique premise. Click here to read the entry.
Brenda also cracked me up, and did an awesome job with the build-up to the punchline. It was well-written, and I liked the way she portrayed the character of the novelist, so indignant to the suffering of her foe. Click here to read the entry.
Vote for your favorite in the comments on this post. You have until 8am EDT Friday morning to vote. Read the entries many times, but please only vote once.
If you would like to comment on any of the submissions, feel free to offer kudos and/or polite criticism to other submissions that you liked..but only the finalists listed here will be open for voting. I know there are many other entries that are worthy of accolades.
Now to the brass tacks (NOTE: what the hell does that saying even mean, anyway? Feel free to discuss in the comments. After you vote.)
Among the entries there were three that stood out to me among all others:
Jan Melara did a great job at evoking fear and horror. It played on my senses of sight and sound, and the ending was terrible (in a good way). Click here to read the entry.
Glass Dragon cracked me up with the alien invasion story. It had a great voice and a fun wit to it. Among all the submissions, it had a very unique premise. Click here to read the entry.
Brenda also cracked me up, and did an awesome job with the build-up to the punchline. It was well-written, and I liked the way she portrayed the character of the novelist, so indignant to the suffering of her foe. Click here to read the entry.
Vote for your favorite in the comments on this post. You have until 8am EDT Friday morning to vote. Read the entries many times, but please only vote once.
If you would like to comment on any of the submissions, feel free to offer kudos and/or polite criticism to other submissions that you liked..but only the finalists listed here will be open for voting. I know there are many other entries that are worthy of accolades.
Oct 20, 2009
Query - HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS
Dear [Agent]:
A teenage girl in 1960s Louisville struggles to protect her younger siblings from dangers that her mother is too self-absorbed to recognize, and only the wisdom of her best friend (a farm-boy turned soldier), as he writes to her from the Vietnamese jungle, can change her perspective and give her the strength to confront the most dangerous secret of all.
Susanna has always loved Mama’s adventuresome nature, and she’s been happy to take care of her younger siblings so Mama can be free to spin fantasies and fun – that is, until her sister has a dangerous encounter with drunken Uncle George at one of Mama’s parties. Suddenly Mama’s eccentricities seem irresponsible, even dangerous. Worse, Mama minimizes her brother’s behavior and convinces Daddy to forgive him. Appalled, Susanna escapes to the farm next door and her friendship with Calvin, whose steadfast nature has been a comfort since they were small. By the time Calvin enlists in the army to escape his father’s control, Susanna has secretly fallen for him. Within weeks, he’s fighting in Vietnam.
While Susanna is still angry with her parents, Calvin provides an unexpected source of wisdom – he’s the most principled person she’s ever known, so when he writes of impossible choices with no right answers and how good people can be changed by terrible circumstances, she begins to realize nothing is as simple as she’d once believed. And when she discovers a horrifying secret in the hayloft, she’s suddenly faced with her own impossible decisions – ones that will impact her own beloved brother, a boy she’s loved and cared for as if he were her own child since he was born. She must choose between denial and accountability, condemnation and forgiveness, and she’s determined not to repeat her parents’ mistakes even as she begins to understand how they may have made them. And as her relationship with Calvin intensifies, love and life will never be the same.
HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS is a work of women’s fiction and is complete at approximately 118,000 words. People who enjoyed the poignant coming-of-age story in The Secret Life of Bees or the intensity of long-time unrequited love in The Thorn Birds may enjoy my book, and so might those who were drawn to the tumultuous family dynamics in Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. I have [credits/credentials redacted].
A teenage girl in 1960s Louisville struggles to protect her younger siblings from dangers that her mother is too self-absorbed to recognize, and only the wisdom of her best friend (a farm-boy turned soldier), as he writes to her from the Vietnamese jungle, can change her perspective and give her the strength to confront the most dangerous secret of all.
Susanna has always loved Mama’s adventuresome nature, and she’s been happy to take care of her younger siblings so Mama can be free to spin fantasies and fun – that is, until her sister has a dangerous encounter with drunken Uncle George at one of Mama’s parties. Suddenly Mama’s eccentricities seem irresponsible, even dangerous. Worse, Mama minimizes her brother’s behavior and convinces Daddy to forgive him. Appalled, Susanna escapes to the farm next door and her friendship with Calvin, whose steadfast nature has been a comfort since they were small. By the time Calvin enlists in the army to escape his father’s control, Susanna has secretly fallen for him. Within weeks, he’s fighting in Vietnam.
While Susanna is still angry with her parents, Calvin provides an unexpected source of wisdom – he’s the most principled person she’s ever known, so when he writes of impossible choices with no right answers and how good people can be changed by terrible circumstances, she begins to realize nothing is as simple as she’d once believed. And when she discovers a horrifying secret in the hayloft, she’s suddenly faced with her own impossible decisions – ones that will impact her own beloved brother, a boy she’s loved and cared for as if he were her own child since he was born. She must choose between denial and accountability, condemnation and forgiveness, and she’s determined not to repeat her parents’ mistakes even as she begins to understand how they may have made them. And as her relationship with Calvin intensifies, love and life will never be the same.
HIDDEN IN TALL GRASS is a work of women’s fiction and is complete at approximately 118,000 words. People who enjoyed the poignant coming-of-age story in The Secret Life of Bees or the intensity of long-time unrequited love in The Thorn Birds may enjoy my book, and so might those who were drawn to the tumultuous family dynamics in Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. I have [credits/credentials redacted].
Oct 19, 2009
IRON THIRST - SAMPLE PAGES (REVISED)
Click here for a search string on IRON THIRST. There are queries and sample pages available.
I redid the beginning, and added a chapter before. It is told from another POV, someone that is aware of the danger that lurks. Let me know what you guys think. Especially of the POV switch in chapter 2. The rest of the story is told in Felicity's POV. Thanks-
Chapter 1
*/ /*
*/Adam Bristow/*
It is merely the beginning of the night when Gabriel decides upon his first victim. He locks his sights on her the moment she steps into the bar. The curvaceous blonde lass will be in is bed in under an hour, and shortly after her blood will be in his veins. She doesn't stand a chance.
Thursday night at DragonCon is when most of the guests check into their hotel and start the weekend with a drink in hand. My hand is empty. The first night of Con is when I begin to patrol, as the out-of-towners descend upon our town. I'm not worried about the geeks, the costumed
fans, or the party animals. My concern is very specific--those who are removing their disguises. Vamps get this weekend to be themselves, but there are rules, and this bloodsucker is dangerously close to breaking the first one--aggravating me.
His fangs are protruding, turned on by the blue-eyed soon-to-be donor. She doesn't blink as she gravitates towards him. What irks me is that she is an unwilling donor. There will be plenty of those, but I ain't going to sit on my arse and watch. She may be walking to him on her own
two feet, but the brain in her head currently belongs to him.
What a lovely time to buy my dear old pal a drink?
"Gabriel," I call out as I step in front of her path, breaking their eye contact and the hold he has over her. Bastard snarls at me. "Run along, love," I tell the blonde.
She blinks a few times with that expression of confusion. Lost at why she is standing here, she lets out a heavy sigh and scurries along looking for her friends.
When I look back, Gabriel has painted a smile on his face. He leans in close to me so others can't hear. "Bristow, if you continue to run off my dinner then I will be forced to believe that you are volunteering. Although you're not my taste, your blood is much too bitter."
No one likes a clever vampire. I pull the unlit pipe from my lips, and raise an eyebrow at him. "You are not threatening me now, are ya?"
His smile vanishes. "I was not harming anyone, nor am I breaking any of your precious rules."
"That's debatable, and I am not really up to the debate. So, just behave yourself and you'll live, well exist, to see your two hundredth birthday."
"Ahh, you flatter me. I am not nearly that old."
"But I am," adds a smooth Arabian voice from behind me.
I am a rather smart bloke. I wouldn't still be alive if I wasn't. So allowing a thousand year old vamp to sneak up on me is just piss poor form. I turn to see the dark-skinned vampire, fangs extended, staring back at me. I haven't seen Zamir in nearly ten years, and if I am being
honest, I ain't thrilled at seeing him now.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, rubbing my palm over the prickly stubble that is my hair. /More importantly, when are you leaving?/
I could take out Gabriel and three fledglings all by myself. But this bloody bastard shooting holes through my skin, I ain't so sure of. I avert my eyes to a spot above his slick black hair. Looking at the floor would give the appearance of weakness, and I ain't weak and even less stupid.
"Ah, my dearest Bristow, you do not seem happy to see me. No matter. Many of my progenies look expectantly upon this weekend, and I find myself wondering what all the chatter is about. Thought I would come and see for myself."
Rubbish, I'm sure. "I'm on my early rounds making sure everyone keeps it copasetic. We want all the humans' hearts beating and the secret safe. We got rules in this area. So, keep it peaceful."
As I turn to walk away, Zamir says, "We are aware of your so-called rules. Maybe you should run along and check the more recent additions to our world. The ones that actually care."
I hate the way his words crawl over my skin. I glance at Gabriel's smug face, grinning like he's getting away with something. I'd love nothing more than to knock him arse over elbow, but starting a fight on the first night over something as silly as pride would not be my best move.
Not without back up. Currently, the rest of my team is doing the exact same thing all through the other three hotels.
If the humans knew what was swarming DragonCon, they might have just stayed home behind locked doors. Not that a flimsy door would keep the monsters out.
Chapter 2
*/Felicity Johnson/*
Who knew two tiny fangs could be so hard to find? I bought the pair nearly five months ago, and I specifically remember thinking to put them somewhere that I could find them. My room is a complete and utter disaster. I have been through every drawer, emptying the contents onto
my bed in search for the last thing needed to complete my costume. I can't be a vampire without fangs.
I plop down on the bed, and close my eyes. /Where did I put them?/
"Bathroom, second drawer, along with the red contacts," I say aloud to the ceiling.
I leap from the bed. Christian will be here any minute, and I want him to see the complete look. I slide open the drawer, and there they sit. I can't believe I forgot the contacts too. That set me back nearly a hundred bucks.
I insert the teeth, and begin trying to attach the colored plastic to my eyeballs. I should have waited on the eye makeup. I run back to my closet to grab shoes, zipping up the knee-high leather boots.
I stop by the mirror for one last look. The struggle was well worth it. My eyes glow a bright crimson with black around the edges, as if the fire inside has burnt the curved periphery. I bounce my palm off the spikes of my black pixie wig. The menacing grin is complete with two
sharp fangs over my scarlet red lips that look poised to wreak havoc amongst the unsuspecting city of Atlanta, Georgia.
Well, the town won't be that unsuspecting considering the rest of the people at DragonCon will also be dressed in costumes ranging from Star Trek to Night of the Living Dead.
As I darken the shadows under my eyes to give myself the true undead look, the doorbell rings. I slide down the banister to get to the door. Safer than taking the stairs in these boots.
I fling the door open, and there he stands. We both let out a scream and begin cackling at each other. Christian is a yicky-ucky zombie, complete with a tattered, stained, once-white shirt, suspenders, and pants that look as if they had been buried. His normally perfect hair is dirty and
a total mess. His skin has been painted a weird grayish green, and his mouth is bloodstained. No one would recognize this scary critter as my clean-cut best buddy.
"Felicity Johnson, you look a-freakin-mazing. I would have never thought that you, of all people, could pull this off."
I should be offended, but he is quite right. Everyday "me" is not sexy, not scary, and definitely not a vampire.
"Well, hello Pot, I must be the kettle," I say with a laugh while opening the door wide. "Hey, listen to this," I say, letting out my version of a snarl. "I've been practicing."
"Um, keep practicing. You sound like a drowning kitten."
I stick out my pouty lip. I at least sound like an angry kitten, not a completely helpless one.
"Hey, Fee… I…I…," Christian stutters. He looks down and starts to fiddle with his shirt sleeves, pulling them longer. "I may have kinda invited Mike."
"Why, in the name of everything holy, would you do that?" I ask as I look down, fretting over the red tank top with three holes sliced across the front and the black leather miniskirt. It's one thing to look this way in front of Christian and tens of thousands of random strangers, but
Mike will never let me hear the end of it.
"He swears that he will be good, and he is excited about meeting some of the celebrities, and /he/ is even dressing up."
"Is he meeting us there?"
Christian walks over to the couch and plops down. He tugs again on the sleeves. They can't stretch any further. "No, he is meeting us here."
"Are you telling me that you gave Mr. Grabass my address? What were you thinking?"
He stops jerking on his clothes, and looks up at me. "You are totally over-reacting. Just calm down. He's not that bad."
My eyes roll like dice. Mike Fletcher is Christian's best guy friend who is nothing like him. More like his alter-ego. Where Christian is sweet, understanding, and everything a girl looks for in a best friend, Mike is a chauvinistic, egocentric, pig-headed jerk. They were fraternity brothers at UGA, home of the Bulldogs, and I've been stuck with him ever since. Lucky me.
The door bell rings, and I jump ten feet in the air. Just wonderful. I don't have time to tone down the outfit. I am stuck dressed like this with only a piece of wood separating me from my nemesis. I take a deep breath, and then open the door.
"Hey sexy lady, where's Felicity?" Mike says with a wink. I start to walk away, when he adds, "What's eating her? Wish it was…" I turn on my heels, and playfully punch him in the stomach before he can finish that thought.
"Dude, you said you would behave," Christian states.
"Man, that's before I knew she was going as Sexy Fee." He looks at me and tries to turn on the charm, softening his voice and flashing a smile. "Felicity, I am just kidding. I think it's cool you got all dressed up. You look really nice and very realistic. Can I lick your fangs?"
He almost had me believing that for a minute.
I redid the beginning, and added a chapter before. It is told from another POV, someone that is aware of the danger that lurks. Let me know what you guys think. Especially of the POV switch in chapter 2. The rest of the story is told in Felicity's POV. Thanks-
Chapter 1
*/ /*
*/Adam Bristow/*
It is merely the beginning of the night when Gabriel decides upon his first victim. He locks his sights on her the moment she steps into the bar. The curvaceous blonde lass will be in is bed in under an hour, and shortly after her blood will be in his veins. She doesn't stand a chance.
Thursday night at DragonCon is when most of the guests check into their hotel and start the weekend with a drink in hand. My hand is empty. The first night of Con is when I begin to patrol, as the out-of-towners descend upon our town. I'm not worried about the geeks, the costumed
fans, or the party animals. My concern is very specific--those who are removing their disguises. Vamps get this weekend to be themselves, but there are rules, and this bloodsucker is dangerously close to breaking the first one--aggravating me.
His fangs are protruding, turned on by the blue-eyed soon-to-be donor. She doesn't blink as she gravitates towards him. What irks me is that she is an unwilling donor. There will be plenty of those, but I ain't going to sit on my arse and watch. She may be walking to him on her own
two feet, but the brain in her head currently belongs to him.
What a lovely time to buy my dear old pal a drink?
"Gabriel," I call out as I step in front of her path, breaking their eye contact and the hold he has over her. Bastard snarls at me. "Run along, love," I tell the blonde.
She blinks a few times with that expression of confusion. Lost at why she is standing here, she lets out a heavy sigh and scurries along looking for her friends.
When I look back, Gabriel has painted a smile on his face. He leans in close to me so others can't hear. "Bristow, if you continue to run off my dinner then I will be forced to believe that you are volunteering. Although you're not my taste, your blood is much too bitter."
No one likes a clever vampire. I pull the unlit pipe from my lips, and raise an eyebrow at him. "You are not threatening me now, are ya?"
His smile vanishes. "I was not harming anyone, nor am I breaking any of your precious rules."
"That's debatable, and I am not really up to the debate. So, just behave yourself and you'll live, well exist, to see your two hundredth birthday."
"Ahh, you flatter me. I am not nearly that old."
"But I am," adds a smooth Arabian voice from behind me.
I am a rather smart bloke. I wouldn't still be alive if I wasn't. So allowing a thousand year old vamp to sneak up on me is just piss poor form. I turn to see the dark-skinned vampire, fangs extended, staring back at me. I haven't seen Zamir in nearly ten years, and if I am being
honest, I ain't thrilled at seeing him now.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, rubbing my palm over the prickly stubble that is my hair. /More importantly, when are you leaving?/
I could take out Gabriel and three fledglings all by myself. But this bloody bastard shooting holes through my skin, I ain't so sure of. I avert my eyes to a spot above his slick black hair. Looking at the floor would give the appearance of weakness, and I ain't weak and even less stupid.
"Ah, my dearest Bristow, you do not seem happy to see me. No matter. Many of my progenies look expectantly upon this weekend, and I find myself wondering what all the chatter is about. Thought I would come and see for myself."
Rubbish, I'm sure. "I'm on my early rounds making sure everyone keeps it copasetic. We want all the humans' hearts beating and the secret safe. We got rules in this area. So, keep it peaceful."
As I turn to walk away, Zamir says, "We are aware of your so-called rules. Maybe you should run along and check the more recent additions to our world. The ones that actually care."
I hate the way his words crawl over my skin. I glance at Gabriel's smug face, grinning like he's getting away with something. I'd love nothing more than to knock him arse over elbow, but starting a fight on the first night over something as silly as pride would not be my best move.
Not without back up. Currently, the rest of my team is doing the exact same thing all through the other three hotels.
If the humans knew what was swarming DragonCon, they might have just stayed home behind locked doors. Not that a flimsy door would keep the monsters out.
Chapter 2
*/Felicity Johnson/*
Who knew two tiny fangs could be so hard to find? I bought the pair nearly five months ago, and I specifically remember thinking to put them somewhere that I could find them. My room is a complete and utter disaster. I have been through every drawer, emptying the contents onto
my bed in search for the last thing needed to complete my costume. I can't be a vampire without fangs.
I plop down on the bed, and close my eyes. /Where did I put them?/
"Bathroom, second drawer, along with the red contacts," I say aloud to the ceiling.
I leap from the bed. Christian will be here any minute, and I want him to see the complete look. I slide open the drawer, and there they sit. I can't believe I forgot the contacts too. That set me back nearly a hundred bucks.
I insert the teeth, and begin trying to attach the colored plastic to my eyeballs. I should have waited on the eye makeup. I run back to my closet to grab shoes, zipping up the knee-high leather boots.
I stop by the mirror for one last look. The struggle was well worth it. My eyes glow a bright crimson with black around the edges, as if the fire inside has burnt the curved periphery. I bounce my palm off the spikes of my black pixie wig. The menacing grin is complete with two
sharp fangs over my scarlet red lips that look poised to wreak havoc amongst the unsuspecting city of Atlanta, Georgia.
Well, the town won't be that unsuspecting considering the rest of the people at DragonCon will also be dressed in costumes ranging from Star Trek to Night of the Living Dead.
As I darken the shadows under my eyes to give myself the true undead look, the doorbell rings. I slide down the banister to get to the door. Safer than taking the stairs in these boots.
I fling the door open, and there he stands. We both let out a scream and begin cackling at each other. Christian is a yicky-ucky zombie, complete with a tattered, stained, once-white shirt, suspenders, and pants that look as if they had been buried. His normally perfect hair is dirty and
a total mess. His skin has been painted a weird grayish green, and his mouth is bloodstained. No one would recognize this scary critter as my clean-cut best buddy.
"Felicity Johnson, you look a-freakin-mazing. I would have never thought that you, of all people, could pull this off."
I should be offended, but he is quite right. Everyday "me" is not sexy, not scary, and definitely not a vampire.
"Well, hello Pot, I must be the kettle," I say with a laugh while opening the door wide. "Hey, listen to this," I say, letting out my version of a snarl. "I've been practicing."
"Um, keep practicing. You sound like a drowning kitten."
I stick out my pouty lip. I at least sound like an angry kitten, not a completely helpless one.
"Hey, Fee… I…I…," Christian stutters. He looks down and starts to fiddle with his shirt sleeves, pulling them longer. "I may have kinda invited Mike."
"Why, in the name of everything holy, would you do that?" I ask as I look down, fretting over the red tank top with three holes sliced across the front and the black leather miniskirt. It's one thing to look this way in front of Christian and tens of thousands of random strangers, but
Mike will never let me hear the end of it.
"He swears that he will be good, and he is excited about meeting some of the celebrities, and /he/ is even dressing up."
"Is he meeting us there?"
Christian walks over to the couch and plops down. He tugs again on the sleeves. They can't stretch any further. "No, he is meeting us here."
"Are you telling me that you gave Mr. Grabass my address? What were you thinking?"
He stops jerking on his clothes, and looks up at me. "You are totally over-reacting. Just calm down. He's not that bad."
My eyes roll like dice. Mike Fletcher is Christian's best guy friend who is nothing like him. More like his alter-ego. Where Christian is sweet, understanding, and everything a girl looks for in a best friend, Mike is a chauvinistic, egocentric, pig-headed jerk. They were fraternity brothers at UGA, home of the Bulldogs, and I've been stuck with him ever since. Lucky me.
The door bell rings, and I jump ten feet in the air. Just wonderful. I don't have time to tone down the outfit. I am stuck dressed like this with only a piece of wood separating me from my nemesis. I take a deep breath, and then open the door.
"Hey sexy lady, where's Felicity?" Mike says with a wink. I start to walk away, when he adds, "What's eating her? Wish it was…" I turn on my heels, and playfully punch him in the stomach before he can finish that thought.
"Dude, you said you would behave," Christian states.
"Man, that's before I knew she was going as Sexy Fee." He looks at me and tries to turn on the charm, softening his voice and flashing a smile. "Felicity, I am just kidding. I think it's cool you got all dressed up. You look really nice and very realistic. Can I lick your fangs?"
He almost had me believing that for a minute.
Oct 17, 2009
QUERY: HATSHEPSUT: FEMALE PHARAOH
Dear Agent,
The gods taunt those they love most. And they absolutely adore Hatshepsut.
When her father dies, Hatshepsut is forced to marry her hippo of a half-brother to secure his claim to the throne. She becomes the real power behind Egypt’s crown, but as a woman, remains relegated to the shadows of the Horus Throne. Thutmosis’s death can’t come soon enough.
Thutmosis dies three years into his reign and Hatshepsut becomes regent to her two-year-old stepson, launching Egypt into its golden age. Then she does the unthinkable. Amid foreign wars and a palace coup, Hatshepsut proclaims herself Pharaoh of Egypt. Tormented by her love of a commoner and cursed with personal tragedies, Hatshepsut will face a choice: family or eternal glory.
HATSHEPSUT: FEMALE PHARAOH is historical fiction complete at 90,000 words.
With the recent discovery of her mummy, Hatshepsut has been showcased in National Geographic, Smithsonian Magazine, and the Discovery Channel over the past three years. A history teacher, I have traveled to Egypt twice to better tell Hatshepsut’s story and am currently at work on my second novel set in ancient Egypt.
Thank you for your consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.
Best wishes,
The gods taunt those they love most. And they absolutely adore Hatshepsut.
When her father dies, Hatshepsut is forced to marry her hippo of a half-brother to secure his claim to the throne. She becomes the real power behind Egypt’s crown, but as a woman, remains relegated to the shadows of the Horus Throne. Thutmosis’s death can’t come soon enough.
Thutmosis dies three years into his reign and Hatshepsut becomes regent to her two-year-old stepson, launching Egypt into its golden age. Then she does the unthinkable. Amid foreign wars and a palace coup, Hatshepsut proclaims herself Pharaoh of Egypt. Tormented by her love of a commoner and cursed with personal tragedies, Hatshepsut will face a choice: family or eternal glory.
HATSHEPSUT: FEMALE PHARAOH is historical fiction complete at 90,000 words.
With the recent discovery of her mummy, Hatshepsut has been showcased in National Geographic, Smithsonian Magazine, and the Discovery Channel over the past three years. A history teacher, I have traveled to Egypt twice to better tell Hatshepsut’s story and am currently at work on my second novel set in ancient Egypt.
Thank you for your consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.
Best wishes,
Oct 16, 2009
Writing Contest- Watching Paint Dry
‘Tis the season for writing contests. Who am I to ignore the bandwagon? Apparently not one of the capable…So without further ado, I present to you The First Official Public Query Slushpile Writing Contest (TFOPQSWC, for your anagram junkies). Here’s the scoop:
Most of us are familiar with the old clichés about watching paint dry. Many would have you believe it’s the most boring thing in the world. Sure, from a visual perspective. But how about a written scene?
Who among you thinks you can write an interesting scene about watching paint dry? Who can go above interesting and make drying paint exciting? Mysterious? Funny? Scary?
Post your entries in the comments section of this post. Entries must be between 300 and 500 words. I will pick the top three finalists – based solely on my own convoluted sense of quality, humor, excitement, or whatever other qualifying criteria I make up at the time. I will post those finalists and you will vote for the winner. And the prize, other than bragging rights? On your deathbed, you shall receive total consciousness…
Deadline for submissions: 5pm EDT on Tuesday, October 20. Finalists will be posted on Wednesday, October 21 and voting will be open through 8am Friday, October 23.
Most of us are familiar with the old clichés about watching paint dry. Many would have you believe it’s the most boring thing in the world. Sure, from a visual perspective. But how about a written scene?
Who among you thinks you can write an interesting scene about watching paint dry? Who can go above interesting and make drying paint exciting? Mysterious? Funny? Scary?
Post your entries in the comments section of this post. Entries must be between 300 and 500 words. I will pick the top three finalists – based solely on my own convoluted sense of quality, humor, excitement, or whatever other qualifying criteria I make up at the time. I will post those finalists and you will vote for the winner. And the prize, other than bragging rights? On your deathbed, you shall receive total consciousness…
Deadline for submissions: 5pm EDT on Tuesday, October 20. Finalists will be posted on Wednesday, October 21 and voting will be open through 8am Friday, October 23.
Oct 15, 2009
Query: Butter and Margarine
Dear Agent,
Until Justin Reinhart walked into their dad’s insurance agency, Sunny Cumberledge lived a margarine existence, a life hardly worth spreading on weekday toast. Or so her sister always said; Rain never let someone’s feelings stand in the way of a good metaphor. Although Sunny can’t be entirely mad at her: if the always- impatient Rain hadn’t set up their first date, Justin might have taken his new policy rates and left without her number. But like always, Rain shoved Sunny headlong into her life and didn’t apologize for it. Why should she? Rain lives in a butter- pat world full of flavor and worth every calorie. Sunny’s the one living like a twenty- one year old grocery list, unremarkable, unmemorable.
Sunny never really understood her sister, a woman who didn’t seem to care that she was mostly loathed by her family. Before that December day in the office, Sunny had resigned herself to being the good daughter, the Cumberledge their father loved the most. Someone had to live practically; Rain stopped trying to be anything but fantastic eleven years ago. But Justin makes Sunny think she could be so much more. She starts to see herself as a potentially interesting person, a person worthy of remembering. She let herself be buried alive underneath eleven years worth of pleasing dirt. It’s finally time for Sunny to please herself, and in doing that, she might discover just what her sister has tried to show her for so long. Anyone can merely exist; only the fantastic can really live.
Butter and Margarine is an eighty- one thousand word novel in the women’s fiction genre. [Personal Information]. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Saison Williams
Until Justin Reinhart walked into their dad’s insurance agency, Sunny Cumberledge lived a margarine existence, a life hardly worth spreading on weekday toast. Or so her sister always said; Rain never let someone’s feelings stand in the way of a good metaphor. Although Sunny can’t be entirely mad at her: if the always- impatient Rain hadn’t set up their first date, Justin might have taken his new policy rates and left without her number. But like always, Rain shoved Sunny headlong into her life and didn’t apologize for it. Why should she? Rain lives in a butter- pat world full of flavor and worth every calorie. Sunny’s the one living like a twenty- one year old grocery list, unremarkable, unmemorable.
Sunny never really understood her sister, a woman who didn’t seem to care that she was mostly loathed by her family. Before that December day in the office, Sunny had resigned herself to being the good daughter, the Cumberledge their father loved the most. Someone had to live practically; Rain stopped trying to be anything but fantastic eleven years ago. But Justin makes Sunny think she could be so much more. She starts to see herself as a potentially interesting person, a person worthy of remembering. She let herself be buried alive underneath eleven years worth of pleasing dirt. It’s finally time for Sunny to please herself, and in doing that, she might discover just what her sister has tried to show her for so long. Anyone can merely exist; only the fantastic can really live.
Butter and Margarine is an eighty- one thousand word novel in the women’s fiction genre. [Personal Information]. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Saison Williams
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)