An Agent's Inbox #7

Dear Ms. Nelson,

All Lucas Evans wanted was to make his father proud. So when his dad dies days after Lucas singlehandedly loses the championship game, Lucas feels he’ll never have the chance to make things right again.

In BROKEN, a 71,000 word YA novel, football is the furthest thing from Lucas’s mind. But a little urging from his best friend, Weeds, as well as from Emily, the mysterious girl he met during his dad’s chemo, draws him back into the sport. As the season progresses, the hits keep coming, both on and off the field. By the time the championship rolls around once again, Lucas understands that holding on to his past leaves no room for his future, and that his life is far from the only one that’s broken. Can he win the game and, with it, redemption for himself? Or will he drop the ball again, losing not only the game, but those he holds most dear?

After graduating from the University of Arkansas with an MA in English, I have spent the last few years of my life teaching teenagers and still have most of my sanity somewhat intact. When I’m not teaching, I am an active participant in SCBWI, enjoying the perks of being a real-life wallflower and testing the human body’s ability to survive on a diet made up exclusively of dark chocolate.

Thank you for your time. I have included the first page of my manuscript, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

B.M.


BROKEN

Two hours into Dad’s fourth round of chemo, I watched as a sickly yellow liquid oozed into his body through a matchbox-sized port the doctors had implanted in his chest. He lay on his back, trembling. Before this, he’d been a tall man with laughing eyes. Now the laughter was gone, replaced by a terrible weariness. 

One of the nurses came in. As she checked to see how Dad was responding to his treatment, he asked her if he could have some water to drink. I volunteered to get it--I was sick of sitting in that chair.

Standing at the water cooler, I noticed the door to one of the other rooms was open. I could see a girl about my age inside getting chemo. And as I filled the cup, I wondered how she’d look if she had hair--immediately becoming ashamed at the thought. No one else was with her, so she just stared out the door, looking lonely. I gave an awkward wave, spilling water onto my pants. Embarrassed, I turned and sped back to Dad’s room.

The nurse had already unplugged him. I handed him the water, helping his shaky hands steady the cup.

“Lucas, would you help me with your father?” the nurse asked. “Dr. Matthews wants to speak to him privately.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I nodded, taking Dad’s hand in my own. Although the room itself was cold, I was immediately stricken with how icy and damp his hand was--and how terribly weak.