Without any ado, Ms. Shea’s winners:
First place: #7 THUMP
THUMP wins a request for the first 100 pages!
Second place: #12 GENTLY USED
GENTLY USED wins a request for the first 50 pages!
Third place: #5 OUTSIDE IN
OUTSIDE IN wins a request for the first 30 pages!
Congratulations, winners! Please e-mail me at
kvandolzer(at)gmail(dot)com for instructions on how to submit your materials to
Ms. Shea.
And remember, anyone who participated in this round of “An
Agent’s Inbox” may still enter “The Writer’s Voice” later this week if you so
choose. We’ll accept entries this Thursday, May 3, and we’re also planning to
post some detailed submission guidelines the day before, so stay tuned!
Last but not least, a huge thank-you to Ms. Shea for judging
this round and critiquing the entries. And a huge thank-you to everyone else
for entering, critiquing, and generally talking up the contest. Couldn’t do it
without you!
Monday, April 30, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
"An Agent's Inbox" Underway!
Let the critiquing begin! 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?" as
you give your feedback, but I'm sure the entrants would love to hear anything
you have to say (so long as it's constructive, of course).
Entrants, please remember to critique at least 3 other entries. Also, if you spot a Krista-generated error in your post, do let me know so I can fix it.
Lastly, you should know that all replacing of swear words with funky asterisks is my doing, not the entrants', so you don't need to tell them that profanity in YA is okay. They know:)
I'll announce Ms. Shea's winners and prizes first thing next week. Until then, critique away!
Entrants, please remember to critique at least 3 other entries. Also, if you spot a Krista-generated error in your post, do let me know so I can fix it.
Lastly, you should know that all replacing of swear words with funky asterisks is my doing, not the entrants', so you don't need to tell them that profanity in YA is okay. They know:)
I'll announce Ms. Shea's winners and prizes first thing next week. Until then, critique away!
An Agent's Inbox #20
Dear Ms. Shea:
Every good fairy tale has a princess, a perfect Prince Charming and plenty of magical kisses. 17-year-old Alaina Andersen wants that fairy tale.
Alaina has always felt like a frog, but she knows that the perfect kiss can turn a frog into a princess. She's waiting for her fairy tale--for the white knight to come riding in and sweep her off her feet, the one magic moment that will make life perfect and give her a "happily ever after" ending. When Shane Crawford, the most gorgeous boy in school, kisses her, she thinks she might finally have a chance, but the kiss is a disaster, and Alaina doesn’t feel like she’s changed at all.
Alaina turns to her friend Kendra for guidance. Since seventh grade, when Kendra started telling her about all the mean things the other girls were saying behind her back, Alaina has known Kendra was the only friend she could really trust. But when Shane comes begging for another chance to win her heart, and the “mean girls” turn out to be pretty nice, Alaina begins to think Kendra might be more wicked witch than fairy godmother.
In a twist on the classic fairy tale, KISSING FROGS is a 49,000-word contemporary Young Adult novel about a girl who is already a swan, but allows a manipulative “friend” to convince her she’s an ugly duckling, until she finally has the courage to stand up for herself.
Sincerely,
V.B.
KISSING FROGS
The bell rang, and I jumped up, scurrying out of class before my best friend, Kendra, could catch up with me.
“Hi gorgeous, how was your day?” My second best friend, Jarod, met me at the door and took my books.
I rolled my eyes and glanced back into the classroom. Mr. Finn was talking to Kendra about her grades again. I had at least five minutes.
“There isn’t much to tell,” I stepped into the hallway. “Typical Tuesday. No tests, no big assignments. Pretty boring. What about you?”
I sat on the wobbly old desk Mr. Finn keeps outside his classroom, careful to avoid the pile of graded homework assignments stacked in the corner. Jarod twirled the combination and yanked my locker open. “Well, I’m talking to a knockout with the most beautiful long, blonde hair you’ve ever seen. Overall, it’s been a great day.”
He dropped his backpack on the bottom shelf and handed my flute to me. Turning back to my locker with a scowl, he tore down the list Kendra had taped to the inside of the door.
“How many times do I have to get rid of this?” he demanded. “You don’t need garbage like this cluttering up your space.”
I shrugged. “Kendra says…”
“Kendra’s evil. She is not your friend. What kind of sick, twisted person would make you keep a list of your flaws taped next to your mirror? Who came up with these lies, anyway? You do not have a big nose!”
Every good fairy tale has a princess, a perfect Prince Charming and plenty of magical kisses. 17-year-old Alaina Andersen wants that fairy tale.
Alaina has always felt like a frog, but she knows that the perfect kiss can turn a frog into a princess. She's waiting for her fairy tale--for the white knight to come riding in and sweep her off her feet, the one magic moment that will make life perfect and give her a "happily ever after" ending. When Shane Crawford, the most gorgeous boy in school, kisses her, she thinks she might finally have a chance, but the kiss is a disaster, and Alaina doesn’t feel like she’s changed at all.
Alaina turns to her friend Kendra for guidance. Since seventh grade, when Kendra started telling her about all the mean things the other girls were saying behind her back, Alaina has known Kendra was the only friend she could really trust. But when Shane comes begging for another chance to win her heart, and the “mean girls” turn out to be pretty nice, Alaina begins to think Kendra might be more wicked witch than fairy godmother.
In a twist on the classic fairy tale, KISSING FROGS is a 49,000-word contemporary Young Adult novel about a girl who is already a swan, but allows a manipulative “friend” to convince her she’s an ugly duckling, until she finally has the courage to stand up for herself.
Sincerely,
V.B.
KISSING FROGS
The bell rang, and I jumped up, scurrying out of class before my best friend, Kendra, could catch up with me.
“Hi gorgeous, how was your day?” My second best friend, Jarod, met me at the door and took my books.
I rolled my eyes and glanced back into the classroom. Mr. Finn was talking to Kendra about her grades again. I had at least five minutes.
“There isn’t much to tell,” I stepped into the hallway. “Typical Tuesday. No tests, no big assignments. Pretty boring. What about you?”
I sat on the wobbly old desk Mr. Finn keeps outside his classroom, careful to avoid the pile of graded homework assignments stacked in the corner. Jarod twirled the combination and yanked my locker open. “Well, I’m talking to a knockout with the most beautiful long, blonde hair you’ve ever seen. Overall, it’s been a great day.”
He dropped his backpack on the bottom shelf and handed my flute to me. Turning back to my locker with a scowl, he tore down the list Kendra had taped to the inside of the door.
“How many times do I have to get rid of this?” he demanded. “You don’t need garbage like this cluttering up your space.”
I shrugged. “Kendra says…”
“Kendra’s evil. She is not your friend. What kind of sick, twisted person would make you keep a list of your flaws taped next to your mirror? Who came up with these lies, anyway? You do not have a big nose!”
An Agent's Inbox #19
Dear Ms. Shea:
Although it looks like Monica, Sara, Sarah H., Jill and Lisa have nothing more in common than the small town they grew up in, they’ve somehow managed to stay (mostly) best friends for thirty years. Told entirely through their e-mails to each other, Virtually Friends takes an intimate peek at the craziest year these thirty-somethings have ever known:
--the ups and downs (and excessive ins and outs) of trying to get pregnant could push Monica out of her perfect marriage bed with her perfect high school sweetheart and into the arms of her sexy professor;
--Sara has fallen in love after years of no-strings-attached sex romps, but her new steady date could destroy her hard-fought political career and her heart;
--sweet Sarah H.’s business is booming, but a move to the big city brings lifestyle changes this good Christian girl is not ready to handle;
--Jill learns that she’s built her seemingly charmed world on a lie when the love of her younger life reappears; and
--unlucky in love and birth control, wise-cracking Lisa is stuck back in their hometown, buried under the weight of her four kids and in serious risk of drifting away from the gang for good.
They need each other now more than ever, yet all they can muster most days is a quick chat online. Secrets are uncovered and relationships teeter in the balance as their lives and loves are revealed through what they say--and don’t say--in their e-mails. When they’re hit with the scariest challenge of all, will a shared history and tenuous electronic connection be enough to hold their friendship together?
Always frank and funny, at times poignant or pissed off (think Sex and the City meets Atlantic Canada), Virtually Friends is women’s fiction that is complete at 88,000 words.
Thank you for your consideration and for generously offering up your busy inbox for this exciting contest! You will find a small sample of Virtually Friends below.
Sincerely,
J.R.
VIRTUALLY FRIENDS
Hello my lovelies! So sorry I’ve been incommunicado… September was INSANE! School’s been a HUGE adjustment but I seriously can’t even begin to tell you how much I love it! It’s going to be a ton of work, but it’s so... exhilarating!!! (Sorry--there was a sale on exclamation marks, and I got there early... !! ) Even work’s been busy this month. I think they sense an imminent defection… they’re throwing all these “interesting” projects my way (their adjective, not mine), but too little too late, I say. I’d love to go back to school full time (did I mention I frikkin’ love it?), but with Cameron working for love and not much money at this point, I know we can’t afford for me to quit my job AND pay for school AND start a family... which leads to perhaps the most draining part of my life right now:
Babymaking… or rather NOT-babymaking… errr, well there is excessive making, just no baby. EvenCam ’s
sick of it. I can’t believe I’m actually writing those words: yes, the man who
could once construe a fart as an invitation to have sex can only muster “Ah
jeez--not AGAIN?” when he hears the (I’m thinking defective?) basal thermometer
beeping. Ahhh, the passion. But, he just climbs back up on the horse and plugs
away at fulfilling his genetic imperative. (Admittedly not the best or most
flattering mix of metaphors, but cut me some slack here people… I’m exhausted!)
So all this “romance,” work and school hasn’t left much time for my girls... What’s new?
Love, Monica
xx/oo
Although it looks like Monica, Sara, Sarah H., Jill and Lisa have nothing more in common than the small town they grew up in, they’ve somehow managed to stay (mostly) best friends for thirty years. Told entirely through their e-mails to each other, Virtually Friends takes an intimate peek at the craziest year these thirty-somethings have ever known:
--the ups and downs (and excessive ins and outs) of trying to get pregnant could push Monica out of her perfect marriage bed with her perfect high school sweetheart and into the arms of her sexy professor;
--Sara has fallen in love after years of no-strings-attached sex romps, but her new steady date could destroy her hard-fought political career and her heart;
--sweet Sarah H.’s business is booming, but a move to the big city brings lifestyle changes this good Christian girl is not ready to handle;
--Jill learns that she’s built her seemingly charmed world on a lie when the love of her younger life reappears; and
--unlucky in love and birth control, wise-cracking Lisa is stuck back in their hometown, buried under the weight of her four kids and in serious risk of drifting away from the gang for good.
They need each other now more than ever, yet all they can muster most days is a quick chat online. Secrets are uncovered and relationships teeter in the balance as their lives and loves are revealed through what they say--and don’t say--in their e-mails. When they’re hit with the scariest challenge of all, will a shared history and tenuous electronic connection be enough to hold their friendship together?
Always frank and funny, at times poignant or pissed off (think Sex and the City meets Atlantic Canada), Virtually Friends is women’s fiction that is complete at 88,000 words.
Thank you for your consideration and for generously offering up your busy inbox for this exciting contest! You will find a small sample of Virtually Friends below.
Sincerely,
J.R.
VIRTUALLY FRIENDS
|
Subject:
|
Catching up
|
|
To:
|
Sara, Sarah H., Jillian, Lisa
|
|
From:
|
Monica
|
Hello my lovelies! So sorry I’ve been incommunicado… September was INSANE! School’s been a HUGE adjustment but I seriously can’t even begin to tell you how much I love it! It’s going to be a ton of work, but it’s so... exhilarating!!! (Sorry--there was a sale on exclamation marks, and I got there early... !! ) Even work’s been busy this month. I think they sense an imminent defection… they’re throwing all these “interesting” projects my way (their adjective, not mine), but too little too late, I say. I’d love to go back to school full time (did I mention I frikkin’ love it?), but with Cameron working for love and not much money at this point, I know we can’t afford for me to quit my job AND pay for school AND start a family... which leads to perhaps the most draining part of my life right now:
Babymaking… or rather NOT-babymaking… errr, well there is excessive making, just no baby. Even
So all this “romance,” work and school hasn’t left much time for my girls... What’s new?
Love, Monica
xx/oo
An Agent's Inbox #18
Dear Ms. Shea:
I am a published non-fiction author seeking representation for my novel, Sparrow Migrations, a braided narrative of five ordinary people transformed by an extraordinary event--the 2009 “Miracle on theHudson
This unpublished novel was a semi-finalist (top 1 percent) in the 2011 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. In a review of contestant manuscripts, a Publishers Weekly reviewer said: “The plot lines are sophisticated, the characters intricately drawn, and the book has a remarkably strong voice.”
I’m querying you after discovering An Agent’s Inbox contest. I’ve spent the last year strengthening the manuscript, and am ready to try my luck again. I hope you’ll consider me as a client.
But first, consider the sparrow.
Robby Palmer certainly does. And the pigeons. And especially, the geese. Aboard a sightseeing ferry with his parents, Robby, a 12-year-old with autism, witnesses the “Miracle on theHudson
Consider the future.
Deborah DeWitt-Goldman ponders it constantly. Half of a power couple at Cornell, she and husband Christopher are trying to escape their infertility struggles when Flight 1549 plunges into the icy river. As they await rescue, Deborah most fears being denied motherhood. In fact, like the plane, all her life expectations are poised to splinter.
Consider the truth.
Brett Stevens is cowering before it. A preacher’s wife who’s hidden a secret for years, she’s aboard the ferry, too. Caught by a TV camera as her incredulous daughter Amanda watches at home inPennsylvania
Straddling commercial and literary fiction, Sparrow Migrations is 78,000 words. Publishers Weekly called it “a book brimming with humanity and grace.”
A professional journalist for 20 years, I’ve published nonfiction (Road Biking Michigan: Globe-Pequot Press, 2005) and essays (Chicken Soup for the Wine Lovers Soul, 2007) and am the mother of a child with autism. You can find out more at carinoga.com.
This is a simultaneous submission. You will find the first 250 words requested below. I’d be happy to send more pages. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
C.N.
SPARROW MIGRATIONS
January 15, 2009
Robby stood on the deck at the very point of the ferry’s bow, chin resting on the rail, absorbing the steady low vibration of the engine. It was quiet out here, soothingly so. His parents were in the cabin, saying the 20-degree weather was too cold for them. Even though it was cold, Robby preferred the nearly empty deck to the warm cabin filled with jostling, oblivious people, talking loudly on their phones, talking to each other, talking, talking, talking. His parents had deliberately chosen midafternoon for this sightseeing excursion around theisland of Manhattan
His headphones helped, too. The giant kind that looked like earmuffs. Most kids he knew wore earbuds and wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair like his. But Robby didn’t care what others thought. When he picked them out at Radio Shack, his mom hesitated. “What about these?” she said, showing him a package of the little tiny white kind he saw around the necks of all the other kids atCharles A. Lindbergh
Middle School
They wore them around their necks because it was against the rules to listen to headphones during the school day. Robby differed that way, too, because he wasn’t actually listening to anything. He cut off the wires after opening the package.
I am a published non-fiction author seeking representation for my novel, Sparrow Migrations, a braided narrative of five ordinary people transformed by an extraordinary event--the 2009 “Miracle on the
This unpublished novel was a semi-finalist (top 1 percent) in the 2011 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. In a review of contestant manuscripts, a Publishers Weekly reviewer said: “The plot lines are sophisticated, the characters intricately drawn, and the book has a remarkably strong voice.”
I’m querying you after discovering An Agent’s Inbox contest. I’ve spent the last year strengthening the manuscript, and am ready to try my luck again. I hope you’ll consider me as a client.
But first, consider the sparrow.
Robby Palmer certainly does. And the pigeons. And especially, the geese. Aboard a sightseeing ferry with his parents, Robby, a 12-year-old with autism, witnesses the “Miracle on the
Consider the future.
Deborah DeWitt-Goldman ponders it constantly. Half of a power couple at Cornell, she and husband Christopher are trying to escape their infertility struggles when Flight 1549 plunges into the icy river. As they await rescue, Deborah most fears being denied motherhood. In fact, like the plane, all her life expectations are poised to splinter.
Consider the truth.
Brett Stevens is cowering before it. A preacher’s wife who’s hidden a secret for years, she’s aboard the ferry, too. Caught by a TV camera as her incredulous daughter Amanda watches at home in
Straddling commercial and literary fiction, Sparrow Migrations is 78,000 words. Publishers Weekly called it “a book brimming with humanity and grace.”
A professional journalist for 20 years, I’ve published nonfiction (Road Biking Michigan: Globe-Pequot Press, 2005) and essays (Chicken Soup for the Wine Lovers Soul, 2007) and am the mother of a child with autism. You can find out more at carinoga.com.
This is a simultaneous submission. You will find the first 250 words requested below. I’d be happy to send more pages. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
C.N.
SPARROW MIGRATIONS
January 15, 2009
Robby stood on the deck at the very point of the ferry’s bow, chin resting on the rail, absorbing the steady low vibration of the engine. It was quiet out here, soothingly so. His parents were in the cabin, saying the 20-degree weather was too cold for them. Even though it was cold, Robby preferred the nearly empty deck to the warm cabin filled with jostling, oblivious people, talking loudly on their phones, talking to each other, talking, talking, talking. His parents had deliberately chosen midafternoon for this sightseeing excursion around the
His headphones helped, too. The giant kind that looked like earmuffs. Most kids he knew wore earbuds and wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair like his. But Robby didn’t care what others thought. When he picked them out at Radio Shack, his mom hesitated. “What about these?” she said, showing him a package of the little tiny white kind he saw around the necks of all the other kids at
They wore them around their necks because it was against the rules to listen to headphones during the school day. Robby differed that way, too, because he wasn’t actually listening to anything. He cut off the wires after opening the package.
An Agent's Inbox #17
Dear Ms. Shea,
I'm seeking representation for my YA novel, STAGED, and wondered if you might be interested in adding it to your list. A couple of weeks ago, you tweeted that you'd like to see a story set somewhere unusual; this story, which centers around a fifteen-year-old girl who's drafted into a secret acting troupe, takes place largely in an abandoned theater. The novel would appeal to readers who enjoy E. Lockhart's humorous honesty and Sarah Dessen’s explorations into the intricacies of love and friendship. It is complete at 87,000 words.
Camille Galaway doesn’t take the job at run-downCamp Taviwach Grigsby , Colorado and
back to California
Her plans to ditch the camp as soon as she gets paid are complicated when the owner’s bossy, brooding daughter, Luce, ropes Camille into joining her troupe of actors, the Blissters, who secretly meet at the camp’s old off-limits theater at night. When Camille’s dad becomes Divorcees’ surprise star, the curtain falls on her plan to go home, and she starts to connect with the other actors--especially leading man, Sebastien, and not-so-secret admirer, Hart--in ways she’s successfully avoided with anyone for the past year. After faking her way through relationships for years, can Camille figure out how to be a true friend and reconnect with her buried love for theater? If she can, Grigsby might become the first true home she’s had since her parents split. If not, she’ll lose the chance to play the role of a lifetime--herself.
I am a member of SCBWI, and my non-fiction has been published in theSacramento
I appreciate your time and consideration. I’ve included the first five pages and synopsis below. The entire manuscript is available upon request.
Sincerely,
J.W.
STAGED
Of all the shirts Jake Bentley could’ve ruined, why did he have to choose the baby blue Sea World tee that used to be my dad’s?
I was so close to getting away, once and for all--to escaping the grip of Jake and the rest of them who know I owe them for not ratting me out. Who know I’ll laugh along when, for example, I’m on the receiving end of an exploding beer. The shirt is just the latest sacrifice.
I place it carefully on the laundry pile, even though I know it probably can’t handle another wash, and wrestle a fresh tank top from the top drawer of the secondhand dresser my mom bought me when we moved toGrigsby , Colorado
Zig Jensen comes down from his cabin in the mountains once a month to do three things: shop for things in the grocery store that he cannot kill or grow himself, visit his wife’s grave, and collect the rent. The fact that he’s here to bid us farewell confirms my theory that he has a soft spot for my mom. Maybe because she still has all her marbles and he has clearly lost a few of his.
I head to the dining room to get some of the tofu my mom has burned once again. But when I get there, she’s standing at the back door with Zig, thanking him and handing him a check, which makes no sense.
I'm seeking representation for my YA novel, STAGED, and wondered if you might be interested in adding it to your list. A couple of weeks ago, you tweeted that you'd like to see a story set somewhere unusual; this story, which centers around a fifteen-year-old girl who's drafted into a secret acting troupe, takes place largely in an abandoned theater. The novel would appeal to readers who enjoy E. Lockhart's humorous honesty and Sarah Dessen’s explorations into the intricacies of love and friendship. It is complete at 87,000 words.
Camille Galaway doesn’t take the job at run-down
Her plans to ditch the camp as soon as she gets paid are complicated when the owner’s bossy, brooding daughter, Luce, ropes Camille into joining her troupe of actors, the Blissters, who secretly meet at the camp’s old off-limits theater at night. When Camille’s dad becomes Divorcees’ surprise star, the curtain falls on her plan to go home, and she starts to connect with the other actors--especially leading man, Sebastien, and not-so-secret admirer, Hart--in ways she’s successfully avoided with anyone for the past year. After faking her way through relationships for years, can Camille figure out how to be a true friend and reconnect with her buried love for theater? If she can, Grigsby might become the first true home she’s had since her parents split. If not, she’ll lose the chance to play the role of a lifetime--herself.
I am a member of SCBWI, and my non-fiction has been published in the
I appreciate your time and consideration. I’ve included the first five pages and synopsis below. The entire manuscript is available upon request.
Sincerely,
J.W.
STAGED
Of all the shirts Jake Bentley could’ve ruined, why did he have to choose the baby blue Sea World tee that used to be my dad’s?
I was so close to getting away, once and for all--to escaping the grip of Jake and the rest of them who know I owe them for not ratting me out. Who know I’ll laugh along when, for example, I’m on the receiving end of an exploding beer. The shirt is just the latest sacrifice.
I place it carefully on the laundry pile, even though I know it probably can’t handle another wash, and wrestle a fresh tank top from the top drawer of the secondhand dresser my mom bought me when we moved to
Zig Jensen comes down from his cabin in the mountains once a month to do three things: shop for things in the grocery store that he cannot kill or grow himself, visit his wife’s grave, and collect the rent. The fact that he’s here to bid us farewell confirms my theory that he has a soft spot for my mom. Maybe because she still has all her marbles and he has clearly lost a few of his.
I head to the dining room to get some of the tofu my mom has burned once again. But when I get there, she’s standing at the back door with Zig, thanking him and handing him a check, which makes no sense.
An Agent's Inbox #16
Dear Ms. Shea,
I'm eighteen-year-old Lora Winters, and currently I'm on the run from an international mob called the Fleur de Lis.
Actually, I didn't mind the kidnapping attempt that took place in the middle of my Christmas shopping. I mean, when you consider that my parents value their careers over their only daughter, and that all my classmates are prep school snobs, then running for my life sounds like a welcome change from the monotony of high school. (Besides, having a 24/7 bodyguard kind of kills a social life.)
With a price on my head and a target on my back, I'm sent to TRUST, a secret agency inLondon
I transform from straight A senior to butt-kicking secret agent, stealing Vespas(and kisses) inParis , and
knocking out a full-grown man in Milan
LORA WINTERS AND THE FLEUR DE LIS is an 89,000 word YA mystery and might appeal to fans of Ally Carter. Since listed on your website that you are interested in interesting settings and a character on a unique journey, I thought you might be interested.
I would be delighted to send the full manuscript at your request. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
R.H.
LORA WINTERS AND THE FLEUR DE LIS
Chapter One: Christmas Shopping
Winter inBoston
"Martin, bring the car around!" Cole yelled into his earpiece as he ran beside me down the crowded sidewalk. He pushed through shopping families and tourists who looked appalled as he squeezed past them with me following right behind him. One woman cried out as I brushed against her, but I didn't stop to say sorry as I rushed on. I kind of had a lot to deal with at the moment.
"Lora and I will meet you at the end of the block!" Cole was shouting to Martin, our driver. Cole and I had planned on Christmas shopping in downtownBoston
As we broke through the crowd outside a popular candy shop, I took a second to glance behind me. Several feet down the sidewalk, amid the crowds of shoppers all bundled up in winter coats and scarves, was a tall, thin man who towered over the sea of people. He was easy to spot with his curly red hair, thick red beard, and a face that looked pale even against the snow-capped roofs.
I'm eighteen-year-old Lora Winters, and currently I'm on the run from an international mob called the Fleur de Lis.
Actually, I didn't mind the kidnapping attempt that took place in the middle of my Christmas shopping. I mean, when you consider that my parents value their careers over their only daughter, and that all my classmates are prep school snobs, then running for my life sounds like a welcome change from the monotony of high school. (Besides, having a 24/7 bodyguard kind of kills a social life.)
With a price on my head and a target on my back, I'm sent to TRUST, a secret agency in
I transform from straight A senior to butt-kicking secret agent, stealing Vespas(and kisses) in
LORA WINTERS AND THE FLEUR DE LIS is an 89,000 word YA mystery and might appeal to fans of Ally Carter. Since listed on your website that you are interested in interesting settings and a character on a unique journey, I thought you might be interested.
I would be delighted to send the full manuscript at your request. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
R.H.
LORA WINTERS AND THE FLEUR DE LIS
Chapter One: Christmas Shopping
Winter in
"Martin, bring the car around!" Cole yelled into his earpiece as he ran beside me down the crowded sidewalk. He pushed through shopping families and tourists who looked appalled as he squeezed past them with me following right behind him. One woman cried out as I brushed against her, but I didn't stop to say sorry as I rushed on. I kind of had a lot to deal with at the moment.
"Lora and I will meet you at the end of the block!" Cole was shouting to Martin, our driver. Cole and I had planned on Christmas shopping in downtown
As we broke through the crowd outside a popular candy shop, I took a second to glance behind me. Several feet down the sidewalk, amid the crowds of shoppers all bundled up in winter coats and scarves, was a tall, thin man who towered over the sea of people. He was easy to spot with his curly red hair, thick red beard, and a face that looked pale even against the snow-capped roofs.
An Agent's Inbox #15
Dear Katie,
Thanks for participating in this contest. I share your enthusiasm for realistic YA, so I'm happy to introduce my novel COMING UP NEXT.
If you want to meet your father, get on the plane.
When high school grad Jason Wells gets this IM, life as he knows it is turned upside down: he’s never known who his father is. So why now? And what’s with the jet?
Things get even more surreal when Jason learns that his long-lost dad is family TV icon Alex Reno, who’s headline news after getting caught with his pants down (literally) with his 20-year-old costar. The twist is, Alex finds out about Jason for the first time, too--he had a one-night fling with Jason’s mom, and she never told either of them.
The network flies Jason toL.A.
COMING UP NEXT is my debut novel, but I’ve been a WGA member since 1997. I worked for several years as a screenwriter and TV writer under the tutelage of Diane English (creator of Murphy Brown and writer/director of The Women), and I've spent the past decade or so in the advertising trenches as a copywriter and art director. You can interact with me on Twitter or via my blog IsThereSomethingIShouldKnow.tumblr.com.
Per the contest rules, the first 250 words follow the break. Thank you for your consideration, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Best regards,
J.K.
COMING UP NEXT
If you want to meet your father, get on the plane.
The text looks like any other, black words in a pill-shaped bubble on my phone, but the gravity of what it means lands like a punch to the stomach. I’ve never known who my dad is. It sounds like some Bible belt hillbilly joke, but getting pregnant at twenty wasn’t something my mom planned on, and I’m the nine-month dividend of her forgotten one-night stand. She swears she never regretted her decision to keep me, but nobody wants to check the “single mom” box on career day. It's something we don't talk about.
My heart’s pounding. A sleek white jet sits inside the airfield, and a guy who must be the pilot stands beside it. He adjusts his aviators. Somewhere in the distance a dog barks.
I read the text again. Who sent it? And why? Why now?
Just what I need. I start college at the end of summer, but instead of being this chill new adventure, the thought of it makes my stomach hurt. My girlfriend Charlie’s got big plans for us--coordinated schedules, matching Greek houses, an apartment together as upperclassmen--all the premeditations she mapped out (literally, in PowerPoint on her dad’s laptop) when we started going out junior year. Back then it was exhilarating having a girl like Charlie imagine a future with me, but I don’t want anybody flowcharting the next four years of my life before I even go through freshman orientation.
Thanks for participating in this contest. I share your enthusiasm for realistic YA, so I'm happy to introduce my novel COMING UP NEXT.
If you want to meet your father, get on the plane.
When high school grad Jason Wells gets this IM, life as he knows it is turned upside down: he’s never known who his father is. So why now? And what’s with the jet?
Things get even more surreal when Jason learns that his long-lost dad is family TV icon Alex Reno, who’s headline news after getting caught with his pants down (literally) with his 20-year-old costar. The twist is, Alex finds out about Jason for the first time, too--he had a one-night fling with Jason’s mom, and she never told either of them.
The network flies Jason to
COMING UP NEXT is my debut novel, but I’ve been a WGA member since 1997. I worked for several years as a screenwriter and TV writer under the tutelage of Diane English (creator of Murphy Brown and writer/director of The Women), and I've spent the past decade or so in the advertising trenches as a copywriter and art director. You can interact with me on Twitter or via my blog IsThereSomethingIShouldKnow.tumblr.com.
Per the contest rules, the first 250 words follow the break. Thank you for your consideration, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Best regards,
J.K.
COMING UP NEXT
If you want to meet your father, get on the plane.
The text looks like any other, black words in a pill-shaped bubble on my phone, but the gravity of what it means lands like a punch to the stomach. I’ve never known who my dad is. It sounds like some Bible belt hillbilly joke, but getting pregnant at twenty wasn’t something my mom planned on, and I’m the nine-month dividend of her forgotten one-night stand. She swears she never regretted her decision to keep me, but nobody wants to check the “single mom” box on career day. It's something we don't talk about.
My heart’s pounding. A sleek white jet sits inside the airfield, and a guy who must be the pilot stands beside it. He adjusts his aviators. Somewhere in the distance a dog barks.
I read the text again. Who sent it? And why? Why now?
Just what I need. I start college at the end of summer, but instead of being this chill new adventure, the thought of it makes my stomach hurt. My girlfriend Charlie’s got big plans for us--coordinated schedules, matching Greek houses, an apartment together as upperclassmen--all the premeditations she mapped out (literally, in PowerPoint on her dad’s laptop) when we started going out junior year. Back then it was exhilarating having a girl like Charlie imagine a future with me, but I don’t want anybody flowcharting the next four years of my life before I even go through freshman orientation.
An Agent's Inbox #14
Dear Ms. Shea,
I love the fact that you are a published writer and an ambitiousJersey girl. But I’m super excited
that you love fiction involving serious personal themes. I hope you will enjoy
UNRAVELED, a 55,000-word YA mystery. It’s a stand-alone with adoption-theme
potential.
Taylor Taylor Taylor Taylor
I’m a member of the Society and Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI), Romance Writers of America (RWA), and focus on writing through Writer’sDigest
University
Thank you for your time and consideration.
R.L.
UNRAVELED
I grew up lucky. Lived in a big house, had my own room, had my own cell phone, had Daddy’s credit card number memorized. The list goes on. Except for number thirty-six: swap Mom for Nancy Kline.Nancy
“This is it.” I couldn’t keep the grin off my face when I saw the strapless dress hanging insideNancy
I stood in front of her full-length mirror in the gown, fidgeting and wishing I had bigger...
“Taylor Nancy
“No. Really?” Hello, sparkle.
I ran into the room and pulled the second drawer out as far as it would go. While removing the wooden honey-colored jewelry box, I noticed something stuck to the bottom. Without tearing it, the official looking paper came loose, and so did I. My adrenaline started pumping fast and this little voice in my head said, ‘No, don’t read.’ But, the rest of me said, ‘Heck yes, read.’
I love the fact that you are a published writer and an ambitious
I’m a member of the Society and Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI), Romance Writers of America (RWA), and focus on writing through Writer’s
Thank you for your time and consideration.
R.L.
UNRAVELED
I grew up lucky. Lived in a big house, had my own room, had my own cell phone, had Daddy’s credit card number memorized. The list goes on. Except for number thirty-six: swap Mom for Nancy Kline.
“This is it.” I couldn’t keep the grin off my face when I saw the strapless dress hanging inside
I stood in front of her full-length mirror in the gown, fidgeting and wishing I had bigger...
“
“No. Really?” Hello, sparkle.
I ran into the room and pulled the second drawer out as far as it would go. While removing the wooden honey-colored jewelry box, I noticed something stuck to the bottom. Without tearing it, the official looking paper came loose, and so did I. My adrenaline started pumping fast and this little voice in my head said, ‘No, don’t read.’ But, the rest of me said, ‘Heck yes, read.’
An Agent's Inbox #13
Dear Ms. Shea,
High school graduation: Check. College Apps: Check. Actually deciding where to start the rest of your life: Uhhh.
For Ryan, deciding where to go to college is easy: he lets someone else choose. His girlfriend Marcy’s the planner, not him. And he’d rather not think about all the changes graduating and leaving home will bring. Then their chosen school, Texas Central, cuts their soccer program. One more thing he’ll have to give up now that high school’s done. But he doesn’t think there’s anything he can do about it. He’s already committed to both TC and Marcy.
His neighbor Summer learned the hard way that avoiding decisions doesn’t make them go away. Like last June, when she missed her chance to cross the friends’ line with Ryan. She’s spent the last year avoiding him, denying the mistake she made--but that has to stop. She has one more of year of high school, but Ryan’s leaving soon. It’s time she let go of the past and fixed their derailed friendship--especially since she might be the only one who can help him figure out what he wants from the future.
If Ryan and Summer can’t learn to start calling the shots in their own lives, they’ll never reach their goals--and they’ll all end up where they don’t belong. UNDECIDED, a 60,000-word YA contemporary novel, should appeal to fans of Susane Colasanti and Jenny Han.
Sincerely,
M.G.
UNDECIDED
His music is too loud--not exactly a problem, except that it’s louder than mine. I jack up my iPod. My tiny speakers can’t drown out the noise.
Especially since they aren’t just competing with music, but laughter, splashing, screams. Fun. That’s what’s on the other side of the fence.
My phone buzzes and skitters across the swing’s seat. Amber’s name flashes on the screen, followed almost immediately by Max’s. Their texts are identical. She’s headed to his house, his parents are headed out, I can come if I want.
Half an invitation from each that doesn’t add up to a whole.
Can’t make it, I text back. Family movie night.
Not a complete lie. The windows flicker with light from a DVD.
I give up the fight with the music and shut mine off. Despite the dark sky, the air is hot.
I could join my parents, but instead I stay outside, between my house and Ryan’s, pushing myself in the swing, digging my bare toes into the grass, listening to the party I’m definitely not invited to.
Until the soccer ball lands in my lap.
I clutch it and blink into the darkness, trying to see if anyone’s there to claim it.
A head pops over the back fence, followed by a body, which lands with a two-footed thump on my side.
“Nice one, man,” Ryan yells over the fence, then jogs toward me.
I could throw the ball back, but I wait for him to come to me.
High school graduation: Check. College Apps: Check. Actually deciding where to start the rest of your life: Uhhh.
For Ryan, deciding where to go to college is easy: he lets someone else choose. His girlfriend Marcy’s the planner, not him. And he’d rather not think about all the changes graduating and leaving home will bring. Then their chosen school, Texas Central, cuts their soccer program. One more thing he’ll have to give up now that high school’s done. But he doesn’t think there’s anything he can do about it. He’s already committed to both TC and Marcy.
His neighbor Summer learned the hard way that avoiding decisions doesn’t make them go away. Like last June, when she missed her chance to cross the friends’ line with Ryan. She’s spent the last year avoiding him, denying the mistake she made--but that has to stop. She has one more of year of high school, but Ryan’s leaving soon. It’s time she let go of the past and fixed their derailed friendship--especially since she might be the only one who can help him figure out what he wants from the future.
If Ryan and Summer can’t learn to start calling the shots in their own lives, they’ll never reach their goals--and they’ll all end up where they don’t belong. UNDECIDED, a 60,000-word YA contemporary novel, should appeal to fans of Susane Colasanti and Jenny Han.
Sincerely,
M.G.
UNDECIDED
His music is too loud--not exactly a problem, except that it’s louder than mine. I jack up my iPod. My tiny speakers can’t drown out the noise.
Especially since they aren’t just competing with music, but laughter, splashing, screams. Fun. That’s what’s on the other side of the fence.
My phone buzzes and skitters across the swing’s seat. Amber’s name flashes on the screen, followed almost immediately by Max’s. Their texts are identical. She’s headed to his house, his parents are headed out, I can come if I want.
Half an invitation from each that doesn’t add up to a whole.
Can’t make it, I text back. Family movie night.
Not a complete lie. The windows flicker with light from a DVD.
I give up the fight with the music and shut mine off. Despite the dark sky, the air is hot.
I could join my parents, but instead I stay outside, between my house and Ryan’s, pushing myself in the swing, digging my bare toes into the grass, listening to the party I’m definitely not invited to.
Until the soccer ball lands in my lap.
I clutch it and blink into the darkness, trying to see if anyone’s there to claim it.
A head pops over the back fence, followed by a body, which lands with a two-footed thump on my side.
“Nice one, man,” Ryan yells over the fence, then jogs toward me.
I could throw the ball back, but I wait for him to come to me.
An Agent's Inbox #12
Dear Katie:
I was delighted to see that you are judging this contest. Last year, you requested my women’s fiction manuscript, GENTLY USED, first as a partial and then in full, but ultimately passed. Since then, I have made significant revisions to address your concerns with the plot and pacing, which were echoed by other agents who considered the material. I know you have since changed agencies and are building your client list, so I wondered if you may be interested in taking another look at GENTLY USED.
Behind the doors of Hourglass Vintage, every garment has a story--a textured and sometimes tumultuous past. So, too, do the women who work and shop there. Violet Turner, the boutique's owner, knows the personal history behind each item in her store, from a Chanel suit to a Bakelite cocktail ring. Yet when it comes to her own life, she’s determined never to revisit her troubled past, even if it means forever closing off her heart.
April Morgan, a sales clerk and high school senior, is halfway through an unplanned pregnancy when her boyfriend calls off their hasty engagement. The perfect 1950's wedding dress April had planned to wear now hangs limp in the store's back room, ignored, just like her dreams.
Shop customer Amithi Singh has struggled to share the traditions of her nativeIndia
Hourglass Vintage, the place where these unlikely women become friends, is a shop riddled with financial woes. If Violet, April and Amithi can’t save it, the shop will be forgotten like the costume jewelry and crinoline gowns on its sales floor.
An excerpt from GENTLY USED won the ninth "Dear Lucky Agent" contest on Chuck Sambuchino's Guide to Literary Agents site and the April "Mystery Agent" contest on the Operation Awesome blog. The manuscript is complete at 80,000 words and ready to send upon request.
Sincerely,
S.G.
GENTLY USED
Beneath the ash trees onJohnson Street
She sighed as undergraduates with bright scarves and red faces rushed by without glancing at her or the garments on display. Gray spring days like this one were all about hurrying and practicality, and Violet had never liked either concept. People in practical moods didn't wander into the shop to buy turn-of-the-century kid gloves or 1930s Bakelite jewelry.
Violet bent down to put espadrille sandals on the mannequin. When she stood up, a pair of blue eyes stared back at her. A girl, no older than twenty, stood inches from the window, clutching a 1950s wedding dress against her fleece jacket.
Violet remembered that the girl had come in just a few weeks earlier, trying on half a dozen gowns before selecting the full-skirted one she held now, which flapped in the wind like a surrender flag.
The girl entered the store and spread the dress on the register counter. “I need to return this."
“I’m sorry, we don’t allow returns,” Violet said. She took her place behind the counter and felt a blast of heat from the old radiator affixed to the wall. She peeled off her cardigan, a find from her grandmother’s closet, revealing a tattoo of a phoenix on her left shoulder.
I was delighted to see that you are judging this contest. Last year, you requested my women’s fiction manuscript, GENTLY USED, first as a partial and then in full, but ultimately passed. Since then, I have made significant revisions to address your concerns with the plot and pacing, which were echoed by other agents who considered the material. I know you have since changed agencies and are building your client list, so I wondered if you may be interested in taking another look at GENTLY USED.
Behind the doors of Hourglass Vintage, every garment has a story--a textured and sometimes tumultuous past. So, too, do the women who work and shop there. Violet Turner, the boutique's owner, knows the personal history behind each item in her store, from a Chanel suit to a Bakelite cocktail ring. Yet when it comes to her own life, she’s determined never to revisit her troubled past, even if it means forever closing off her heart.
April Morgan, a sales clerk and high school senior, is halfway through an unplanned pregnancy when her boyfriend calls off their hasty engagement. The perfect 1950's wedding dress April had planned to wear now hangs limp in the store's back room, ignored, just like her dreams.
Shop customer Amithi Singh has struggled to share the traditions of her native
Hourglass Vintage, the place where these unlikely women become friends, is a shop riddled with financial woes. If Violet, April and Amithi can’t save it, the shop will be forgotten like the costume jewelry and crinoline gowns on its sales floor.
An excerpt from GENTLY USED won the ninth "Dear Lucky Agent" contest on Chuck Sambuchino's Guide to Literary Agents site and the April "Mystery Agent" contest on the Operation Awesome blog. The manuscript is complete at 80,000 words and ready to send upon request.
Sincerely,
S.G.
GENTLY USED
Beneath the ash trees on
She sighed as undergraduates with bright scarves and red faces rushed by without glancing at her or the garments on display. Gray spring days like this one were all about hurrying and practicality, and Violet had never liked either concept. People in practical moods didn't wander into the shop to buy turn-of-the-century kid gloves or 1930s Bakelite jewelry.
Violet bent down to put espadrille sandals on the mannequin. When she stood up, a pair of blue eyes stared back at her. A girl, no older than twenty, stood inches from the window, clutching a 1950s wedding dress against her fleece jacket.
Violet remembered that the girl had come in just a few weeks earlier, trying on half a dozen gowns before selecting the full-skirted one she held now, which flapped in the wind like a surrender flag.
The girl entered the store and spread the dress on the register counter. “I need to return this."
“I’m sorry, we don’t allow returns,” Violet said. She took her place behind the counter and felt a blast of heat from the old radiator affixed to the wall. She peeled off her cardigan, a find from her grandmother’s closet, revealing a tattoo of a phoenix on her left shoulder.
An Agent's Inbox #11
Dear Ms. Shea,
By the time seventeen-year-oldTyler Falls
Tyler
Emma Perez's brother, Ethan Giovanni, sits in a mental institution for the murder of Dr. and Mrs. Falls. Deemed mentally incompetent and unfit to stand trial, Ethan has one weekly visitor--Emma. She doesn't deny his guilt, he's her brother and even though he's paranoid schizophrenic doesn't mean she has to stop loving him.
They say when you cross paths with someone more than once, it's fate--you're destined to meet.Tyler
doesn't know Emma is Ethan's sister, and Emma doesn't know Tyler Tyler
I am pleased to submit for your considerationTYLER FALLS TYLER FALLS
My second novel, a MG fantasy, was recently picked up by a small local publishing house inSt.
Louis TYLER FALLS
I've included the first 250 words below. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
L.L.C.
TYLER
FALLS
Tyler
Jacob Falls
This is my assignment for summer. The special school I attend--not short bus special--and my shrink Dr. Dynerbaugh co-conspired against me. They think this will be great therapy, part of the healing process, for me to put my thoughts and feelings down on these pages since talking about it doesn't seem to help.
I've got news for them; there are more pages in this empty journal than I have days left. Sure, there might be some days when I have more to say. Like today. Today's entry will be longer because my assignment is to talk about myself. Who I am and a brief history of my life. That way, when somebody reads it later they'll understand what was going through my head and why.
I'm not supposed to just talk about things like the weather. Or current events around the world. It's all supposed to be about me and my life.
I'm seventeen and live with my aunt and uncle onLoon Island
My parents were murdered--on Valentine's Day.
By the time seventeen-year-old
Emma Perez's brother, Ethan Giovanni, sits in a mental institution for the murder of Dr. and Mrs. Falls. Deemed mentally incompetent and unfit to stand trial, Ethan has one weekly visitor--Emma. She doesn't deny his guilt, he's her brother and even though he's paranoid schizophrenic doesn't mean she has to stop loving him.
They say when you cross paths with someone more than once, it's fate--you're destined to meet.
I am pleased to submit for your consideration
My second novel, a MG fantasy, was recently picked up by a small local publishing house in
I've included the first 250 words below. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
L.L.C.
This is my assignment for summer. The special school I attend--not short bus special--and my shrink Dr. Dynerbaugh co-conspired against me. They think this will be great therapy, part of the healing process, for me to put my thoughts and feelings down on these pages since talking about it doesn't seem to help.
I've got news for them; there are more pages in this empty journal than I have days left. Sure, there might be some days when I have more to say. Like today. Today's entry will be longer because my assignment is to talk about myself. Who I am and a brief history of my life. That way, when somebody reads it later they'll understand what was going through my head and why.
I'm not supposed to just talk about things like the weather. Or current events around the world. It's all supposed to be about me and my life.
I'm seventeen and live with my aunt and uncle on
My parents were murdered--on Valentine's Day.
An Agent's Inbox #10
Dear Ms. Shea,
If George Konvolinka doesn't get a wrestling scholarship,
he'll end up bussing tables at Mr. Greek, his family's restaurant, and worse,
living with his parents. Which would be intolerable even if his mother didn't
dress like a teenaged skank, and his father didn't throw chairs at the matches.
His sister Dorrie made it out of Waterboro unscathed (he
thinks), and George is on track to do the same. But the new surfer-dude
dishwasher that George recruited for the team, Clive Duval, turns out to be a
former state champion, and wants George's spot.
When his mother amps up her flirting with Clive, George
becomes a head case on the mat. It doesn't help that the coach is on Clive's
side, and that Erin Breedlove, the team manager, has breasts he can detect
under her baggy sweatshirt.
At Thanksgiving, Dorrie comes home thirty pounds thinner and
his mom is thrilled she's a size zero, whatever the f*** that is. But when
George hears his sister throwing up in their Jack and Jill bathroom, he knows
something is wrong.
George must choose between helping Dorrie with her eating
disorder and wrestling for his scholarship.
My writing has been published in anthologies and newspapers,
including the Christian Science Monitor and the Chattanooga Free Press.
I am seeking representation for THE NEAR FALL, my young
adult novel, complete at 58,000 words.
Thank you so much for your consideration.
Sincerely,
F.R.
THE NEAR FALL
I have thirty seconds. My thighs are on fire, but I crouch
low to the mat and circle him, moving in and out quickly. I shoot in and grab
his leg, then explode up through his body. Again. And again.
Sweat streams into my eyes, but I couldn't see him clearly
even if he was really there. I watch him, my imaginary opponent, as Three Doors Down plays Kryptonite in the corner of the gym. If I go crazy now will you still call me
Superman? I check the clock and go again. I'm on my two hundredth shot when
I feel a jolt of electricity right behind my elbow. I lose my balance, and
stumble in the middle of the take down. I look at my time; 199 take downs in
twenty minutes. I failed.
She should have warned me. Made a noise. Stomped her f******
Eskimo boots. Something. She's lucky I didn't jab her in the eyeball.
"What?"
Erin Breedlove taps her ear, and I take my ear buds out. I
don't know what to say. I should have said something earlier, back last spring
when it happened. Her sister OD'ed and woke up dead. Or didn't wake up at all,
rather. Heroin. I don't bring it up.
"What?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to
let you know I'm here. Didn't want to freak you out if you saw me in the
office." She jerks her head toward the little glassed-in room in the
corner of the gym.
An Agent's Inbox #9
Dear Katie Shea,
From Krista Van Dolzer's blog (Mother. Write.) and the Donald Maass website, I learned you are seeking realistic YA, character-driven stories. The Art of Holding On and Letting Go is a 77,000 word, young adult, coming-of-age story with a rock-climbing female protagonist.
After a climbing accident inEcuador ,
a sixteen-year-old uber-nature girl is forced to abandon her California
mountain home to live with her grandparents in Detroit
I have a master's degree in social work and over ten years experience working with children, teens, and families. I co-edit the SCBWI-MI newsletter and contribute to the YA Fusion blog with a group of YA authors. The Art of Holding On and Letting Go won first place in the 2011 Chicago North RWA Fire and Ice contest. TheHunger Mountain
The first page of The Art of Holding On and Letting Go is pasted below. I appreciate your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
K.L.
THE ART OF HOLDING ON AND LETTING GO
Part I:Ecuador
My teammate, Becky, stood next to me. She had climbed earlier, but fell off a hold a few feet from the top.
“You’re lucky your parents aren’t here,” Becky said. “Mine are making me way nervous.”
“Just don’t look at them before you climb,” I said.
My parents never made me nervous, but there was something freeing about being here by myself, as a serious competitor, and not as the daughter of top mountaineers Mark and Lori Jenkins.
“At least your parents have a life,” Becky said. “My mother would never leave me alone in a foreign country.”
Mom hadn’t been comfortable leaving me either. We’d debated our plan for weeks, but in the end, I had insisted. Mom should go on theChimborazo expedition with Dad and Uncle Max.
“I’m fine being here with Coach and our team,” I told Becky. “Besides, my parents will be back by the finals.”
“What if we don’t make it to finals?” Becky said.
I arched an eyebrow at her. I didn’t know about Becky, but I would make it to finals.
“Cara Jenkins,” the announcer called, “age sixteen, fromCalifornia , the United States of America
I stepped away from Becky, shaking off our conversation. I took a deep breath, twinkled my fingers, and scanned the route.
From Krista Van Dolzer's blog (Mother. Write.) and the Donald Maass website, I learned you are seeking realistic YA, character-driven stories. The Art of Holding On and Letting Go is a 77,000 word, young adult, coming-of-age story with a rock-climbing female protagonist.
After a climbing accident in
I have a master's degree in social work and over ten years experience working with children, teens, and families. I co-edit the SCBWI-MI newsletter and contribute to the YA Fusion blog with a group of YA authors. The Art of Holding On and Letting Go won first place in the 2011 Chicago North RWA Fire and Ice contest. The
The first page of The Art of Holding On and Letting Go is pasted below. I appreciate your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
K.L.
THE ART OF HOLDING ON AND LETTING GO
Part I:
My teammate, Becky, stood next to me. She had climbed earlier, but fell off a hold a few feet from the top.
“You’re lucky your parents aren’t here,” Becky said. “Mine are making me way nervous.”
“Just don’t look at them before you climb,” I said.
My parents never made me nervous, but there was something freeing about being here by myself, as a serious competitor, and not as the daughter of top mountaineers Mark and Lori Jenkins.
“At least your parents have a life,” Becky said. “My mother would never leave me alone in a foreign country.”
Mom hadn’t been comfortable leaving me either. We’d debated our plan for weeks, but in the end, I had insisted. Mom should go on the
“I’m fine being here with Coach and our team,” I told Becky. “Besides, my parents will be back by the finals.”
“What if we don’t make it to finals?” Becky said.
I arched an eyebrow at her. I didn’t know about Becky, but I would make it to finals.
“Cara Jenkins,” the announcer called, “age sixteen, from
I stepped away from Becky, shaking off our conversation. I took a deep breath, twinkled my fingers, and scanned the route.
An Agent's Inbox #8
Dear Ms. Shea,
Since you mentioned that you’re looking for heartfelt, emotional, realistic, dramatic, family-related, character-driven stories, I thought you might be interested in THE BOYFRIEND PLAGUE.
Things at home are rough for fifteen-year-old Livvie Quinn. Jules, her beloved older sister is sick again after being cancer free for almost ten years. Her mom becomes more frantic and unapproachable every day. School isn’t much better. Just when she needs them most, her closest friends get boyfriends and have little time for Livvie--except to set her up on a series of disastrous blind dates.
Livvie seeks refuge in the art room and finds Bianca, the school ‘freak’. Free-spirited and confident, Bianca is everything Livvie isn’t. Shaken by her mom’s desperation, her sister’s deteriorating condition, and abandoned by her friends, Livvie finds comfort and an attraction she never felt before with Bianca.
When their relationship is discovered, Livvie and Bianca become victims of persecution and bullying. School authorities won’t help and even forbid the pair to attend the Winter Formal as a couple. If Livvie defies them and goes, she risks expulsion and further ridicule from her classmates. At home, her mother’s behavior escalates to new levels of crazy and Jules is begging for help to end the pain once and for all.
While searching for the strength to make her life her own, Livvie must decide how far she’s willing to go for the people she loves.
THE BOYFRIEND PLAGUE is an 84000 word contemporary YA novel that should appeal to readers who enjoyed Cris Beam’s I Am J and Cheryl Rainfields’s Scars.
My short stories have appeared in Halfway Down The Stairs, A Fly in Amber, Daily Flash Anthology, The Barrier Islands Review, Death Rattle, Drastic Measures, Rapunzel’s Daughters and Cutlass and Musket--Tales of Piratical Skullduggery among others.
Per your submission requirements, you will find the first page of the manuscript below. I would be delighted to send you further sample chapters at your request. Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Regards,
K.L.
THE BOYFRIEND PLAGUE
I squirmed on the wooden bench, trying to avoid getting poked by loose splinters. The room was too small and the irregular buzzing that crept over the lopsided swinging doors set my teeth on edge. Each burst sent a cloud of rusty orange scattering through my skull.
“Is this okay, Livvie?” Mel leaned over and pressed a slip of paper onto my knee.
I studied it for a moment, still trying to shake off the burning color my synesthesia had painted the world. “Yeah. It’s perfect.” I grinned at her, but my lips trembled so much I’m sure it was more a grimace.
“What about yours?” Mel turned to Hannah who had her paper crumpled in her fist.
She smoothed it out against the taut fabric of her jeans. “It’s good. I don’t think Mom could tell she hadn’t signed it.”
Mel sighed and glanced down at her own scrap of paper. “At least they’re all different. And how close are they going to look?”
Hannah’s eyes roved the enclosed space, photographs curling on every wall. “It’s a business right? They want to make money. I bet they just ask for these things ‘cos they have to.”
“You’re probably right.” Mel stood up and folded her permission slip back into her pocket. “I wish they’d hurry up.”
“Me too.” I shifted again, my butt numbing against the hard surface. Coming here had seemed a good idea, but now, after almost half an hour on the wrong side of the doors, the stinging scent of rubbing alcohol drifting across us, I wasn’t so sure.
Since you mentioned that you’re looking for heartfelt, emotional, realistic, dramatic, family-related, character-driven stories, I thought you might be interested in THE BOYFRIEND PLAGUE.
Things at home are rough for fifteen-year-old Livvie Quinn. Jules, her beloved older sister is sick again after being cancer free for almost ten years. Her mom becomes more frantic and unapproachable every day. School isn’t much better. Just when she needs them most, her closest friends get boyfriends and have little time for Livvie--except to set her up on a series of disastrous blind dates.
Livvie seeks refuge in the art room and finds Bianca, the school ‘freak’. Free-spirited and confident, Bianca is everything Livvie isn’t. Shaken by her mom’s desperation, her sister’s deteriorating condition, and abandoned by her friends, Livvie finds comfort and an attraction she never felt before with Bianca.
When their relationship is discovered, Livvie and Bianca become victims of persecution and bullying. School authorities won’t help and even forbid the pair to attend the Winter Formal as a couple. If Livvie defies them and goes, she risks expulsion and further ridicule from her classmates. At home, her mother’s behavior escalates to new levels of crazy and Jules is begging for help to end the pain once and for all.
While searching for the strength to make her life her own, Livvie must decide how far she’s willing to go for the people she loves.
THE BOYFRIEND PLAGUE is an 84000 word contemporary YA novel that should appeal to readers who enjoyed Cris Beam’s I Am J and Cheryl Rainfields’s Scars.
My short stories have appeared in Halfway Down The Stairs, A Fly in Amber, Daily Flash Anthology, The Barrier Islands Review, Death Rattle, Drastic Measures, Rapunzel’s Daughters and Cutlass and Musket--Tales of Piratical Skullduggery among others.
Per your submission requirements, you will find the first page of the manuscript below. I would be delighted to send you further sample chapters at your request. Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Regards,
K.L.
THE BOYFRIEND PLAGUE
I squirmed on the wooden bench, trying to avoid getting poked by loose splinters. The room was too small and the irregular buzzing that crept over the lopsided swinging doors set my teeth on edge. Each burst sent a cloud of rusty orange scattering through my skull.
“Is this okay, Livvie?” Mel leaned over and pressed a slip of paper onto my knee.
I studied it for a moment, still trying to shake off the burning color my synesthesia had painted the world. “Yeah. It’s perfect.” I grinned at her, but my lips trembled so much I’m sure it was more a grimace.
“What about yours?” Mel turned to Hannah who had her paper crumpled in her fist.
She smoothed it out against the taut fabric of her jeans. “It’s good. I don’t think Mom could tell she hadn’t signed it.”
Mel sighed and glanced down at her own scrap of paper. “At least they’re all different. And how close are they going to look?”
Hannah’s eyes roved the enclosed space, photographs curling on every wall. “It’s a business right? They want to make money. I bet they just ask for these things ‘cos they have to.”
“You’re probably right.” Mel stood up and folded her permission slip back into her pocket. “I wish they’d hurry up.”
“Me too.” I shifted again, my butt numbing against the hard surface. Coming here had seemed a good idea, but now, after almost half an hour on the wrong side of the doors, the stinging scent of rubbing alcohol drifting across us, I wasn’t so sure.
An Agent's Inbox #7
Dear Ms. Katie Shea,
I’m seeking representation for my contemporary young adult novel, THUMP, complete at 60,000 words. When sixteen-year-old Hailey Scott is diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, she thinks her heart will never be the same, but a chance encounter with drummer Declan changes everything.
Forced to give up her title of cheerleading captain and her brand-new driver’s license, Hailey accepts the fact that she has a life-threatening condition--one that can result in sudden cardiac arrest. So when her music-obsessed best friend, Leah, convinces her to sneak into a club to see Madison Avenue, the hottest new local band, Hailey decides she might as well live it up while she still can. Once there, Hailey crashes into Declan, high school dropout and drummer for Madison Avenue, whose wild but rhythmic beats make Hailey’s heart thump.
Together, Hailey and Declan wreak havoc through the mall, crash the homecoming dance, and search for the perfect snare drum. She keeps her condition a secret, navigating their relationship around her disease and her overprotective mom. As the walls of Hailey’s heart grow weaker, slowly strangling the life from her, she decides to take the risk, and fall in love one last time.
Sure to appeal to Stephanie Perkins’ readers and fans of the movie adaptation of A Walk to Remember, THUMP takes a unique and heart-pounding look at growing up and falling in love while coping with a life-altering illness.
Thank you for your time and consideration. If you are interested, I would be delighted to send you additional sample chapters or my complete manuscript.
Sincerely,
V.C.
THUMP
I didn’t need a fancy doctor to tell me my heart was broken. It shattered when I found out Bradley was cheating on me. So, the diagnosis was only a matter of time.
That’s why tonight is so important.
“I’m just staying the night at Leah’s.”
“I don’t know…” My mom’s worried--as she should be. If it were up to her, I’d be strapped to a hospital bed, hooked up to a bunch of bleeping machines reporting every single one of my body’s levels and functions.
If my parents knew where I was really going tonight, they’d be mad. Really, really mad. Like murder-me-themselves-instead-of-waiting-for-the-inevitable mad.
“All we’re going to do is watch movies. And make popcorn.” I look at my dad with big, pleading eyes. 'Like good, healthy girls do.'
“Hailey,” he says in that way that makes me feel like I’m five. “I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.” My mom nods in agreement. I open my mouth to say something, but he holds up a hand. “I mean, I think you should take it easy. At least for tonight.”
“I can take it easy at Leah’s house.” I know I’m talking too fast. I’m going to blow this. “I promise, I won’t overexert myself. I’ll lie around all night. We’ll go to bed early. And I’ll--”
There’s a honk in the driveway, and I flash him one more desperate look. 'Please, please just let me have one more night. This night. Tonight.'
I’m seeking representation for my contemporary young adult novel, THUMP, complete at 60,000 words. When sixteen-year-old Hailey Scott is diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, she thinks her heart will never be the same, but a chance encounter with drummer Declan changes everything.
Forced to give up her title of cheerleading captain and her brand-new driver’s license, Hailey accepts the fact that she has a life-threatening condition--one that can result in sudden cardiac arrest. So when her music-obsessed best friend, Leah, convinces her to sneak into a club to see Madison Avenue, the hottest new local band, Hailey decides she might as well live it up while she still can. Once there, Hailey crashes into Declan, high school dropout and drummer for Madison Avenue, whose wild but rhythmic beats make Hailey’s heart thump.
Together, Hailey and Declan wreak havoc through the mall, crash the homecoming dance, and search for the perfect snare drum. She keeps her condition a secret, navigating their relationship around her disease and her overprotective mom. As the walls of Hailey’s heart grow weaker, slowly strangling the life from her, she decides to take the risk, and fall in love one last time.
Sure to appeal to Stephanie Perkins’ readers and fans of the movie adaptation of A Walk to Remember, THUMP takes a unique and heart-pounding look at growing up and falling in love while coping with a life-altering illness.
Thank you for your time and consideration. If you are interested, I would be delighted to send you additional sample chapters or my complete manuscript.
Sincerely,
V.C.
THUMP
I didn’t need a fancy doctor to tell me my heart was broken. It shattered when I found out Bradley was cheating on me. So, the diagnosis was only a matter of time.
That’s why tonight is so important.
“I’m just staying the night at Leah’s.”
“I don’t know…” My mom’s worried--as she should be. If it were up to her, I’d be strapped to a hospital bed, hooked up to a bunch of bleeping machines reporting every single one of my body’s levels and functions.
If my parents knew where I was really going tonight, they’d be mad. Really, really mad. Like murder-me-themselves-instead-of-waiting-for-the-inevitable mad.
“All we’re going to do is watch movies. And make popcorn.” I look at my dad with big, pleading eyes. 'Like good, healthy girls do.'
“Hailey,” he says in that way that makes me feel like I’m five. “I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.” My mom nods in agreement. I open my mouth to say something, but he holds up a hand. “I mean, I think you should take it easy. At least for tonight.”
“I can take it easy at Leah’s house.” I know I’m talking too fast. I’m going to blow this. “I promise, I won’t overexert myself. I’ll lie around all night. We’ll go to bed early. And I’ll--”
There’s a honk in the driveway, and I flash him one more desperate look. 'Please, please just let me have one more night. This night. Tonight.'
An Agent's Inbox #6
Dear Ms. Shea,
Sixteen year old Barbara Wisnewski doubted her life could get any suckier. But when her totally dysfunctional parents seem to get their lives together she discovers she’s not part of the equation; homelessness and destitution are staring her right in her freckled face.
Left to fend for herself in her poverty-stricken upstateNew York town, Barb’s BGFF, Murrow, offers her the chance
of escape when he is sent to live with his father in London
Barb learns of a teen pregnancy crisis in another town, and the awesome benefits those unwed moms-to-be receive, including a place to live. In a moment of brilliance, she thinks she has found the way out. Barb enlists a group of other disenfranchised schoolmates to form a Pregnancy Pact and decides the arrival of a visiting touring motorcycle club will help them get what they want.
MOTORCYCLE BABIES is 46,000 words of YA commercial fiction told through Barb’s diary entries. I believe it ticks all of the boxes you mentioned: heartfelt, emotional, realistic, dramatic, family-related, and character-driven. Barb's unique life situation and setting will take you through a journey of heartache and hardship to come to a beautiful conclusion.
I am a member of SCBWI. A number of my short stories have been published and a humorous play I wrote (adapted from my novella) was produced.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
M.V.
MOTORCYCLE BABIES
Dear Diary,
I hate my life and nearly everyone in it. Don't know why Mom gave me this diary. Like I should document my rollicking fun life for posterity. Yeah, right. Stuck in this s***hole with nothing to do. New-frigging-Krumpsberg, for G**’s sake. This wasn’t even a stop on the Underground Railroad--not even desperate slaves would want to stay here.
Then there’s my father. A total waste of space. Seriously. He just sucks the life out of the room, drinking and yelling at the TV, 24/7. I wish he'd just die and leave us alone. Then me and mom could enjoy ourselves for a change. She works two s***** jobs ‘cause he refuses to work. Maybe she does it to keep away from him. That's why I work after school and weekends at Aunt Pitty Pat’s--the only decent restaurant in town--just to be out of this mad haunted house. It's not haunted by ghosts--that might actually be kind of fun--it's haunted by him and his constant belching and farting. I could tape a s***load of those pine tree air fresheners to him and he’d still reek like a dumpster.
Mom says the Waste of Space (she doesn't call him that, she calls him, ‘Your father,’ which sincerely makes my skin crawl) has ‘emotional problems’. She makes air quotes when she says it, but not when she says, ‘your father’. He’s just a lazy a** drunk.
Now the deets about Murrow. My BFF. He’s gay.
Sixteen year old Barbara Wisnewski doubted her life could get any suckier. But when her totally dysfunctional parents seem to get their lives together she discovers she’s not part of the equation; homelessness and destitution are staring her right in her freckled face.
Left to fend for herself in her poverty-stricken upstate
Barb learns of a teen pregnancy crisis in another town, and the awesome benefits those unwed moms-to-be receive, including a place to live. In a moment of brilliance, she thinks she has found the way out. Barb enlists a group of other disenfranchised schoolmates to form a Pregnancy Pact and decides the arrival of a visiting touring motorcycle club will help them get what they want.
MOTORCYCLE BABIES is 46,000 words of YA commercial fiction told through Barb’s diary entries. I believe it ticks all of the boxes you mentioned: heartfelt, emotional, realistic, dramatic, family-related, and character-driven. Barb's unique life situation and setting will take you through a journey of heartache and hardship to come to a beautiful conclusion.
I am a member of SCBWI. A number of my short stories have been published and a humorous play I wrote (adapted from my novella) was produced.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
M.V.
MOTORCYCLE BABIES
Dear Diary,
I hate my life and nearly everyone in it. Don't know why Mom gave me this diary. Like I should document my rollicking fun life for posterity. Yeah, right. Stuck in this s***hole with nothing to do. New-frigging-Krumpsberg, for G**’s sake. This wasn’t even a stop on the Underground Railroad--not even desperate slaves would want to stay here.
Then there’s my father. A total waste of space. Seriously. He just sucks the life out of the room, drinking and yelling at the TV, 24/7. I wish he'd just die and leave us alone. Then me and mom could enjoy ourselves for a change. She works two s***** jobs ‘cause he refuses to work. Maybe she does it to keep away from him. That's why I work after school and weekends at Aunt Pitty Pat’s--the only decent restaurant in town--just to be out of this mad haunted house. It's not haunted by ghosts--that might actually be kind of fun--it's haunted by him and his constant belching and farting. I could tape a s***load of those pine tree air fresheners to him and he’d still reek like a dumpster.
Mom says the Waste of Space (she doesn't call him that, she calls him, ‘Your father,’ which sincerely makes my skin crawl) has ‘emotional problems’. She makes air quotes when she says it, but not when she says, ‘your father’. He’s just a lazy a** drunk.
Now the deets about Murrow. My BFF. He’s gay.
An Agent's Inbox #5
Dear Ms. Shea,
Because you are seeking to represent realistic YA novels with raw psychological grittiness and also coming-of-age stories, I believe you may be interested in my Contemporary Young Adult novel, Outside In (complete at 52,000 words).
Super-brain Alexis likes everything exactly so. Perfect prep school grades. School supplies arranged eight inches apart in parallel lines. Timed phone calls with her mother. Scheduled hook-ups with her boyfriend Ben on Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday nights. As long as her secret self-destructive streak is hidden, all is well.
But then Alexis receives a bright red B on an English paper, and endures an excruciating break-up with no explanation. And now parallel cuts run down her leg an inch apart, one for each day since Ben broke up with her. She bangs her head, burns herself--anything to soothe herself and assert some control.
When her friend Miranda accidentally glimpses her scars, Alexis feels even more trapped. Now she must survive weekly therapy sessions with a counselor, forced disclosure to her parents, and worst of all: dismissal from school if she doesn’t get better. It’s up to Alexis to pull herself out of the mire--if she even wants to.
As an educator and a teacher consultant for the National Writing Project, I know how much the stories of others can speak to teenagers trying to make sense of their own lives. Although there have been other novels about cutting (for example, Patricia McCormick’s Cut and Cheryl Rainfield’s Scars), Outside In examines the correlation between perfectionism and self-harm, a survival mechanism for intense pressure.
I am a member of several critique groups and also SCBWI.
Sincerely,
E.R.
OUTSIDE IN
A bright red B. Oh my G**. My lowest grade ever.
I rubbed my cheek as hard as I could and stuffed the paper into my binder. I didn’t bother to check the comments--plenty of time to memorize those later.
My throat closed up and I couldn’t draw a full breath. One full grade less than an A. My G.P.A. would sink. Miranda would pass me in class rank.
What would my mother say?
So stupid.
The bell rang, and Miranda and I headed to the door. Once we were in the hallway, she burst out, “I got an A! What about you?”
“Mmm,” I said, half-nodding.
She prattled on about her comments and each word stabbed at my stomach.
I couldn’t listen to her any longer, and escaped to the bathroom. I made it to the safety of a stall before the dam burst and the tears started flowing.
Why didn’t I work harder? I didn’t deserve an A anyway. Dummy, lazy, fat moron.
I jerked my left sleeve up. A paper clip would do, one of those big ones in my English binder. I uncurled the clip, molding the metal into a straight line. When my sleeve was up all the way, I scraped the clip back and forth across my fat upper arm until beads of blood popped up.
It wasn’t enough. I scraped four more times, changing the line into an angular B.
Shame on my body now too. The scratches would burn and remind me what I’d done. Exactly what I deserved.
Because you are seeking to represent realistic YA novels with raw psychological grittiness and also coming-of-age stories, I believe you may be interested in my Contemporary Young Adult novel, Outside In (complete at 52,000 words).
Super-brain Alexis likes everything exactly so. Perfect prep school grades. School supplies arranged eight inches apart in parallel lines. Timed phone calls with her mother. Scheduled hook-ups with her boyfriend Ben on Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday nights. As long as her secret self-destructive streak is hidden, all is well.
But then Alexis receives a bright red B on an English paper, and endures an excruciating break-up with no explanation. And now parallel cuts run down her leg an inch apart, one for each day since Ben broke up with her. She bangs her head, burns herself--anything to soothe herself and assert some control.
When her friend Miranda accidentally glimpses her scars, Alexis feels even more trapped. Now she must survive weekly therapy sessions with a counselor, forced disclosure to her parents, and worst of all: dismissal from school if she doesn’t get better. It’s up to Alexis to pull herself out of the mire--if she even wants to.
As an educator and a teacher consultant for the National Writing Project, I know how much the stories of others can speak to teenagers trying to make sense of their own lives. Although there have been other novels about cutting (for example, Patricia McCormick’s Cut and Cheryl Rainfield’s Scars), Outside In examines the correlation between perfectionism and self-harm, a survival mechanism for intense pressure.
I am a member of several critique groups and also SCBWI.
Sincerely,
E.R.
OUTSIDE IN
A bright red B. Oh my G**. My lowest grade ever.
I rubbed my cheek as hard as I could and stuffed the paper into my binder. I didn’t bother to check the comments--plenty of time to memorize those later.
My throat closed up and I couldn’t draw a full breath. One full grade less than an A. My G.P.A. would sink. Miranda would pass me in class rank.
What would my mother say?
So stupid.
The bell rang, and Miranda and I headed to the door. Once we were in the hallway, she burst out, “I got an A! What about you?”
“Mmm,” I said, half-nodding.
She prattled on about her comments and each word stabbed at my stomach.
I couldn’t listen to her any longer, and escaped to the bathroom. I made it to the safety of a stall before the dam burst and the tears started flowing.
Why didn’t I work harder? I didn’t deserve an A anyway. Dummy, lazy, fat moron.
I jerked my left sleeve up. A paper clip would do, one of those big ones in my English binder. I uncurled the clip, molding the metal into a straight line. When my sleeve was up all the way, I scraped the clip back and forth across my fat upper arm until beads of blood popped up.
It wasn’t enough. I scraped four more times, changing the line into an angular B.
Shame on my body now too. The scratches would burn and remind me what I’d done. Exactly what I deserved.
An Agent's Inbox #4
Dear Ms. Shea,
Secrets are what Sophie Winters does best. She never tells--no matter what. From hiding her drug addiction to keeping her sexuality under wraps, she’s an expert at deception.
But when her best friend, Mina, is killed in what seems like a drug deal gone wrong, only Sophie knows the truth: that the drugs were planted after the tragedy in an attempt to cast some of the blame on her. Before she can convince the authorities they’re looking for Mina’s killer in the wrong places, she’s shipped off to rehab by her distraught parents.
Haunted by Mina’s memory and the secrets they shared, Sophie returns home determined to learn the true circumstances surrounding the murder. But the closer Sophie gets to discovering the truth, the harder it is to keep their biggest secret safe. Now, with the killer running free and secrets surfacing, Sophie must choose: tell the truth, or take it to her grave.
Because of your interest in heartfelt and character-driven contemporary work with complex relationships, I'd like to submit HOW WE FELL for your consideration. It is a YA mystery complete at 66,000 words.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Best,
T.S.
HOW WE FELL
It doesn’t start here.
You’d think it would: two terrified girls, cringing together, eyes bulging at the reality of the gun in his hand.
But it doesn’t start here.
It starts the first time I almost die.
The first time, I’m fourteen. Trev’s driving us home from swim practice. We’re singing along to the radio in the back seat, and he’s laughing at us.
It happens fast: the screech of metal on metal, glass everywhere. I’m not wearing my seat belt and I pitch forward as Mina’s scream drowns out the radio.
Then everything’s black.
I don’t remember any more.
The second time, I remember everything. The beam of the car’s brights, his eyes glinting at us through his mask. How steady his finger was on that trigger. Mina’s hand was in mine; our nails dug into each other’s flesh.
After, I’d trace my fingers over those bloody half-moon marks and realize they were all I had left of her.
The first time, I wake in a hospital, hooked up to machines, with Mina standing next to me.
There’s a tube in my neck. I claw at it, frantic, and Mina grabs my hand away, ordering me to look at her. It takes me a second to meet her gray eyes, to focus enough to let her words sink in.
“You’re going to be fine,” she promises.
I stop fighting and trust her.
It’s only later that I realize she’s lying.
Secrets are what Sophie Winters does best. She never tells--no matter what. From hiding her drug addiction to keeping her sexuality under wraps, she’s an expert at deception.
But when her best friend, Mina, is killed in what seems like a drug deal gone wrong, only Sophie knows the truth: that the drugs were planted after the tragedy in an attempt to cast some of the blame on her. Before she can convince the authorities they’re looking for Mina’s killer in the wrong places, she’s shipped off to rehab by her distraught parents.
Haunted by Mina’s memory and the secrets they shared, Sophie returns home determined to learn the true circumstances surrounding the murder. But the closer Sophie gets to discovering the truth, the harder it is to keep their biggest secret safe. Now, with the killer running free and secrets surfacing, Sophie must choose: tell the truth, or take it to her grave.
Because of your interest in heartfelt and character-driven contemporary work with complex relationships, I'd like to submit HOW WE FELL for your consideration. It is a YA mystery complete at 66,000 words.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Best,
T.S.
HOW WE FELL
It doesn’t start here.
You’d think it would: two terrified girls, cringing together, eyes bulging at the reality of the gun in his hand.
But it doesn’t start here.
It starts the first time I almost die.
The first time, I’m fourteen. Trev’s driving us home from swim practice. We’re singing along to the radio in the back seat, and he’s laughing at us.
It happens fast: the screech of metal on metal, glass everywhere. I’m not wearing my seat belt and I pitch forward as Mina’s scream drowns out the radio.
Then everything’s black.
I don’t remember any more.
The second time, I remember everything. The beam of the car’s brights, his eyes glinting at us through his mask. How steady his finger was on that trigger. Mina’s hand was in mine; our nails dug into each other’s flesh.
After, I’d trace my fingers over those bloody half-moon marks and realize they were all I had left of her.
The first time, I wake in a hospital, hooked up to machines, with Mina standing next to me.
There’s a tube in my neck. I claw at it, frantic, and Mina grabs my hand away, ordering me to look at her. It takes me a second to meet her gray eyes, to focus enough to let her words sink in.
“You’re going to be fine,” she promises.
I stop fighting and trust her.
It’s only later that I realize she’s lying.
An Agent's Inbox #3
Dear Ms. Shea:
Samantha Cooper always believed that if you build it, he will come. Just like the whispering voice said in Field of Dreams, right? So she did. She earned good grades, made smart choices, and grew into the nice girl her mother’s friends adored. The picket fence and handsome husband had to follow. But as she approaches thirty, disillusionment has set in because nobody has come and apparently, all she has built is a lonely, empty life. So one day, Samantha Cooper tears the whole thing down.
In WILD CHERRIES, Samantha (Sam), an aspiring-writer/waitress in aCalifornia
WILD CHERRIES is women’s fiction and is approximately 84,000 words.
I am an English teacher and graduate of UCLA. I am a first-time novelist, but I’m committed to writing and willing to do whatever is necessary--editing and promoting--to work with you to get my writing published. I follow you on Twitter and appreciate your query tips. You said in the "Writer Unboxed" interview that as a little girl, your dream was to have a best-selling novel. Me, too. I hope that's something that can bring all of us--Samantha, you and I--together.
Thank you for taking the time to consider my work. Per the submission guidelines, the first 250 words are included below. The completed manuscript is available upon request. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
L.H.
WILD CHERRIES
I think I peaked in the sixth grade. As a writer, that is. Maybe romantically, too, considering that was the year of my epic first kiss with Collin Crosby, the boy who earned "cutest" honors in every yearbook from elementary school through high school. But definitely as a writer. Since that time, I’ve never come close to achieving the accolades I received during the springtime of that year.
Friday afternoons in Mr. Adamson’s sixth-grade class were devoted to Writer’s Workshop, a two-hour period when we hunched over our desks as we wrote and erased until we had finally come up with the perfect paper. Well, everyone but Ricky Simmons. He usually stared at Jenny Freeman the entire time; Jenny had been the first girl in our class to get boobs.
Writer’s Workshop was also the key to the best thing possible for a sixth-grade girl atMaple
Dale Elementary
School
So, I slaved away each Friday, hoping that on Monday I’d see my paper in the spotlight dressed with a brilliant gold star and start to plan out the perfect outfit to wear on my fake-date with Mr. Adamson.
There was always one problem, though: Susie Sloan.
Samantha Cooper always believed that if you build it, he will come. Just like the whispering voice said in Field of Dreams, right? So she did. She earned good grades, made smart choices, and grew into the nice girl her mother’s friends adored. The picket fence and handsome husband had to follow. But as she approaches thirty, disillusionment has set in because nobody has come and apparently, all she has built is a lonely, empty life. So one day, Samantha Cooper tears the whole thing down.
In WILD CHERRIES, Samantha (Sam), an aspiring-writer/waitress in a
WILD CHERRIES is women’s fiction and is approximately 84,000 words.
I am an English teacher and graduate of UCLA. I am a first-time novelist, but I’m committed to writing and willing to do whatever is necessary--editing and promoting--to work with you to get my writing published. I follow you on Twitter and appreciate your query tips. You said in the "Writer Unboxed" interview that as a little girl, your dream was to have a best-selling novel. Me, too. I hope that's something that can bring all of us--Samantha, you and I--together.
Thank you for taking the time to consider my work. Per the submission guidelines, the first 250 words are included below. The completed manuscript is available upon request. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
L.H.
WILD CHERRIES
I think I peaked in the sixth grade. As a writer, that is. Maybe romantically, too, considering that was the year of my epic first kiss with Collin Crosby, the boy who earned "cutest" honors in every yearbook from elementary school through high school. But definitely as a writer. Since that time, I’ve never come close to achieving the accolades I received during the springtime of that year.
Friday afternoons in Mr. Adamson’s sixth-grade class were devoted to Writer’s Workshop, a two-hour period when we hunched over our desks as we wrote and erased until we had finally come up with the perfect paper. Well, everyone but Ricky Simmons. He usually stared at Jenny Freeman the entire time; Jenny had been the first girl in our class to get boobs.
Writer’s Workshop was also the key to the best thing possible for a sixth-grade girl at
So, I slaved away each Friday, hoping that on Monday I’d see my paper in the spotlight dressed with a brilliant gold star and start to plan out the perfect outfit to wear on my fake-date with Mr. Adamson.
There was always one problem, though: Susie Sloan.
An Agent's Inbox #2
Dear Ms. Shea,
Sometimes you have to freeze everyone out to avoid getting burned.
Sydney Sydney
Sydney Sydney Sydney Sydney
Corbin likesSydney Sydney Sydney
FROSTY is a contemporary young adult novel, complete at 51,000 words. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
S.R.
FROSTY
My ears tingled from the biting wind and swirling snow, but I stayed outside to smoke. The caseworker thought I was nuts, but I liked the cold. It numbed me…relaxed me. Besides, I couldn’t smoke inside--those were the rules.
After finishing a second cigarette, my nerves were calm. Jim pulled up in a dark Mercedes. Cool--none of my former foster families were wealthy. I met him and Lana a week ago, but not their daughter Brooke. This time the caseworker suggested placing me in a family with a teenage girl. As if me and Brooke would be close friends, and my senior year would be the best ever. I was smart enough to know that would never happen. My goal was to get through these last six months with the Claytons, and I’d be on my own.
The light spilled out of Jim’s car, and he opened his mouth to say something. Instead, he shook his head and laid his hand on my shoulder, guiding me inside.
“Good evening,Sydney
Um, not really, Jim. Kind of crappy outside. Didn’t you notice the blizzard?
We sat down to do some paperwork, and Jim wrinkled up his nose. He must not be a smoker. I checked out the bare gray room as the caseworker shuffled through a stack of papers. Why did these meetings always take place in dark and dreary rooms? Didn’t they have enough light bulbs around here?
Sometimes you have to freeze everyone out to avoid getting burned.
Corbin likes
FROSTY is a contemporary young adult novel, complete at 51,000 words. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
S.R.
FROSTY
My ears tingled from the biting wind and swirling snow, but I stayed outside to smoke. The caseworker thought I was nuts, but I liked the cold. It numbed me…relaxed me. Besides, I couldn’t smoke inside--those were the rules.
After finishing a second cigarette, my nerves were calm. Jim pulled up in a dark Mercedes. Cool--none of my former foster families were wealthy. I met him and Lana a week ago, but not their daughter Brooke. This time the caseworker suggested placing me in a family with a teenage girl. As if me and Brooke would be close friends, and my senior year would be the best ever. I was smart enough to know that would never happen. My goal was to get through these last six months with the Claytons, and I’d be on my own.
The light spilled out of Jim’s car, and he opened his mouth to say something. Instead, he shook his head and laid his hand on my shoulder, guiding me inside.
“Good evening,
Um, not really, Jim. Kind of crappy outside. Didn’t you notice the blizzard?
We sat down to do some paperwork, and Jim wrinkled up his nose. He must not be a smoker. I checked out the bare gray room as the caseworker shuffled through a stack of papers. Why did these meetings always take place in dark and dreary rooms? Didn’t they have enough light bulbs around here?
An Agent's Inbox #1
Dear Ms. Shea,
In several interviews, you've stated a desire for character-driven fiction with strong emotion. With that in mind I would like to introduce you to Chris Burke, the protagonist of PARALLEL LIVES, a story of friendship, forgiveness, and accepting responsibility for your actions.
Chris Burke is a Good Guy. He helps out his aging parents. He counsels troubled teens. But he’s also that Chris Burke, the one who killed James LaValle thirty years ago. Chris has paid his debt to society and rebuilt his life. He wants to put the past behind him and live anonymously. And then Madison Cooper calls.
Madison Madison
Complete at 93,000 words, PARALLEL LIVES is a work of Literary/Commercial fiction and will appeal to readers who enjoyed HOTEL ON THE CORNER OF BITTER AND SWEET. The full manuscript is available on request. Thank you for your consideration.
Regards,
J.O.
PARALLEL LIVES
My arms and shoulders burned as they hoisted my body up and down. I took deep, controlled breaths, filling and emptying my lungs with each repetition. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, at my hairline. As I lowered myself, a drop rolled down the side of my nose, held to the tip, and fell, leaving a dark spot on the gray carpet.
“Thirty-two…thirty-three….”
A nightly ritual. Push ups. Sit ups. Squats. I didn’t have free weights to lift, but that was alright. I wasn’t interested in sculpting my body. This wasn’t done to impress anyone. I did it to stay in shape, for the benefits of mind and body, and because, like any habit, good or bad, it was hard to break.
“Thirty-five….”
The phone shrilled, its irritating electronic chirp gnawing at my concentration. I didn’t want to interrupt the rhythm of my exercises--fifteen more push-ups and I could rest--but nighttime calls worried me. It was too late in the evening for telemarketers, too late in the year for campaign calls, and too late in my life for a “Hey, let’s meet at the bar for a beer.” Late phone calls used to be a way of life. The older you get the more often they seem to bring bad news. I hustled across the small apartment to the kitchen, drying my face with the bottom of my shirt as I went, and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
At first there was nothing but the sound of an open line, maybe some music, faint in the background.
In several interviews, you've stated a desire for character-driven fiction with strong emotion. With that in mind I would like to introduce you to Chris Burke, the protagonist of PARALLEL LIVES, a story of friendship, forgiveness, and accepting responsibility for your actions.
Chris Burke is a Good Guy. He helps out his aging parents. He counsels troubled teens. But he’s also that Chris Burke, the one who killed James LaValle thirty years ago. Chris has paid his debt to society and rebuilt his life. He wants to put the past behind him and live anonymously. And then Madison Cooper calls.
Complete at 93,000 words, PARALLEL LIVES is a work of Literary/Commercial fiction and will appeal to readers who enjoyed HOTEL ON THE CORNER OF BITTER AND SWEET. The full manuscript is available on request. Thank you for your consideration.
Regards,
J.O.
PARALLEL LIVES
My arms and shoulders burned as they hoisted my body up and down. I took deep, controlled breaths, filling and emptying my lungs with each repetition. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, at my hairline. As I lowered myself, a drop rolled down the side of my nose, held to the tip, and fell, leaving a dark spot on the gray carpet.
“Thirty-two…thirty-three….”
A nightly ritual. Push ups. Sit ups. Squats. I didn’t have free weights to lift, but that was alright. I wasn’t interested in sculpting my body. This wasn’t done to impress anyone. I did it to stay in shape, for the benefits of mind and body, and because, like any habit, good or bad, it was hard to break.
“Thirty-five….”
The phone shrilled, its irritating electronic chirp gnawing at my concentration. I didn’t want to interrupt the rhythm of my exercises--fifteen more push-ups and I could rest--but nighttime calls worried me. It was too late in the evening for telemarketers, too late in the year for campaign calls, and too late in my life for a “Hey, let’s meet at the bar for a beer.” Late phone calls used to be a way of life. The older you get the more often they seem to bring bad news. I hustled across the small apartment to the kitchen, drying my face with the bottom of my shirt as I went, and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
At first there was nothing but the sound of an open line, maybe some music, faint in the background.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Now Accepting Entries
UPDATE: And we have our 20 entries as of 7:30 p.m. EDT (or 4:30 p.m. PDT) on Tuesday, April 24! Look for those entries to go up tomorrow!
I’m now accepting entries for April’s round of “An Agent’s Inbox”! Here’s a quick refresher:
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. ANYONE MAY ENTER THIS ROUND OF “AN AGENT’S INBOX.” Even if you entered one of last year’s rounds, you may still enter this one, either with the same or a different manuscript. Furthermore, anyone who enters April’s round of “An Agent’s Inbox” WILL STILL BE ELIGIBLE TO ENTER “THE WRITER’S VOICE” NEXT MONTH, so you don’t have to choose.
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 10:00 A.M. EDT (OR 7:00 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.
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.
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.
Women’s fiction
Adult commercial fiction (like Audrey Niffenegger's THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE, Nicholas Sparks's THE NOTEBOOK, and Kathryn Stockett's THE HELP)
Adult literary fiction
Memoir (like Jeannette Walls's THE GLASS CASTLE and Elizabeth Gilbert's EAT, PRAY, LOVE)
Realistic YA fiction
I’m now accepting entries for April’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. ANYONE MAY ENTER THIS ROUND OF “AN AGENT’S INBOX.” Even if you entered one of last year’s rounds, you may still enter this one, either with the same or a different manuscript. Furthermore, anyone who enters April’s round of “An Agent’s Inbox” WILL STILL BE ELIGIBLE TO ENTER “THE WRITER’S VOICE” NEXT MONTH, so you don’t have to choose.
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 10:00 A.M. EDT (OR 7:00 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.
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, Katie Shea* of Donald Maass Literary Agency, will select both the winners and the prizes. She might pick 20 winners,
or she might only pick one. She 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
Women’s fiction
Adult commercial fiction (like Audrey Niffenegger's THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE, Nicholas Sparks's THE NOTEBOOK, and Kathryn Stockett's THE HELP)
Adult literary fiction
Memoir (like Jeannette Walls's THE GLASS CASTLE and Elizabeth Gilbert's EAT, PRAY, LOVE)
Realistic YA fiction
A few more thoughts from Ms. Shea on what she's looking for:
"Specifically I am looking for fiction--heartfelt, emotional, realistic,
dramatic, family-related, character-driven stories. A strong voice must be
present. I want to connect with the main character; I will go anywhere with
them. I love interesting settings and time periods, BUT nothing past the 20th
century.
"I'm looking for female (or male) characters with unique
life situations they are going through, but take us through a journey of
heartache and hardship to come to a beautiful conclusion, while involving
in-depth personal relationships with others who join them in their journey. I
love love, but this must be true love, real love, love that I can feel
through the pages, with sincere passion and longevity."
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 Ms. Shea has already rejected
your query, YOU PROBABLY DON’T WANT TO ENTER UNLESS YOU’VE MADE SIGNIFICANT
CHANGES TO YOUR QUERY AND/OR MANUSCRIPT. I’m not going to say you can’t enter
(mostly because I have no way to police it), 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, April 20, 2012
"An Agent's Inbox" Contest Alert
THIS IS NOT A CALL FOR ENTRIES! I'M JUST GIVING YOU A
HEADS-UP. THE CONTEST OPENS NEXT MONDAY, APRIL 23.
It’s been a while since we did one of these, so here’s a quick refresher. “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, April 23, and then I'll post them next Wednesday, April 25. The entrants and anyone else who wishes to review them may comment until the following Monday, April 30, when I'll announce the winners.
Those winners will be chosen by The Agent, and this month, The Agent is Katie Shea* of Donald Maass Literary 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. ANYONE MAY ENTER THIS ROUND OF “AN AGENT’S INBOX.” Even if you entered one of last year’s rounds, you may still enter this one, either with the same or a different manuscript. Furthermore, anyone who enters April’s round of “An Agent’s Inbox” WILL STILL BE ELIGIBLE TO ENTER “THE WRITER’S VOICE” NEXT MONTH, so you don’t have to choose.
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 10:00 A.M. EDT (OR 7:00 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.
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, April 23, at 10:00 a.m. EDT! At that time, you may send your entries to kvandolzer(at)gmail(dot)com. Looking forward to it!
The Genres
Women’s fiction
Adult commercial fiction (like Audrey Niffenegger's THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE, Nicholas Sparks's THE NOTEBOOK, and Kathryn Stockett's THE HELP)
Adult literary fiction
Memoir (like Jeannette Walls's THE GLASS CASTLE and Elizabeth Gilbert's EAT, PRAY, LOVE)
Realistic YA fiction
*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 Ms. Shea has already rejected your query, YOU PROBABLY DON’T WANT TO ENTER UNLESS YOU’VE MADE SIGNIFICANT CHANGES TO YOUR QUERY AND/OR MANUSCRIPT. I’m not going to say you can’t enter (mostly because I have no way to police it), 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.
It’s been a while since we did one of these, so here’s a quick refresher. “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, April 23, and then I'll post them next Wednesday, April 25. The entrants and anyone else who wishes to review them may comment until the following Monday, April 30, when I'll announce the winners.
Those winners will be chosen by The Agent, and this month, The Agent is Katie Shea* of Donald Maass Literary 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. ANYONE MAY ENTER THIS ROUND OF “AN AGENT’S INBOX.” Even if you entered one of last year’s rounds, you may still enter this one, either with the same or a different manuscript. Furthermore, anyone who enters April’s round of “An Agent’s Inbox” WILL STILL BE ELIGIBLE TO ENTER “THE WRITER’S VOICE” NEXT MONTH, so you don’t have to choose.
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 10:00 A.M. EDT (OR 7:00 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.
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, April 23, at 10:00 a.m. EDT! At that time, you may send your entries to kvandolzer(at)gmail(dot)com. Looking forward to it!
The Genres
Women’s fiction
Adult commercial fiction (like Audrey Niffenegger's THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE, Nicholas Sparks's THE NOTEBOOK, and Kathryn Stockett's THE HELP)
Adult literary fiction
Memoir (like Jeannette Walls's THE GLASS CASTLE and Elizabeth Gilbert's EAT, PRAY, LOVE)
Realistic YA fiction
A few more thoughts from Ms. Shea on what she's looking for: "Specifically I am looking for fiction--heartfelt, emotional, realistic, dramatic, family-related, character-driven stories. A strong voice must be present. I want to connect with the main character; I will go anywhere with them. I love interesting settings and time periods, BUT nothing past the 20th century.
"I'm looking for female (or male) characters with unique life situations they are going through, but take us through a journey of heartache and hardship to come to a beautiful conclusion, while involving in-depth personal relationships with others who join them in their journey. I love love, but this must be true love, real love, love that I can feel through the pages, with sincere passion and longevity."
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 Ms. Shea has already rejected your query, YOU PROBABLY DON’T WANT TO ENTER UNLESS YOU’VE MADE SIGNIFICANT CHANGES TO YOUR QUERY AND/OR MANUSCRIPT. I’m not going to say you can’t enter (mostly because I have no way to police it), 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.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
My Latest Obsession
 |
| "Monster" Chittick's on the left |
I got into genealogy about six months ago, not long after I heard an awesome talk on the subject. I thought it would be a nice thing to fill my Sunday afternoons, since Honey Bear has a bunch of meetings and my kids are super-sleepers. I never realized it would turn into such a quest--or bring so many little miracles into my life.
I e-mailed my only living grandparent, my father’s mother, and asked her a few basic questions about her parents and grandparents. The e-mail I got back was long and detailed, complete with attached pictures that she’d scanned herself. (My grandma’s eighty-five, by the way. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?) I couldn’t believe the wealth of information I’d discovered. But mostly, I couldn’t believe it’d taken me so long to ask.
Almost right away, one of the names stood out to me. It was my grandma’s grandpa’s name, my great-great-grandfather’s, Monster Chittick, who'd immigrated to the
Then I noticed that his birthday was January 11, 1863.
I felt like someone had plugged my finger into an electrical outlet. Because I have my kids by C-section, I already had a pretty good idea of when our Monster would be born. And according to my calculations, we were going to do the C-section on January 11, 2012, Monster Chittick’s one hundred and forty-ninth birthday.
I suggested the name to Honey Bear in combination with his grandpa’s middle name, since his grandpa’s birthday is January 9. He was a little resistant to the idea at first, mostly because he hadn’t come up with it himself (and I’d come up with all our kids’ names), but after a while, he caught the vision of the thing. And now we have our little Monster, who shares a birthday and a name with his great-great-great-grandfather.
That’s the beauty of family history. It brings the generations of a family together.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
"The Writer's Voice" Details
“The Writer’s Voice” is a multi-blog, multi-agent contest
hosted by Cupid of Cupid’s Literary Connection, Brenda Drake of Brenda Drake Writes, Monica B.W. of Love YA, and me. We’re basing it on NBC’s singing reality show The Voice, so the four
of us will serve as coaches and select projects for our teams based on their
queries and first pages.
Here’s the timeline:
Submissions
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 following genres:
Adult Fantasy
Adult Science Fiction
Adult Romance
YA fiction (all subgenres)
MG fiction (all subgenres)
We’ll accept entries in two time slots. The first submission window will open at 9:00 a.m. EDT on Thursday, May 3, and will close once we receive 75 entries. The second submission window will open at 9:00 p.m. EDT on the same day and will close once we receive another 75 entries.
We’ll accept submissions via one of Mister Linky’s Magical Widgets, which we’ll post on all four of our blogs on May 3. Once you sign up for the blogfest, you’ll post YOUR QUERY and THE FIRST 250 WORDS of your manuscript on your blog. Then you’ll send your query, first 250 words, and A LINK TO YOUR BLOG POST in the body of an e-mail to TheWritersVoiceContest(at)gmail(dot)com, with your blogfest number, title, and genre in the subject line.
In summary, you must follow these three steps to enter:
1. Sign up for the blogfest during one of the submission windows listed above.
2. Post your query and the first 250 words of your manuscript on your blog.
3. Send your query, first 250 words, and a link to your blog post to TheWritersVoiceContest(at)gmail(dot)com, with your blogfest number, title, and genre in the subject line.
Selections
We’re building our teams via “The Writer’s Voice” Blogfest, so YOU MUST HAVE A BLOG TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS CONTEST. We don’t care if you’ve had it for five years or five minutes; we just want to be able to fight over you in public:)
We coaches will review the entries by e-mail, but when we find one we want, we’ll leave a comment on your post that says something like, “I want you!” If more than one of us wants you on her team, you’ll have to pick which coach you want to work with.
Coaching
We’ll select our 10 team members by May 10, then spend the next week helping them put a final polish on their entries. You won’t have to take all of our suggestions, of course; we just want to help you make your entry the best that it can be before the agents get a look at it.
Voting
On May 17, we’ll post our team members’ queries and first pages on our blogs so that the agents can review them. Here are the 8 awesome agents who’ll be voting on your entries:
Louise Fury of L. Perkins Agency
Susan Hawk of The Bent Agency
Tricia Lawrence of Erin Murphy Literary Agency
Kevan Lyon of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency
Lauren MacLeod of The Strothman Agency
Taylor Martindale ofFull Circle
Andrea Somberg of Harvey Klinger, Inc.
Roseanne Wells of Marianne Strong Literary Agency
The agents will vote for their favorites on May 21. Each vote will count as a partial or full request depending on how many votes the entry receives. If an entry receives 1 or 2 votes, those votes will count as partial requests. If an entry receives 3 or more votes, those votes will count as full requests.
Voting will stay open for twenty-four hours, at which point we’ll determine which coach’s team received the most votes. That coach will win bragging rights for time immemorial, and everyone who received requests will be able to submit their materials to all the agents who voted for them.
So get those queries and first pages polished up, then meet us back here on Thursday, May 3, at either 9:00 a.m. or 9:00 p.m. EDT. We can’t wait to read your entries! (And of course, if you have any questions, feel free to ask them in the comments below.)
Here’s the timeline:
|
May 3
|
Everyone submits their entries
|
|
May 3-10
|
We select our team members from “The Writer’s Voice” Blogfest
|
|
May 10-17
|
We coach our team members, helping them polish their
entries
|
|
May 17
|
We post our team members’ entries on our blogs
|
|
May 21
|
Agents vote for their favorites
|
Submissions
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 following genres:
Adult Fantasy
Adult Science Fiction
Adult Romance
YA fiction (all subgenres)
MG fiction (all subgenres)
We’ll accept entries in two time slots. The first submission window will open at 9:00 a.m. EDT on Thursday, May 3, and will close once we receive 75 entries. The second submission window will open at 9:00 p.m. EDT on the same day and will close once we receive another 75 entries.
We’ll accept submissions via one of Mister Linky’s Magical Widgets, which we’ll post on all four of our blogs on May 3. Once you sign up for the blogfest, you’ll post YOUR QUERY and THE FIRST 250 WORDS of your manuscript on your blog. Then you’ll send your query, first 250 words, and A LINK TO YOUR BLOG POST in the body of an e-mail to TheWritersVoiceContest(at)gmail(dot)com, with your blogfest number, title, and genre in the subject line.
In summary, you must follow these three steps to enter:
1. Sign up for the blogfest during one of the submission windows listed above.
2. Post your query and the first 250 words of your manuscript on your blog.
3. Send your query, first 250 words, and a link to your blog post to TheWritersVoiceContest(at)gmail(dot)com, with your blogfest number, title, and genre in the subject line.
Selections
We’re building our teams via “The Writer’s Voice” Blogfest, so YOU MUST HAVE A BLOG TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS CONTEST. We don’t care if you’ve had it for five years or five minutes; we just want to be able to fight over you in public:)
We coaches will review the entries by e-mail, but when we find one we want, we’ll leave a comment on your post that says something like, “I want you!” If more than one of us wants you on her team, you’ll have to pick which coach you want to work with.
Coaching
We’ll select our 10 team members by May 10, then spend the next week helping them put a final polish on their entries. You won’t have to take all of our suggestions, of course; we just want to help you make your entry the best that it can be before the agents get a look at it.
Voting
On May 17, we’ll post our team members’ queries and first pages on our blogs so that the agents can review them. Here are the 8 awesome agents who’ll be voting on your entries:
Louise Fury of L. Perkins Agency
Susan Hawk of The Bent Agency
Tricia Lawrence of Erin Murphy Literary Agency
Kevan Lyon of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency
Lauren MacLeod of The Strothman Agency
Taylor Martindale of
Andrea Somberg of Harvey Klinger, Inc.
Roseanne Wells of Marianne Strong Literary Agency
The agents will vote for their favorites on May 21. Each vote will count as a partial or full request depending on how many votes the entry receives. If an entry receives 1 or 2 votes, those votes will count as partial requests. If an entry receives 3 or more votes, those votes will count as full requests.
Voting will stay open for twenty-four hours, at which point we’ll determine which coach’s team received the most votes. That coach will win bragging rights for time immemorial, and everyone who received requests will be able to submit their materials to all the agents who voted for them.
So get those queries and first pages polished up, then meet us back here on Thursday, May 3, at either 9:00 a.m. or 9:00 p.m. EDT. We can’t wait to read your entries! (And of course, if you have any questions, feel free to ask them in the comments below.)
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