Monday, September 29, 2014

We Have Winners!

Without any ado, Ms. Jeglinski's winners:


THE COUNTLESS THREADS OF RAE JULY wins a request for the first chapter!


BREAKFAST WITH NERUDA wins a request for the first 50 pages!

First place: #1 THE ONLY WAY TO CHANGE

THE ONLY WAY TO CHANGE wins a full request!

Congratulations, winners! Please e-mail me at kvandolzer(at)gmail(dot)com for details on how to submit your materials to Ms. Jeglinski.

Last but certainly not least, a huge thank-you to Ms. Jeglinski for judging this month's round and a huge thank-you to YOU for entering, reading, and commenting. You really are the ones who make these contests work.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

"An Agent's Inbox" Is Live!

And we're off! Check out the entries, then leave some feedback in the comments if you feel so inclined. (ENTRANTS, PLEASE REMEMBER TO CRITIQUE AT LEAST THREE OTHER ENTRIES!) And I'm sure this goes without saying, but please keep your comments constructive (i.e., not rude or mean-spirited). If you want to think like The Agent, you might consider the question, "How much of the entry did you read, and if you didn't read it all, why did you stop?"

I'll announce Ms. Jeglinski's winners and prizes at the beginning of next week, but until then, have at it!

(Also, just so you're aware, I always take out profanity when I'm formatting the entries. In other words, any asterisks you see in the entries are mine, so you don't need to point them out to the entrants. I just prefer to keep things as PG-rated as possible on the blog.

Last but not least, entrants, if you find a Krista-generated error in your post, feel free to shoot me an e-mail, and I'll correct it straightaway.)

An Agent's Inbox #20

Dear Melissa:

Lis Fairchild is excited to meet her sister’s boyfriend, right up until she recognizes him as the random stranger she hooked up with the last time she was home. When Lis tells her sister what happened, she locks herself in her room and refuses to speak to Lis. 

To assuage her guilt, Lis joins The Hallowell Agency, a group of women devoted to exposing cheating husbands and boyfriends. She might have broken her sister’s heart, but at least she can help make sure no other girl has to feel that way. 

She is assigned to investigate Will Stratford, who looks exactly like a young Captain Kirk--on whom Lis has had a crush since her dad introduced her to Star Trek at thirteen. Lis falls hard for Will, but if he responds to her advances…then he’s the kind of guy she can’t fall for.

Lis is ready to leave the Agency and its deceptions behind, until they take on a new client: Lis’s mom. Lis can’t believe that her geeky dad would get his Kling-on with another woman. It’s up to her to find the truth and keep her family together.

BOLDLY GO is a 70,000 word work of Women’s Fiction. Lis volunteers at a vet clinic, which I think will appeal to your love of animals (although I will admit Lis is more of a “dog person”).

Thank you for your consideration, and for participating in An Agent’s Inbox.



It was Nick's fault, really. If he hadn't broken up with me, then lied about leaving Fort Collins, I wouldn't have driven home to Laramie. I wouldn't have missed a shift at work and gotten fired. And then I wouldn't have tried to cheer myself up by going to the second dirtiest bar in Laramie and hooking up with the first guy who showed any interest. Which was how I met Wyatt the first time.

The second time I met Wyatt, he was late for dinner.

Mom and Dad were both glaring at Adele. I felt bad for my little sister, withering under their combined stares, so I tried to help her out by lightening the mood.

"There's a guy in my Biochem class who looks just like a young William Shatner."

They completely ignored me, even Mom, who had been harping on me to get over Nick ever since the "incident" in July. But instead of asking whether I knew his name (I didn't), they started in on Adele.

"Did you tell your boyfriend that we'd be eating dinner promptly at six?" Dad asked. Adele nodded meekly.

"Did he tell you he was going to be late?" Mom that time. Adele shook her head.

I pulled my phone out from its hiding place under my leg. Mom is very strict about not having our phones at the dinner table, but she was too preoccupied with Adele's boyfriend being ten minutes late to notice me checking my e-mail.    

An Agent's Inbox #19

Ms. Jeglinski,

Since historical romance is on your #MSWL, I thought you might be a good fit for my novel. THE SAPPHIRE LEGACY is a 75,000-word historical romance set in Victorian England.

Mae Blackthorne has been taught how to ride dressage, embroider pillows and dance the waltz. So when her brother’s death puts the family’s shipbuilding business in her hands, it isn’t long before the business is in bankruptcy and Mae is penniless. Forced to take a post as governess, Mae thinks she’s doomed to a life of poverty. That is, until she meets Ethan Locke, a pirate who offers her an enticing opportunity to recover her wealth.

Unbeknownst to Mae, her family had been using their shipbuilding business to shroud generations of successful piracy. Locke, who was once partners with her father, has an old score to settle. He claims that her father stole from him an object of great value: a sapphire that can give its owner eternal life. As her father’s last surviving heir, Mae is Locke’s only hope of finding it along with her family’s secret fortune.

Agreeing to work together and split the fortune amongst themselves, there’s no denying the spark of attraction between them. But they’re not alone in their search. The true owners of the sapphire, who operate an elite secret society, are far more powerful than Mae and Locke could’ve ever imagined. And as the dangerous men close in, Mae fears she has much more to lose than just a second chance at luxury. She could lose any chance she has for love, or life.

THE SAPPHIRE LEGACY has similarities to Amanda Quick’s successful Arcane Society novels.

My query and the first 250 words have been featured in both the "Sun Versus Snow" and "Writer's Voice" query contests. With a degree in journalism, I have written for various publications including the St. Louis Post-Dispatch and Session Daily, a news service provided by the Minnesota House of Representatives. As an undergraduate, I also received an award for writing about women’s issues.

The first 250 words are below.

Thank you for your consideration.



May 1836, somewhere on the Atlantic

Ethan Locke tightened his grip on two leather bound books, ready to run. The distant high pitch screech of a whistle signaled departure. He had only a few minutes to make it back to ship so he and his crew could set sail.

But he couldn’t go. Not just yet. Mixed in with the mahogany furnishings of the captain’s quarters, he caught a flash of gold. Behind red velvet curtains swaying with the ship, a small gold chest fell in and out of view. It was hidden for a reason. Without a doubt whatever was inside would be valuable indeed.

Of course he couldn’t leave now. Greed beckoned him. Disregarding his need for haste, he inched his way to the chest, pulled back the curtain and lifted its unsecured lid.

Disappointment dropped through him. Without a lock, it might not have been valuable after all. But as soon as his eyes met the contents, his breath caught. The books he had been so grateful to find thudded to the floor.

Two items were suspended in black velvet. The first he noticed was a small blue bottle strangely attached to a silver chain. That didn’t seem worth much. But the other item, also on a silver chain, was a sapphire and blue like the deepest ocean. As if in a kind of protection, it was wrapped in swirling silver filigree. Though the lamps in the cabin had gone dim, it sparkled nonetheless. Deep within, a dazzling fire blazed.

An Agent's Inbox #18

Dear Melissa, 

Twelve year old JADEN has a lot to live up to. His father is Sudner’s greatest hero. He wants to be the warrior everyone is expecting, but Jaden prefers books to battles. When he hid in a tree as his father was captured by the fierce race of WARGAULS, his feeling of failure was compounded. Jaden sets off on a quest to redeem himself and rescue his father.

In the midst of being stuck traveling with the bully from battle school, as well as fighting off a sea monster and sorceress, Jaden discovers an even harder assignment is placed on his shoulders. He’s been called by the leaders of a hidden kingdom to become the Guardian of Sudner.  To do so, he’ll not only have to learn old magic, but somehow find the courage to defeat the Wargauls in a battle for the survival of Sudner.

THE GUARDIAN OF SUDNER is an uplifting middle grade fantasy adventure that will be appealing to reluctant readers because of its fast pace and an extended story arc for a series. Something I feel sets it apart from current fantasy is the father/son relationship theme. Throughout the story, three boys are dealing with their feelings of living up to what their fathers expect.  

I’ve enclosed the first chapter for you to consider. The entire manuscript is available upon request. It runs about 57,000 words in length.

Though this is my first novel, I have previously written for Meridian Magazine, Latter-day Homeschooling, Women’s Day, The Boer Goat, Brio, and Cleaner Times.  

Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you soon.



Jaden Andreist put off leaving for as long as possible, but no sudden illness had overtaken him.  It was time for battle class. Reluctantly, he put his elements book away and made his way out the castle doors.

He’d been practicing for months with Klevi, one of the top battle students, in exchange for tutoring him in runes.  A week ago he felt confident. He’d been sparring better than ever. He’d even won two of their duels. But today was different. Today was Jaden’s turn in the sparring circle.

The other boys in class loved sparring. It was the best part of turning twelve. No longer were they trapped doing nothing but endless boring drills in battle training. Now they got to show off their skill going head to head in real duels, even if they were using dummy swords. For the other boys it was a dream come true. For Jaden, it felt more like a nightmare. He preferred books to battles. If you made a mistake with a book, no one died.

“Jaden, wait up!”

He turned around and saw his friend Brandon running, his wavy brown hair bouncing. Jaden laughed and looked to see if any girls were around. If they were, they’d probably be sighing. The girls loved Brandon--and his hair.

“I thought I was the last one to head to battle training,” Jaden said when Brandon caught up.

“I wish. I was trapped getting lectured by my father about not taking school seriously enough.”

An Agent's Inbox #17

Dear Melissa Jeglinski,

I am looking for representation for a fantasy series of which I am working on the second volume. Angelhaven is a follow on series from The Green Woman which I finished self-publishing this summer after retrieving my rights from Musa Publishing. Angelhaven (70,000 words) picks up the stories of the main characters of The Green Woman three years into their utopian dream. Which is beginning to turn just a little sour.

This is a YA/crossover series. There is no ‘adult’ content, gratuitous gore or sex, so although the main characters are in their late teens/early twenties, the story is completely accessible to teenage readers. It is a story of a utopia, a place where myth and fantasy play a part, and a love story for some of the characters, who still have to find themselves in a new world where the old laws of brute force and obedience no longer hold sway.

After the grim dystopia of Providence, the people liberated from the tyranny of the Elders have begun to build a new life in the Garden. The magic that created the Garden is fading as they take their destinies in hand. But a wind of change is blowing through the idyll. Two winds. A strange, soft wind from out the west brings a hint of summer to the end of the hard winter, and the whispered promise of better things to come from an unknown golden man. At the same time, a black wind howls down from the barbarian fort in the mountain pass promising bloodshed and death.

The love that built Angelhaven is faltering and the wild Scyldings will wield the axe that puts it to the test.

You can see The Green Woman books and read a short bio on my Amazon author page here:


As well as Angelhaven I am also querying a YA apocalyptic (not post-apocalyptic) two part story set in a crumbling shopping mall at the end of the world.

Thank you for accepting to read my submission.




Scyld stood on the edge of the rocky outcrop and looked down from the mountain, over the treetops and the river Wildbach. He held a hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare of the sun. In the other hand he held an axe, its head resting on the ground at his feet. He noted the plumes of white smoke that the breeze caught and dispersed, and he scowled.

The wind veered briefly round to the west bringing with it the spring smells of damp earth and pinewoods. Scyld wrinkled his nose. He could not quite smell the fires in the hearths, the cattle in the pastures, the food cooking and the thousand other smells that meant settlement. But he knew it was there. Beyond the river Wildbach, beyond the forest of beech and oak it was there, the outlanders’ village.

The man frowned, drawing shaggy brows together. His fingers tightened around the haft of the axe, not in fear but in anger. Scyld was not the chief of his people for nothing. He knew where the outlanders came from, knew what it meant. While the Scyldings had fought to survive the terror unleashed by the furious gods, famine, cold, and man-eating demons spawned by the endless night, others had had an easier time. The völva who sent him blood dreams and war visions had shown him.

In his dreams he had crossed the Wildbach, crossed the mountains beyond, to the Great River and the desolation of its further bank. He had seen the strange fort, the dome of steel and crystal that protected the lucky ones from the death and destruction around them. And now they had emerged. Like butterflies.

An Agent's Inbox #16

Greetings Melissa Jeglinski,

The Knight Agency has a great reputation. When I discovered you were up for the September Agent Inbox, I jumped at the chance to introduce for consideration of representation my 72,000-word-count YA dystopian, DEAD GIRL RUNNING.

Eighteen-year-old SILVIA WOOD has never heard of an unplanned pregnancy. Because of the New Order, there is no more war. Rape and domestic violence have been eliminated. Unemployment is at zero percent. The cameras of Panopticus keep the citizens safe…and obedient.

Eight years ago, Silvia's father died in an industrial accident. After suffering through years of Psychotherapy Services and Mandated Medications for depression and multiple suicide attempts, she longs to work in Botanical Sciences. When the Occupation Exam determines she must work in Mortuary Sciences instead, she wonders if the New Order assigned her to the morgue to push her over the edge.

To appease her disappointed mother, the once famous violinist YOSHE WOOD, Silvia enters the Race for Citizen Glory, in an attempt to stand out in the crowd of Equals. After she begins training with "golden boy" LIAM HARMAN, she discovers he also lost his father in the same accident that ruined Silvia's life. When Silvia meets and falls for FRANCO HARMAN, Liam's older cousin, his paranoid intensity makes her question what really happened to her father. As the race nears, Silvia realizes that she's not only running for glory, she's running for her life.

DEAD GIRL RUNNING is a cross between THE GIVER, THE HANDMAIDEN'S TALE, and Agenda 21.

My first novel, How to Date Dead Guys, (a New Adult Urban Fantasy) was published in July 2014 by Curiosity Quills. I've learned so much this past year about making important connections and promoting myself as a professional writer. Now I'd like an agent's guidance to take my career to the next level. Besides writing fiction, I’ve penned articles for the Post Bulletin newspaper (for my Pet Vet column), RunMinnesota magazine, the DVM360 journal, and The Wagazine.

Per your instructions, the first 250 words are included below.

I look forward to hearing from you,



My tenth birthday was the worst day of my life. Dad had to work late, because his replacement didn't show up on time. Mom and I waited for him to come home.

Eight years later, we're still waiting.

Most kids would've requested a Vacation Pass for their eighteenth birthday, but not me. I'd rather forget the whole thing and help Gus prepare the chilled bodies in the hospital mortuary. I drag myself out of bed and pull on teal scrubs.

I fumble for socks and shoes, and a ray of early sunlight glints off my dad's picture hanging on the wall across the room. Once again, his blue eyes capture mine, as if he needs to tell me something important. On the floor beneath the photo sits a memory trunk full of how things used to be. But I won't open it today. I just can't.

Dishes clink in the kitchen. Mom calls out, "Hurry up, Silvia. I've got a surprise for you."

She sounds happy, but I can't tell if it's real. Since Dad's death, both of us have done a lot of pretending. So far this year we've been able to avoid Psychotherapy Services and Mandated Medications, but sometimes I wonder if I was sent down to Mortuary Sciences to push me over the edge. Fortunately, I find autopsies intriguing, not depressing. And since I never got to see Dad's body after the accident, caring for other people's dead soothes the empty ache inside.

An Agent's Inbox #15

Dear Ms. Jeglinski, 
I am writing to seek representation for my novel BY A CHARM AN  A CURSE. Complete at 65,000 words, it's a standalone Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy told from two points of view.   

A walking, talking bundle of low self-esteem, seventeen-year-old Emma is seduced by the boy in a carnival fortune-telling booth, and kisses him. But with the kiss comes a curse, and immediately Emma’s skin petrifies until all she can feel is a brutal cold. The next day, deprived of her family and friends, she learns that the only way she can free herself is by passing on the curse to another rube. 
Thanks to the charm protecting LeGrand’s Carnival Fantastic, apprentice carpenter Alan is preternaturally lucky. He has never experienced any hardship, much less heartbreak. When the new girl shows up, he desperately wants to help her, but doing so means putting himself at risk of being the next recipient of the curse. 
Alan and Emma are convinced they’ve found a solution--break the curse.  But when the charm begins to weaken as a result, endangering everyone who calls LeGrand’s home, they have to decide if the cost of their own freedom is worth the destruction of the carnival.  

I am a graphic designer for the University of Houston’s College of Education. I live in the suburbs of Houston with my husband, two kids, and neurotic dogs. I have a weakness for makeup, nice paper, and good chocolate. 



Jules can’t sing for s***.  But there she is, howling a painfully off-key song to the boy in the box, making a fool of herself.  It’s cringe-worthy, but then, most of the things that Jules does are mortifying, so this is really just par for the course.

“Jules!” I have to yell to be heard over screaming children and the rush of the roller coaster running on questionably assembled tracks nearby.  I tighten my coat, a small measure in a losing battle against the cold.  “Leave the guy alone, he’s just doing his job.

And it’s a lame-a** job at that.  The carnival has set up a wood and glass booth to look like one of those old automated fortunetellers.  The bottom half is ornately carved wood painted a fiery red that almost glows, and the panels of glass making up the top half are covered in swirling gold paint proclaiming Futures seen!  Fortunes told!  Small bulbous lights line the ceiling of the booth, filling it with a warm light, but it doesn’t hide the fact that the paint is chipping and the glass is covered in sticky, child-sized fingerprints.

Inside, the poor schmuck in question stands at attention, arms held out in awkward angles like he’s going to start doing the robot at any minute.  His face is painted white, with rosy red circles dotting his cheeks and dark powder shaping his eyebrows into wry arches.  His glossy, plastic-y black hair has been styled into a slick wave that makes me think of a 1920s soda jerk.  He’s seriously cute.  But I’m here with Jules, so I don’t stand a chance.

An Agent's Inbox #14


An Agent's Inbox #13

Dear Ms. Jeglinski:

When seventeen-year-old Nadari Clarke is blinded, her Damage is the second reason her society wants her dead. The first reason she kept secret, with the help of her father, for ten years. She is a violinist.

With her father's influence, she escapes death and is instead sent to a place that holds hundreds of people, all Damaged. She soon learns they are all phenomenal artists as well. Musicians, artists and designers, whose televised executions were mandatory viewing, practice their art freely. In fact, the government commissions their art as propaganda to keep the rest of the citizens in line.

Nadari must relearn even simple things, like how to walk and how to eat, but not how to play the violin. She's the virtuoso she's always been, and those in charge want her music. So do a group of revolutionaries, who are busy making propaganda of their own. They want to prove to citizens that the Damaged aren't all dead, and neither is art. Solomon, a deaf painter and Nadari's only friend, tells her the revolutionaries are trouble and she should avoid them.

Then news reaches them that Nadari's father has gone missing, and the revolutionaries are more enraged than she is. Every step toward finding out why takes her deeper into a conspiracy that seems more likely with every revelation. But accepting it means accepting her father as a man she never really knew. And if he really is wanted by the government, going back home to find him makes reason number three she should be dead.

DAMAGED is a YA light dystopian complete at 78,000 words. It should appeal to those who enjoy the themes and writing of Gathering Blue and the grit and sense of place of Makiia Lucier’s A Death-Struck Year. I have a Bachelor’s degree in English and work as a technical editor. Per your guidelines, the first 250 words are pasted below.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



I am a criminal. It’s been ten years and I’ve never been caught, but every televised shooting reminds me the inevitable is just a bullet away. There was another one at midnight. They’re always at midnight and always at full volume. Muting the television doesn’t help. It’s impossible to sleep through them. Hours after the blast, I’m still shaken.

Thirteen, my favorite Blue, slips into my bedroom to clean. She does her job and I don’t do mine, staying perched on the edge of my bed, half-watching as she picks up my laundry. She runs a hand along her shaved head. “You okay?”

She practically raised me. I don’t acknowledge her.

When she leaves, my father, Aba, appears at the door. “Nadari? Are you ready yet?” He intrudes when I don’t answer. “Not even dressed?”

I glance at my closet. The Blues organize my clothes onto wooden hangers, shirts ironed, jeans folded evenly. To the far right are dresses I never wear. They block the tiny entrance to a room only my father and I know about. Inside is my violin. I think about the woman whose execution still rings in my ears. Hers was a flute. Close enough.

Aba follows my stare. “The police don’t go digging around Lair Hill,” he says. “They don’t think we commit those kinds of crimes.”

He’s kept me safe from suspicion for ten years. I should trust him.

I don’t.

An Agent's Inbox #12

Dear Melissa,

Jack Straw’s father is dying.

It’s the summer of his 14th year, when Jack and his father discover a body in Mespat Cove. The body is a time bomb, a wellspring of death waiting to be unleashed upon the world. It carries an incurable virus, which quickly sends Jack’s dad into a coma. If that wasn’t bad enough, the sheriff then accuses Jack’s dad of murder, as the body was that of an old enemy.

It’s rumored the victim had been living next to the water in an old van, which meant he would have been exposed to the virus at dangerous levels. Determined to prove his father’s innocence, Jack returns to Mespat Cove with his buddy Joe. While searching the van for evidence of habitation, they get into a confrontation with the dead man’s son. They end up in the water, where they’re sucked into a whirlpool. After a near-death experience, they find themselves on the treeless world of Galanthia.

There, Jack learns, is the cure that will save his father’s life. It lies within the mist-enshrouded valley of Okenwode, as does the promise of trees for a dying world. But according to Marko--Galanthia’s wizened but sagacious leader--no Galanthian has ever set foot within its borders. A man named Belas has seen to that, a fallen Druid h***-bent on keeping the valley’s treasures out of reach to all. Long before Jack’s arrival, he surrounded Okenwode with Red Widow spiders the size of men, rendering it impenetrable.

There is only one way to breach the Red Widows. Jack must decipher a key left for him by Fengilly, a mysterious figure now long gone. Fengilly predicted Jack’s arrival, and claimed the key was meant for him and him alone, that only he could solve it.

Who was Fengilly? Can Jack believe the legend that surrounds him, or is it all nothing more than a fanciful tale, as many Galanthians believe? It seems Jack has little choice. The cure that can save his father’s life lies within Okenwode. To reach it, Jack must decipher Fengilly’s key and put it to the use for which it was intended. If he fails, his father will die.

The Key to Okenwode is a YA fantasy complete at 114,000 words. I believe it will appeal to fans of The Ranger’s Apprentice series by John Flanagan, and Not a Drop to Drink (a wonderful book!) by Mindy McGinnis.

I’ve won several awards in the annual Boise Weekly Fiction 101 contest, ranging from first place to honorable mention. I’ve led several writers’ groups, and have studied under award-winning author Alan Heathcock and Bram Stoker nominee David Oppegaard.

Thank you for your time and consideration,


Jack Straw never thought of himself as lucky. For one thing, he’d been born with a birthmark on his chest in the most unfortunate of shapes--that of a heart. His mother told him it was a sign that he’d been blessed, but Jack knew better. It was a curse, pure and simple--the curse of the unlucky, which was the worst curse of them all. A line ran up through the birthmark at a forty-five degree angle, exiting the top of the heart and ending in a triangular point just below his collarbone.

It was no wonder, then, that they called him Cupid. The first time he heard that word was at the Dooley Lake municipal pool. He had removed his shirt, baring his skinny four-year-old chest for all the world to see, along with the birthmark like a vivid purple stain. Someone called him Cupid, which quickly turned into Stupid Cupid, a nickname that stuck. Whenever his mother was out of earshot, the other children would chant those two little words in that sing-songy, thoughtless manner particular to cruel children throughout history.

One day his mom bought him a cherry sno-cone at the concession stand. It was a typical summer afternoon. The blue water dazzled in the sun. The clean scent of chlorine hung in the air, along with the high, bright sounds of children splashing and playing. He was wandering along near the kiddie pool, slurping away when an older boy grabbed the sno-cone from his hand.

An Agent's Inbox #11

Dear Melissa,

“I will always hate IT!” Ali, age twelve, protests angrily when she learns that she will be getting a sibling. She is happy as an only child, and likes her three-person family the way it is. This news, received on the heels of a rejection from her beloved ballet school is more than she can take. On top of all that, her friends abandon her for summer camp while she is stuck babysitting her neighbor’s kid, and Ali is dreading the summer before it even starts.

But, when Ali discovers her mother's diary written when her mother was the same age, her world is rocked and becomes her focus. Ali immerses herself in the parallels and differences of her life vs. the snapshot of her mom’s life from the diary and uncovers more about herself and her family than she bargained for, including a horrible tragedy that she knew nothing about.

Complete at 22,000 words, The Diary of Lois Lane tells the story of pivotal periods in both Ali’s and her mother’s life as they struggle to come-of-age during different decades. This middle grade novel might appeal to the readers of Judy Blume’s realistic fiction books, such as Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret and recently, Lindsey Leavitt’s Going Vintage.

I am seeking an agent who shares my interest in helping children touched by loss to understand that life can be complicated, with sometimes unforeseeable highs and lows.

I won a short story writing contest on and was published in a monthly parenting magazine, Parentguide News. I am also a member of SCBWI.

I look forward to hearing from you.



Saturday, 8/2/1980, 9:30pm

Dear Diary,

It was so hot today--over 91. Like everyday this summer, Mom and I went to the beach. The weatherman called it the 3 H’s--hazy, hot and humid, and all you could do was sit in the water. I'm so waterlogged that the tips of my fingers are still pruny. The air didn't move at all, and despite what Mom says, there’s not always a breeze at the ocean. Anyway, I think I like the lockerboy with the green eyes that crinkle when he smiles. He asked me today if I’m enjoying the summer. I bet he thinks that I’m older than I am, like maybe 16 or 17. A lot of people at the beach assume that I’m older.

I wish that my friends were around. I think that I'm the only Jewish kid on Long Island who doesn't go to sleepaway camp. The beach is okay, but I wish I could go to camp instead. Where else will I ever kiss a boy? Last summer, all my friends came home gushing about boys. The raids when the boys and girls secretly get together at night sound weird, but fun. Mom says sleepaway is too expensive. I think that she just wants me around. Grrrr...
Lois Lane

Ali slammed the leather diary shut. Her mom was talking about kissing BOYS! Who is Lois Lane? Her mom’s name is Lois, but Lane wasn’t her last name--it was Berman.

An Agent's Inbox #10

Dear Ms. Jeglinski:

I am contacting you because in an interview in Women on Writing, you said you are looking for something fresh with a great voice. In Breakfast With Neruda, eighteen-year-old Michael Flynn of Rooster, Ohio, is spending his summer cleaning up the high school--his community service sentence after being expelled near the end of his senior year for hiding explosives in his locker. He had planned to blow up his now ex-best friend’s car, but that plan backfired, costing him a friendship, a girlfriend, and his high school graduation. But these are the least of his problems.

Only Michael’s immediate family knows he lives in a 1982 Ford LTD station wagon he calls the Blue Whale. That is until Shelly Miller, a mysterious girl also working off community service, catches him sleeping in the Whale on school property one morning.

One of Michael’s secrets is he chooses to live in his car rather than with the uncontrollable filth inside his mother’s home. Michael’s half-brother Jeff has already moved out, and his half-sister Annie now lives on the back porch.  Michael fears Children’s Services will find out and place Annie in foster care, making his mother’s already tenuous grasp with reality more precarious.
Michael’s other problem is he has no idea who his real father is, and his mother won’t tell him.  With Shelly’s help, Michael discovers answers to the riddles in his life.

Breakfast With Neruda is contemporary YA of approximately 72,000 words, and the novel will appeal to fans of John Green, Laurie Halse Anderson, Maureen Johnson and David Levithan.  If you imagine a twenty-first century Huck Finn meeting a hard edged Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice, you get a sense of the dynamic between Michael and Shelly.

I have more than twenty years as a high school teacher/librarian and have had poetry and prose published in anthologies and journals including Mischief, Caprice and Other Poetic Devices5AMThe Cleveland Plain DealerThe Book Report, andWomen’s Words, and hold an MFA from Goucher College in Creative Nonfiction. Over the years I’ve honed my speaking skills by presenting at educational conferences and poetry readings, and I’ve done standup comedy, so having a platform which includes public appearances does not scare me. Working with high school kids requires bravery, a sense of humor and flexibility.

I hope you enjoy the first page of Breakfast With Neruda and I look forward to hearing from you soon.



Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly.”
Pablo Neruda

The hallway is dark, and looks abandoned except for the clanging of metal against tile. Earl, the head custodian, fills a giant bucket near the janitor’s closet. He looks up at me, nods, and keeps filling the pail.

“How come it’s so dark in here?” I ask.

“We all look better in the dark,” Earl says. He laughs and reveals a gold front tooth. He’s a raggedy guy of about sixty who always has a cud of tobacco in his mouth. “Power’s still out from the storm.”

“Oh yeah,” I say, nodding, pretending to know anything about the power outage. It had stormed as if the apocalypse arrived last night. I hold out my hand. "Michael Flynn, reporting for duty."

"I know who you are.” Earl shuts off the hose and looks me over. "Listen, kid, I know what you did to get stuck here all summer, and I don't put up with any crap," he says. "We clear on that?"

"Yes, sir," I respond.

He wheels the bucket into the hallway and I follow. “First thing you’re gonna do is start cleaning out the lockers.” He snorts. “Kind of ironic for you.” My face reddens, and Earl gestures to the end of the hallway. “Start at that end and work your way back. Take a big trash can with you.”

An Agent's Inbox #9

Dear Ms. Jeglinski,

Six years ago, Georgia Bowen started seeing the future instead of her reflection.

Five years ago, she vowed never to look again.

Four days ago, that promise was broken.

Now, she’s being hunted.

Focused on her summer job and matchmaking for her best friend, eighteen-year-old Georgia doesn’t know she’s almost out of time. The Guardians of Righteousness, a cult-turned-criminal-enterprise, wants to use her to build their empire. Before they can find her, however, Georgia is kidnapped by Galen, a day laborer on the farm where she works. Georgia hasn’t known Galen for very long, but she knows what he can do--knock her unconscious from twenty feet away--should be impossible. She soon learns something else: Galen isn’t really her co-worker. He’s an emissary, part of a resistance group that escaped the Guardians years ago and wants to harness Georgia’s ability in their fight.

While Georgia is grateful to be saved from the Guardians, she’s no damsel in distress…and she has no intention of becoming a pawn in someone else’s war. Spurred by the knowledge that her parents are the Guardian’s captives and that the resistance is doing nothing to help them, Georgia resolves to escape both Galen and her Guardian pursuers. But when she discovers a cryptic verse that might connect her grandparents--and possibly her Aztec heritage--to the resistance, Georgia must make a choice: escape in time to protect her parents, or join the fight against the organization that threatens them all.

Looking Glass Darkly is a 82,000 word YA fantasy set in the rural South. I hope it will appeal to fans of Bethany Wiggins’ Shifting and Mark Frost’s The Paladin Prophecy. As per your submission guidelines, I have pasted the first 250 words below.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



I’ve spent thirty-six months in therapy for “body image issues.” The funny thing is I haven’t looked in the mirror in six years so, when you think about it, it’d be almost impossible for me to hate the way I look. I don’t have a problem with my body. I have a problem with mirrors, which isn’t the same thing.

I see strange things when I look in the mirror. I know what you’re thinking and, no, my face isn’t one of them. I mean crazy, awful things, like earthquakes and people dying.

I’ll be honest: it was terrifying at first. I would start shaking whenever I saw a mirror, half expecting something to leap out and grab me. But now that I’ve trained myself not to look, it’s fine. I’m almost oblivious these days.

There’s no mirror in my room. I had to put my foot down about that; I needed a place where I could relax. That’s when my mom decided I had problems and stuck me in therapy.

I didn’t even try to correct her. Even a twelve-year-old can figure out that seeing death in the mirror isn’t something you can bring up with your parents--or anyone else--unless you want them to think you’re bats*** crazy. So therapy turned out to be a good thing, a convenient excuse for why I was acting weird. And, as an added bonus, now I feel great about my body.

An Agent's Inbox #8

Dear Ms. Jeglinski,

Three years ago Dylan took a life for the first time. To protect his friends, he must do it once again. Fortunately, it’s a task he enjoys performing.

Sixteen-year-old Dylan awakens in the hospital and discovers the army base he calls home is under attack. Someone has unleashed what appears to be sarin gas. Dylan stumbles across the airstrip barely making it onto one of the packed evacuation planes. The escape doesn't go as planned and the plane crashes on an uninhabited island.

Dylan gathers himself after the crash and discovers that five other army brats are also alive. Together they hunt for food, build a shelter, and search for a way home.  Dylan does his best to keep his distance from the group, both physically and emotionally. After all, having homicidal urges isn't something that makes people want to be your friend. Six-year-old David, the youngest survivor, has other plans and constantly follows Dylan around. Dylan gives into the boy’s need for friendship as it provides a nice distraction from the no-so-clandestine romantic dramas occurring within the group.

One day, soldiers appear on the island. But they aren't there to take the survivors home, they've come to finish them off. Dylan grows concerned over David's safety appointing himself the boy's guardian. After members of the group are killed, Dylan gives into his murderous urges to keep David safe. What starts out as a way to protect David quickly turns into an enjoyable game of predator and prey. Until David disobeys an order to remain hidden and witnesses Dylan dispatching a soldier. Dylan questions if the mercenaries or his carnal thirst is what David really needs to be protected from.

SURVIVING SARIN is a 69,000 word YA thriller and the first of a trilogy, best described as I Hunt Killers meets The 100.

I am a high school biology teacher and I also serve as chapter director of an organization that trains rescued dogs for military veterans. I belong to SCBWI, RWA, and Sisters in Crime. I have been published in Sisters in Crime’s First Draft July 2014. I agree with you that the phone call and getting to know someone personally should be just as important in deciding whether or not to offer representation. It would be hard to have the working relationship that an author and agent must have if the two clash. I would love to know if someone is blunt vs. sugar coats something, or if they are long winded vs. to the point. Kudos for being a furbabies foster parent. Many rescues & shelters could not do the work they do without people like you.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Warm Regards,


“I want your dad to sign this and return it to me tomorrow,” Mrs. Harwood says as she slides my English essay across her desk for me to see.

She’s a real pain in my a**, and my step-father, Rob, is going to kill me when he sees I failed this paper. I tried my best, but a comparative essay on how life experiences shape who a person becomes is not something that comes easy. Then to have to relate it back to a character from a book… I don’t think a character even exists that has gone through what I have. Or has the secrets I have.

“Whatever,” I mumble, grabbing the paper as I head out the door.

The walk home is arduous, and my headache doesn’t help. This is the fifth time I have gotten a headache in the past two days.

“Hey Cynthia. Where’s Rob?” I ask when I get home, preparing for at least an hour long lecture.

“Work.” Her tiny eyes focus on the singing horses on the screen.

“He just left and didn’t get you a babysitter?” Strange, Rob never leaves Cynthia home alone--she’s only four. And he has been very overprotective since the implementation of the base curfew.

She shrugs then adds, “Daddy said not to answer the door, and that you would be home soon. And you have to make dinner.”

Most likely this has something to do with why there is a curfew on the base

An Agent's Inbox #7

Dear Melissa Jeglinski:

Instead of putting her telepathy and ability to see sound as color to good use, rebellious sixteen-year old Lottie would rather be listening to Sonic Youth. A mysterious group from a world called Karnock gave Lottie her powers, but she has never known why she was granted these abilities, nor has she known anyone with powers like hers.

That is, until she meets Charlie.

Charlie is a quirky bookseller who can manipulate light into tangible matter. After Lottie catches Charlie displaying his power, she coerces him to admit that he too, is aware of Karnock’s existence. For the first time, Lottie doesn't feel so alone with her abilities, and realizes that Charlie can help her understand more about Karnock. 

Lottie and Charlie journey to Karnock where they see how Earth’s climate change has affected Karnock’s population and landscape. The two worlds have a symbiotic relationship, linked through ecological disaster; for what happens on Earth is paralleled on Karnock.
With Karnock’s landscape in ruin, an enchantress named Theodora wants to reverse the ecological destruction on Karnock and obliterate Earth. Soon, Lottie and Charlie must flee from Theodora who is determined to kill Lottie before she can use her powers to stop the enchantress’s plans. 

On Earth, Lottie never had high expectations for herself, but she knows that with her abilities, a good dose of stubbornness, and maybe some assistance from Charlie, she can figure out how to defeat Theodora on Karnock before Earth is destroyed. 

TWICE AFFECTED is an 80,000 word YA light science fiction/fantasy novel with an environmental twist. The manuscript has elements of A WRINKLE IN TIME and ULTRAVIOLET, with a dash of AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH. 

I have included the first 250 words of the manuscript for your review. 

I worked on this manuscript at Simmons College as a project toward the completion of my Master of Fine Arts degree in Writing for Children, which I received in May 2014. 

Thank you for your time and consideration. 



Evelyn was always full of idle threats. I never thought she’d do it. I never thought my mother would actually follow through and dump me off here. 

I’d been at my great aunt's for two weeks, and was bored out of my mind. The day, like every other day before it, had been gloomy and humid, with a thick air of stillness about it. Now, at dusk, the most exciting thing that was happening was that I was precariously hanging out of a window. 

This wasn't my idea of a good time, but it was the only option that I’d had. 

Evelyn had threatened with shipping me away a hundred times before, if I didn't turn things right. It’s not like I wanted trouble, or that I went looking for it. But I sure as hell don’t back down when trouble finds me. 

It was the fight at school that landed me here, though it probably would have been something eventually to trigger Evelyn's decision to deploy me. 

When I slammed my fist into Jennifer’s jaw, the noise had resulted not in me seeing red, as the saying goes, but a dancing pattern of teal and lavender. 

Harold’s disembodied voice was loud in my head, and interrupted my thoughts:

--Lottie, you know that there are easier ways to break your neck. Are you trying to get caught?

I responded back:

--But I’m not trying to break my neck. I’m just trying to get out of here.

An Agent's Inbox #6

Dear Ms. Jeglinksi:

I seek representation for my young adult science fiction novel, WHERE THERE WERE DESERTS, I SAW FOUNTAINS, complete at 91,000 words.

Joni Margulis and her best friend Kelly Grebe don’t know where in the world they are. Or even which world.

Three days ago, the pair snuck into her parents’ lab and, after fiddling with some suspicious equipment, discovered something astounding: namely, that their world is but one of many, extending in bubbles all around them.  Not even Joni’s parents know this, but they will in the future, because somehow Joni’s dad sent the girls a transmission across time. And his advice was to run.

Joni and Kelly soon find themselves chased through several of these worlds. They steal cars in a futuristic, gang-infested underground city, repel invaders in a tiny medieval-like kingdom, and duck gunfire at a chilidog stand on the Sunset Strip. They meet assassins and spies, earls and innkeepers, many of whom believe that Joni is the latest of the Josephines, extraordinary young women who have repeatedly changed the course of history. Joni must decide if she believes this too, and how much she is willing to sacrifice for these newly found worlds.

Where There Were Deserts, I Saw Fountains has the cohesive worldbuilding and gripping adventures that SF and fantasy fans expect, but will attract non-genre readers with its strong, engaging characters. Add in a bit of romance, a little mystery, some Japanese folklore set in center city Philadelphia, and a few Vikings (or at least their descendants) and this is a book that will appeal to a diverse audience.

After reading your various interviews, I was really drawn to the care that you put into your agent-client relationships. I want an agent for the long haul, someone who will be there because she has a passion for my work and my potential.

Thank you for your time and consideration of this proposal. I look forward to hearing from you.



It was a beautiful spring afternoon in Philadelphia and a crowd had gathered along the Schuylkill River to look for monsters. Joni Margulis climbed over the art museum hill, saw the spectators spread out on the grass, and gritted her teeth.

“Idiots,” she told her dog Bramble. “They’re such idiots. And they’re in the middle of your spot. Well, that’s their problem.”

She tugged on Bramble’s leash and together they jogged down to the grass by the old water works. They set up on the grass behind the crowd, which was mostly near the river’s edge. Bramble ran out twenty meters in front of her and plopped on the grass, staring at Joni. Joni loaded up her tennis ball launcher and reared her arm back for the throw.

“Ow!” yelled a voice behind her.

“I’m so sorry,” Joni spun around. “I didn’t see you there.”

A young man was rubbing his head where she had struck him. Joni pegged him at a couple of years older than her, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Good looking, but smiled like he didn’t know that. He was tall and thin, with light brown skin and dark brown hair down to his shirt collar. He pocketed his cell phone.

“It’s all right,” he said, with a faint accent that Joni couldn’t recognize. “I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Yes, you should have. But I probably shouldn’t have hit you with my atlatl.”

“Your what?”

“My atlatl. Isn’t it awesome?”

An Agent's Inbox #5

Dear Ms. Jeglinski, 

Seventh-grader Rae has several problems. There’s her humiliating, botched try-out for the middle school newspaper. There’s her sister morphing into a boyfriend-hiding, b-word calling teenager. There’s her mother, Austin’s Feminist Jackson Pollock, withdrawing further into her art studio every day. And now there’s her mom’s hidden childhood journal, reeking of mothballs and a secret.

Through the journal’s entries, Rae catches a glimpse of an ebullient girl growing up in small town Texas who is nothing like the melancholy woman her mom has become. The jarring revelation on the last page leaves Rae with a ton of questions and a lousy feeling in her gut, which can mean only one thing.

Rae’s found her lead and, with it, a chance to redeem herself as a journalist and salvage her writing career. 

As her investigation unfolds, Rae confronts the truth about a religious boarding school called the Rebekah Home for Girls, her mother’s conservative upbringing, and her own changing opinions on faith, family, and the pursuit of facts. Rae knows she can prove her writing chops, if only she can unravel the story in time.

THE COUNTLESS THREADS OF RAE JULY is a contemporary realistic Middle Grade complete at 53,000 words and a simultaneous submission. Summer Mitamoto’s sincerity in THE THING ABOUT LUCK meets Mo LoBeau’s pluck in THREE TIMES LUCKY as Rae struggles to find her voice in the world and on the page.

I am a former sixth grade teacher and a member of SCBWI. My personal essays have been published in the Harvard Educational Review, as well as a smaller literary journal. I really appreciate your honest candor and industry knowledge, and have learned a lot by reading blogs on which you’ve been interviewed. I am grateful for this opportunity to offer my manuscript for your consideration.

Thank you for your time.



Fact: The last time I wore a skirt someone died. I put one on to visit Dad’s Aunt Ethel who was sick with pneumonia and by the time we got to her house, there were ambulances in the driveway. Aunt Ethel was fine but her neighbor, Mr. Weatherwood, was not. Tripped bringing Ethel a pot of matzo ball soup, bless his heart.

Needless to say, I had mixed feelings walking through the doors of Lamar Middle School in a black cotton skirt and grey Beatles tee. But when your sister is sixteen and gorgeous, and tells you to wear a skirt “because only twelve year old boys wear basketball shorts and not the cool ones,” you tuck your blue mesh gently into the back of your sock drawer and hope for the best.

The first day of seventh grade was a whole lot like the first day of any other grade, which is to say we did a whole lot of nothing. That a half-day could drag on in such a way did not bode well for the year ahead, but after three excruciating hours of icebreakers and a sloppy Sloppy Joe lunch, it was at least nearly done. Finally, at twelve-oh-five sharp, I entered my first Lamar Lookout meeting. It felt like reaching the surface after sitting too long at the bottom of a pool: my heart raced, my fingers felt pruney, but I could breathe.

An Agent's Inbox #4

Dear Ms. Jeglinski:

At 12.9 years old, Kade Walker has never heard of death. Literally. But neither has anyone else he knows. Kade is one of hundreds of kids living across the solar system through the use of robotic avatars while their real bodies sleep in pods on Earth. Nothing can hurt him this way; the adults all said so. They just never said how to survive middle school when only one person on the planet will talk to him.

Kade will admit, his obsession with numbers might deter 35.7% of kids from hanging out with him. But the bigger issue is his best friend--Princess Tamika of Venus. So her mom almost let a crazed hacker take over everyone's bodies twelve years ago. The queen is locked away, and Tamika herself is really nice. Kade needs to give her reputation a serious reboot. He starts off simple: an interstellar tour using an old teleportation machine that he's reconstructed. But the machine's not rigged for current use, so when Kade fires it up, he unwittingly kills a major security wall and unleashes the same hacker from twelve years ago. Panic rating: ten times infinity. The hacker shuts off all communications with the adults and begins to take control of the royal avatars. If Kade doesn't want to see his best friend used as a puppet, he needs to stop the hacker fast--even if that means waking up on Earth to fight with a body he never realized could be hurt.

MY BEST FRIEND RUNS VENUS (45,000 words) is an MG science fiction novel. I am a Clarion West alumna whose work has sold to True Confessions, Every Day Fiction, and Highlights for Children. Thank you for your consideration.



It wasn't the first time Kade had hacked the Venusian maintenance system, but it was one of the best. If he had to put a number on it (and there was little he didn't put a number on), he'd give it a 9.7.
The 9.8 and 9.9 scores were reserved for something epic he hadn't thought of yet, and 10.0 was for the day he would finally reprogram how his robotic body looked.

Still, assuming he didn't get caught, his skills today would land him on a totally different planet. Maybe that deserved the 9.8 slot after all. If Tamika would hurry and get here, he could ask for her opinion.

Kade straightened against a metal door embedded in a burnt orange mountainside and flicked his left wing. A line of glowing text scrolled across his view: 5:03:34pm. He'd checked the time fifty-three
seconds ago, but whenever he wasn't reading data, he felt lost. The adults called it unhealthy. Healthy people could watch a sunset without calculating its luminosity every thirty seconds, but healthy
people sounded boring. Besides, the numbers comforted him. Nobody got weirded out by seeing their own hands all the time, did they? His numbers were just that--an extra set of hands. Or wings. Or

Kade froze. His sensors detected a deep clunking sound that echoed across Venus's stone-hard surface. Low volume, maybe twenty to thirty decibels. His first thought was that it was a patrol robot, but it was coming too fast.

An Agent's Inbox #3

Dear Ms. Jeglinski,

When fifteen-year-old David O’Reilly passes out in English Lit, he wakes to find things different. His classmates carry swords at their hips, and Magical Aptitude has replaced Algebra. Even his town has changed. The pavement has turned to cobblestone and half the homes have gone from vinyl siding to wattle and daub. 

David’s bouts of unconsciousness don’t stop there, and neither do the changes to Ithaca, PA, which is becoming more and more Medieval. Soon David’s coal miner dad undergoes a strange transformation that leaves him dwarfed in height and incredibly strong. When he and the other miners heed an irresistible call down to the depths of the earth, David must find the one responsible and put a stop to it. Ideally before these coma-inducing temporal shifts send Ithaca back to the Dark Ages. 

All the clues lead in one direction: Town Hall and a mayor who has closeted himself behind spear-wielding guards. David decides to break in, or he would if he could make it through the week without being harassed by school bullies who now carry lethal weapons. When David manages to penetrate Town Hall, he finds the mayor dangling by strings from the ceiling; a puppet literally and figuratively. From the mayor’s animated lips comes a mocking voice. “Stop me if you can, David, but isn’t this the way the world should be?” 

My first novel, MYTHACA, is a 55,000 word upper MG contemporary fantasy with series potential. Thank you for your time and consideration.



It felt kind of like a granny squeezing your cheeks, except instead of just squeezing, she pulls your face in three different directions and pushes on your eyes with her thumbs. My body felt disjointed too, like I’d lost all my bones and was being twisted into a tight knot.


The bones slid back into place, but granny was still having her way with my face.

“What’s wrong with him?”

I opened my eyes a little. The world stopped spinning long enough for me to tell where I was. At first, all I saw was the underside of my desk, pink globs of dried up gum and little indentations that had been drilled into the particle board with the tip of a pen. I noticed that most of the class was crowded around, staring down at me.

“I’m alright. I’m good.” I sat up and gripped the edge of my chair in case the floor decided to smack me again.

“Was that a seizure?”

“Do you smell burnt toast?”

I sat down at my desk and tried to sort out my hair, but the red curly fuzz ball did what it wanted. The other kids were still staring at me, probably wondering when I would flake out next. I held out both my hands to show that they weren’t shaking. 

“See, solid as a rock.”

The show was over. Starting with a few of the more popular girls who didn’t want any of my weirdness to rub off on them, they all headed back to their desks.

An Agent's Inbox #2

Dear Ms. Jeglinski,

Following the death of her father, shy, bi-racial eleven-year old Wren doesn't know where she belongs. Her mother spends most of her time locked in her healer's hut, hardly noticing her daughter. This leaves Wren to fend for herself in their little town of Edgeton, the only human settlement in the Never Never, a land where mythical creatures like the Irish Sìdhe and the Cherokee Nunnehi live together in less than perfect harmony.

When Wren is kidnapped and locked in a tower woven of living trees, she learns that a Sìdhe girl, Finola has taken her place in Edgeton. The dangerous and cunning Finola intends to gain access to Wren’s mother’s work and start a war with the Nunnehi, Wren’s mother’s people. The Queen of the Sìdhe comes to Wren with an offer. She will help Wren escape, but Wren has to find a way to stop Finola from destroying the delicate peace of the Never Never. In order to win this battle, Wren must learn to control the wild cords of magic hidden within her, all the while knowing magic is prohibited by her mother and her town.

Complete at 70,000 words, STRANGE KIN is a middle grade fantasy with series potential that explores folklore from all over the world. I’ve included the first 250 words of the manuscript, per contest guidelines.

After completing my Bachelor’s in Creative Writing at the University of Tennessee, I graduated from the University of Memphis in 2012 with a MFA in Creative Writing. I am a member of SCBWI, and I am hard at work on my next manuscript. While I am currently teaching English in South Korea, I will be returning to the U.S. in early October.

Thank you for your consideration.



Wren was not pleased with the bargain she had made for herself. She should have been happy to be outside instead of tied to her desk and her studies. She should have been excited to be kicking her way through last fall’s leaves, swinging a bucket and whacking the ground with a broom. But her mother had made certain sure that Wren’s punishment would be nothing like fun. If Wren had been able to control her temper, she would have been studying for her test on edible plants rather than making her way through the woods with an impossibly long list of chores. She swiped at a tree trunk, using the broom as a sword. Her mother was intent on punishing her, and no one, not her mother, not her teacher, not even the head of school, had listened when she had told them that it hadn’t been her fault.

The first item on her list of chores was cleaning the tree house. She couldn't really even call it a tree house. The little shack perched on a steep hill was surrounded by trees, but it wasn’t in one. There was no rope ladder, no limbs to climb onto, nothing to keep anyone out of her space except a door with rusty hinges. The door squealed when she pushed it open. Wren shivered as she set down her bucket. Cooler inside than it was outside, something about this room always made her skin crawl. Wren grimaced at the cobwebs hanging around the single, grimy window and fervently wished she hadn’t lost her temper at school.

An Agent's Inbox #1

Dear Ms. Jeglinski,

I hope you’ll enjoy THE ONLY WAY TO CHANGE, my 78,000 word YA magical realism. Like Katie in Amanda Sun’s INK, my main character finds his way through strange circumstances and complicated relationships.

Life as a sick kid gives Evan plenty of time to perfect his aquarium and exactly no experience talking to girls. His rare liver disorder hasn’t flared in years, though. He’s tired of his hovering mom and a best friend expecting him to collapse any minute. Evan wants to break free from all the restrictions.

When he takes a few drinks on his eighteenth birthday, the morning-after stint in hospital h*** isn’t a big shocker. But in his vivid dreams, this jerk from the party dies in a car crash, and Evan kisses the weirdest girl at the funeral. The memories haunt him, until the nightmares come true. Five days later.

Evan worries the visions could be illness-induced delusions. But a hurricane barrels toward his Florida town and threatens his aquarium, the friends and family who’ve always protected him, and the girl he may be falling for. If he really can drink and dream the future, maybe this time he can change things for the better, even if it wrecks his liver and his mind.

In THE ONLY WAY TO CHANGE, the unstoppable ticking clock of Mandy Hubbard’s YOU WISH meets the wry humored male protagonist of Holly Black’s WHITE CAT.

I have a BA in English and an MEd in English education from the University of Florida. My article on writing instruction was published in the NCTE journal Notes Plus, and my short story “Regeneration” received honorable mention in L. Ron Hubbard’s Writers of the Future Contest. I’m also the critique group leader for my local chapter of the SCBWI.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



Hanna Park closed at dusk, but the loose chain on the staff gate never stopped us from sneaking in. The park’s dense forest secluded the beach from the traffic on A1A and the condos farther south. Colton and I followed the trail toward the ocean. His narrow flashlight beam bounced on the sand.

“Happy Birthday, Evan.” Colt clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Want me to make everybody sing?”

I grimaced. “Let’s not broadcast it.”

No one except Colton even knew it was my birthday. These beach parties were just a regular Saturday night thing. I’d told my parents we were headed to see Old School at the dollar movie. I wouldn’t have minded going there instead, but I decided turning eighteen deserved at least a symbolic celebration.

We reached the top of the dunes. The usual jumble of bodies circled the bonfire down the beach, and a bad playlist blared from mini speakers. A shadow shaped like Colt’s girlfriend broke away from the group and started toward us.

“You hunting something in particular tonight?” Colt flipped the handle to me.

“Not really. Go on, I’ll catch up.” I grabbed the light and waved him off. Colt came to these parties for the people. I went for the salt water.

“You sure you’re feeling alright?” He cracked his knuckles and eased down the dune, closing the distance between him and his girl. “We can still make it to the movie.”

“I’m fine.” I raised my eyebrows and kicked off my loafers.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Now Accepting Entries

UPDATE: We've filled our last slot! It's 4:20 p.m. EDT (or 1:20 p.m. PDT), and I still have a few e-mails to respond to, but I wanted to let you know that the contest is full. The entries will start going up tomorrow morning at 11:00 a.m. EDT (or 8:00 a.m. PDT)!

I'm now accepting entries for September's round of "An Agent's Inbox." Here's a quick refresher:

The Rules

1. To enter, your manuscript must meet two conditions: First, it must be COMPLETE, POLISHED, AND READY TO QUERY, and second, it must be in one of the genres The Agent represents (which are listed at the bottom of this post).

2. IF YOU PARTICIPATED IN LAST MONTH'S ROUND OF “AN AGENT’S INBOX,” please DO NOT participate in this one UNLESS YOUR HAVE A NEW MANUSCRIPT that meets the criteria listed above. I have a pretty good memory, and I will disqualify previous entries. If the entry slots don’t fill up by Tuesday, September 23, I may allow previous participants to enter, but honestly, I don’t expect them to last that long.

3. All entries must include A QUERY and THE FIRST 250 WORDS of your manuscript. You must paste these items IN THE BODY OF YOUR E-MAIL; otherwise, I'll disqualify it.

4. THE ENTRY WINDOW OPENS AT 1:00 P.M. EDT (OR 10:00 A.M. PDT). Once the entry window opens, I'll accept the first 20 entries. I won't accept any entries sent before the entry window opens or after the first 20 slots fill up. I know I instituted a last-second lottery last month, but I'm planning to stick with the first 20 entries this time (since the last-second lottery took a lot more time than I thought it would). In other words, make sure you have your entries ready to go at 1:00 p.m. EDT on the dot!

5. If your entry makes it in, I'll send you a confirmation e-mail with a post number. If your entry doesn't make it in, I'll still send you an e-mail, but it won't have a post number.

6. If your entry makes it in, YOU MUST COMMENT ON AT LEAST 3 OTHER ENTRIES.

The Prizes The Agent, Melissa Jeglinski* of The Knight Agency, will select both the winners and the prizes. The Agent might pick 20 winners, or she might only pick one. The Agent might offer full requests, or she might only ask to see another page. It all depends on how good the entries are.

Please keep in mind that THIS CONTEST ISN'T FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. I've encouraged The Agent to treat the entries exactly as she would a normal batch of queries. Essentially, The Agent will be answering the question, "How much of the entry did you read, and if you didn't read it all, why did you stop?" I think this process will be instructive for all of us, but if you enter, you need to be prepared to hear exactly what The Agent thinks of your query and first page.

The Genres

MG fiction (all genres)
YA fiction (all genres)
Adult Romance (specifically inspirational, historical, contemporary, and category)
Adult Cozy Mysteries
Adult Thrillers
Women's Fiction

To enter, please send an e-mail with YOUR QUERY and THE FIRST 250 WORDS of your manuscript to kvandolzer(at)gmail(dot)com. And please, please, please remember to PASTE THESE ITEMS IN THE BODY OF THE E-MAIL.

*I know this probably goes without saying, but if you’re thinking about entering, you should probably treat this round a little differently than you would if you didn’t already know The Agent’s identity. Feel free to do a little research and include personalization in your queries. Also, if you've already queried Ms. Jeglinski, PLEASE DON'T ENTER UNLESS YOU HAVE A NEW MANUSCRIPT THAT MEETS THE CRITERIA LISTED ABOVE. Since I don't have access to Ms. Gref's inbox, I can't really police this, but you--and she--are going to get a lot more out of this contest if you enter something The Agent hasn’t seen before.

Friday, September 19, 2014

"An Agent's Inbox" Contest Alert


“An Agent's Inbox” is exactly what it sounds like--next week, I'm turning the blog into an agent's inbox, a public one. We'll get to see 20 queries along with their first pages, and we'll get to hear what a bona fide agent thinks of each one.

The queries and first pages will be yours, of course. I'll accept your entries this Monday, September 22, and then I'll post them next Wednesday, September 24. The entrants and anyone else who wishes to review them may comment until the following Monday or Tuesday, September 29 or 30, when I'll announce the winners.

Those winners will be chosen by The Agent, and this month, The Agent is Melissa Jeglinski* of The Knight Agency!

The Rules

1. To enter, your manuscript must meet two conditions: First, it must be COMPLETE, POLISHED, AND READY TO QUERY, and second, it must be in one of the genres The Agent represents (which are listed at the bottom of this post).

2. IF YOU PARTICIPATED IN LAST MONTH'S ROUND OF “AN AGENT’S INBOX,” please DO NOT participate in this one UNLESS YOUR HAVE A NEW MANUSCRIPT that meets the criteria listed above. I have a pretty good memory, and I will disqualify previous entries. If the entry slots don’t fill up by Tuesday, September 23, I may allow previous participants to enter, but honestly, I don’t expect them to last that long.

3. All entries must include A QUERY and THE FIRST 250 WORDS of your manuscript. You must paste these items IN THE BODY OF YOUR E-MAIL; otherwise, I'll disqualify it.

4. THE ENTRY WINDOW OPENS AT 1:00 P.M. EDT (OR 10:00 A.M. PDT). Once the entry window opens, I'll accept the first 20 entries. I won't accept any entries sent before the entry window opens or after the first 20 slots fill up. I know I instituted a last-second lottery last month, but I'm planning to stick with the first 20 entries this time (since the last-second lottery took a lot more time than I thought it would). In other words, make sure you have your entries ready to go at 1:00 p.m. EDT on the dot!

5. If your entry makes it in, I'll send you a confirmation e-mail with a post number. If your entry doesn't make it in, I'll still send you an e-mail, but it won't have a post number.

6. If your entry makes it in, YOU MUST COMMENT ON AT LEAST 3 OTHER ENTRIES.

The Prizes The Agent will select both the winners and the prizes. The Agent might pick 20 winners, or she might only pick one. The Agent might offer full requests, or she might only ask to see another page. It all depends on how good the entries are.

Please keep in mind that THIS CONTEST ISN'T FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. I've encouraged The Agent to treat the entries exactly as she would a normal batch of queries. Essentially, The Agent will be answering the question, "How much of the entry did you read, and if you didn't read it all, why did you stop?" I think this process will be instructive for all of us, but if you enter, you need to be prepared to hear exactly what The Agent thinks of your query and first page.

So get those queries and first pages polished up, then meet us back here on Monday, September 22, at 1:00 p.m. EDT! At that time, you may send your entries to kvandolzer(at)gmail(dot)com. Looking forward to it!

The Genres

MG fiction (all genres)
YA fiction (all genres)
Adult Romance (specifically inspirational, historical, contemporary, and category)
Adult Cozy Mysteries
Adult Thrillers
Women's Fiction

And of course, if you have any questions, feel free to leave them in the comments below!

*I know this probably goes without saying, but if you’re thinking about entering, you should probably treat this round a little differently than you would if you didn’t already know The Agent’s identity. Feel free to do a little research and include personalization in your queries. Also, if you've already queried Ms. Jeglinski, PLEASE DON'T ENTER UNLESS YOU HAVE A NEW MANUSCRIPT THAT MEETS THE CRITERIA LISTED ABOVE. Since I don't have access to Ms. Jeglinski's inbox, I can't really police this, but you--and she--are going to get a lot more out of this contest if you enter something The Agent hasn’t seen before.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Leave a Comment, Enter to Win a Book and/or a Partial Critique!

To celebrate the blog's fifth birthday, I'm giving away three books and three partial critiques. The winning readers will be able to choose one of the following books:

A.L. Sonnichsen's RED BUTTERFLY (hardcover pre-order)
Liesl Shurtliff's RUMP (paperback) or JACK (hardcover pre-order)
Tara Dairman's ALL FOUR STARS (hardcover)

The winning writers will win 30-page critiques. I'm willing to critique any category, any genre (provided that the first thirty pages are no worse than PG-13-rated), so bring it on!

To enter, just leave a comment on this post and LET ME KNOW WHETHER YOU WANT TO BE ENTERED IN THE BOOK GIVEAWAY, THE CRITIQUE GIVEAWAY, OR BOTH. Anyone may enter to win one of the partial critiques, but the books are only available to US and Canadian residents. (My apologies to my international readers!) Both contests close in two weeks, on Tuesday, September 30, at 11:59 p.m. EDT (or 8:59 p.m. PDT). I'll select the random winners the next day!