September Secret Agent #3

TITLE: AWAKEN
GENRE: Young Adult Fairytale Retelling

If she touched the volume one more time, she’d pull back a bloody nub. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her little fingers inch towards the dial.

“Casey!” I snarled.

“But I love this song!” Casey said in that whiney, nasal tone all ten-year-olds used when they wanted their way. But I wasn’t giving in.

“Seriously kid! I have a headache. Could you please behave until we get home?” I cringed. I sounded just like mom.

She slumped back in the seat, crossed her arms over her chest, and thrust out her bottom lip. “You sound just like mom.”

“Yeah, well you are acting like a spoiled little brat.” When I got my license, my adventures sans parents were supposed to be filled with hanging out with my friends and cute guys. Not chauffeuring my annoying little sister to and from ballet practice.

“I’m telling mom you called me a brat.”

“Whatever.” I leaned forward and turned the volume all the way down. The pounding in my head eased as the bass dulled.

My head shot up at the stomach-wrenching sound of tires squealing across asphalt. The blinding white light from a pair of headlights barreled towards us. Dirt and rocks flew up like a rooster tail on both sides of the truck as it launched over the median.

September Secret Agent #2

TITLE: Liza Bird
GENRE: Contemporary Middle Grade Fiction

The words on the page looked like alphabet soup. I tried to read the schedule, I really did. Sure, I picked out a few words like I always do, but I couldn’t make any sense of how they fit together. I tried squinting. I rubbed my eyes. And I concentrated super-extra hard. Still, my brain could not arrange those words into anything readable.

Everyone else started talking about how great middle school would be long before my seat in elementary school was even cold. Rolling in the poison ivy in my back yard was more appealing than having to find my way around a big, unfamiliar school. Or having to figure out how to get by undetected all over again. Seemed to me the only good thing about it was that I got to sign up for art. And I’d get to go every day instead of just once a week like in elementary school. Unless, of course, I screwed things up again and my parents pulled me from the class to put me in study hall.

Beside me, the office door swung open and closed. Other kids walked in and out like they knew what they were doing. I watched them scan their own schedules, walk down the hallway, and disappear into classrooms. So I tried again. But I only got past, “Liza Dawson – Grade 6, Milton Middle School” before the words and numbers were a jumbled up mess again.

September Secret Agent #1

TITLE: Reborn
GENRE: YA fantasy

The end of Lily’s world started with a pursuit of knowledge.

Sneaking into her mother’s bedroom wore her nerves to their breaking point. Her heart hammered in her chest and her hands shook as she neared the dresser. Quickly glancing over her shoulder reassured her that she was alone. She grabbed the photo frame, but her fingers, slick with sweat, lost their grip, and it plummeted to the ground. For a moment, she stared at its descent, her dreams shattering under the sudden roar filling her ears. Then she dove and caught the glass, reveling in the cold press of the metal casing against her hands.The world righted again while she waited for her hummingbird’s pulse to slow.

A soft rustle broke through her trance. Jerking to her feet, frame in hand, Lily hid behind the door. Darkness cloaked the hallway, but she couldn’t spot her mother. She ran back to her room and closed the door right as her knees gave way. Relief crashed into her in waves, coaxing a goofy grin to her face. She gazed at her prize until a voice startled her.

“Lily?”

As usual, her mother sounded exhausted. If Lily opened the door, her mother’s forced smile would highlight the deep circles beneath her eyes. Eyes which would also flash the moment she noticed that Lily had stolen her wedding photo.

Staying on top of things...

The blog schedule is crammed full around here, so I want to stay on top of things on a regular basis.  (Also, I considered writing this post in Pirate, but I'm not fluent enough.  So a quick "Happy Speak-like-a-pirate Day" will have to do.)

1.  September Secret Agent submissions TODAY.
2.  Next week:  Our first logline critique round (September 27).  (Note:  I'll be talking about loglines this week, making sure we're all on the same page with what's required.)
3.  We're 4 weeks away from the first Baker's Dozen submission window (October 18).

Also, a clarification on the contest fee:

The $8 entry fee is being charged to everyone who enters the contest.  The behind-the-scenes administrative work this contest entails is...well, gargantuan.  Also, a percentage of the fee is going to Michael Extraordinaire, who has done literally thousands of dollars of work developing and perfecting our submission bot--for free.

Yeah.  The guy has given me--has given all of us, really--a huge, non-repayable gift.  So a percentage of the fee is earmarked for him.  And it won't begin to scratch the surface of what he really deserves.

In addition, you may not realize that I pay a monthly hosting fee to Michael's company.  It's not a huge amount, but it's an automated payment that comes out of my business account each month whether the money's in there or not.  (Um, yeah.  Overdrafted once this year.)  So covering the cost of the hosting fee for the coming year in one fell swoop would take some pressure off, for sure.

And, yeah, I'm going to be donating a stack of YA/MG books to my local library, which is strangely bereft of any new releases in these genres.  More on this later.

Oh, and how could I forget? I'm close to finalizing the agent list and will be posting it SOON! I'll also be announcing our guest editors (one for adult and one for YA/MG) and guest authors (one for adult and one for YA/MG), who will be critiquing the 60 winning entries.

All this, and I'm off coffee.  (I mean, can you believe it?)  It was time to de-caffeinate my life.  So far, so good.  The headaches were mild and only lasted two days.

(Yes, I'm rolling my eyes at myself.)

*twitch*

Friday Fricassee

Something cool happened yesterday.  I was reading/critiquing an early-draft manuscript for someone who had waited patiently for me to do so while I finished my revisions.

And I cried.

Here's the thing:  BOOKS DON'T MAKE ME CRY.  I know that sounds ludicrous, but it's true.  Movies make me cry.  Heck, Beauty and the Beast makes me cry every time.  (Every. Time.)  But books?  Not so much.

Yet here I was, reading a draft that, to be honest, needs a LOT of work (Well, don't all early drafts?), and suddenly my eyes teared up.

And I cried.

That says something, right?  Regardless of the work this piece needs, there is Something There.  Because I didn't only cry--I read through lightning-fast because I WANTED TO.

Let's be honest.  Works under critique aren't usually page-turners.  We're busy making in-line notes and puzzling over plot points that aren't quite working.  But this manuscript (and I have to keep emphasizing that it has a lot of problems!) made me want to keep reading.  Even when I'd say to myself, "Okay, one chapter before I start my day," it would end up three chapters.

Is that exciting or what?

So I'm thinking, maybe I'm finally developing an eye for stories that work.  This is the first time I've read a rough manuscript and was able to see the potential as clearly as though I had a final draft in my hands.  And it's a heady feeling!

I think this author is going to make it happen, too.  She's got the guts and tenacity and chutzpah to DO this thing.  And...well, it's exciting.

So that's me, glowing over an amazing critique experience.  What about you?  Do you know a diamond-in-the-rough when you see it?  Have you ever cried over someone's early draft?

Ain't the writerly life grand?