An Agent's Inbox #11

Dear Ms. Smith:

After 16-year-old social-nobody Olivia is stunned by not one, but two random kisses from guys claiming to be her boyfriend, she discovers she’s somehow jumping between alternate versions of her life, each shaped by decisions she made--or didn’t--in her past. Along with an increasing slew of boys, she also finds her grandma still alive, a baby sister she never had before and a new position at the top of the junior class.

She has everything she ever wanted, sort of. If only she could control the jumps. And stop finding so many new sides to her best friend Drew. She barely recognizes this boy who spouts crazy sci-fi theories or plays in a rock band.

She knows she can’t switch between the alternate-Olivias forever. The more she tries to juggle, the more she drops. If she keeps switching realities, she’s going to mess up the alter-Olivias' lives as badly as she must've messed up the original. The only way to make it stop is to choose where to land for good--back in her normal life, or in one of the new ones. But none of her options give her everything, and deciding where to stay will mean losing more than one person she loves.

PIECES OF ME, YA light sci-fi, is complete at 65,000 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,
M.G.


PIECES OF ME

Choosing what to have for breakfast won’t change my life, but I’ve never been good at making decisions. I drum my fingers on the kitchen counter, staring at the fridge covered in family photos. Waffles or cereal? My stomach growls. Waffles. With strawberries. You only live once. I open the freezer as Drew honks outside. D***. I don’t have time. Granola bar then.

I shut the freezer and my head swims for a moment, blurring the last photo of Grandma in her garden to a blob of purple and green. I blink and shake it off, then grab the box of NatureOne bars from the cluttered pantry.

The toaster oven dings. What in the…I go to check. Two toasted waffles sit on the metal rack.

Mom and Dad are both gone before seven on Tuesdays, and Elliot’s still upstairs. Did I put those in when I first came down? I must be losing my mind. Or I’m still half asleep. Whatever, they look delicious. Drew can wait. I text him that I’ll be a minute and grab a plate.

I slather the waffles with butter and slice up strawberries. I’m just lifting my fork when my ten-year-old brother walks into the room. His sun-bleached hair sticks up in the back and he’s wearing his standard outfit of baggy soccer shorts and a random player’s jersey.

“Mmm, waffles. Are there more?” Elliot asks.

I shift my eyes. “In the freezer.”

He glances at the microwave clock, then groans and reaches for the cereal.

An Agent's Inbox #10

Dear Ms. Smith,

Eighteen-year-old Lilja is laser-sure of her dream to pilot a geimskip into orbit, but less sure of the changing relationship with her best friend, Finnur. She can’t have both, not when she’s applied for an internship on the space station with the Icelandic Power Corporation--a company whose geothermal power plant is a danger to Iceland, according to Finnur. When Lilja finds out that Finnur’s been planning to thwart the plant’s expansion behind her back, she doesn’t think twice about proving him wrong and accepting the internship.

During initial tests at the IPC’s space station, Lilja excels at the flying sims, putting her dream of piloting a geimskip within reach. But she soon discovers Finnur was right in his concerns--the IPC’s power plant is triggering earthquakes in Iceland. When she witnesses the murder of a fellow intern who uncovers how to permanently disable the plant from the Kraka geimskip, Lilja must find a way aboard the Kraka before an even greater earthquake destroys her hometown--and everyone in it.

Complete at 65,000 words, BRIGHTEST MIDNIGHT is a YA sci-fi with eco-thriller elements. My work has been published in Pugalicious Press’ TIMELESS anthology of YA historical romance and the SPAIN FROM A BACKPACK anthology, the Compass Media Rainbow Readers online reading series for children, as well as FACES, COBBLESTONE, and APPLESEEDS magazines.

Thank you for taking the time to consider this project.

Best,

K.W.

BRIGHTEST MIDNIGHT

Waiting for my notification is torture. After refreshing my tablet non-stop all day at school and one last time when I arrive at the airstrip, I’ve had enough. It’s a relief to power it down and stow it away. I don’t need to hear the ping of a new message anyway. I’d much rather fly.

Finnur’s waiting for me at the tail section of his dad’s Haukur 100. It’s the lone propeller plane on the tarmac, but it stands proudly next to the jets lined up like shiny toys. Its sturdy metal frame looms against a gunmetal-gray Icelandic sky.

Finnur’s dark blond hair falls over the bridge of his nose as he greets me with a smile. “Hi, Lilja.”

“Ready to catch some air?” I rub my hands together.

He raises an eyebrow. “You know you sound like a twelve-year-old boy, right?”

I pull myself as tall as I can manage in my pointy-heeled boots. Even with the extra two inches, the top of my ponytail only reaches Finnur’s shoulder. “You know my motto,” I shoot back. “Fly like someone’s chasing you.”

Finnur rolls his eyes and follows my lead as I climb into the cockpit.

He doesn’t know how much I need the distraction of my weekly joy-ride because I haven’t shared my secret with him, or with anyone. But when the acceptances finally go out today, I’ll either get to spill my news--or be forced to watch my dream slip away.

An Agent's Inbox #9

Dear Ms. Smith:

I am seeking representation for OF BLOOD AND ROSES, my 70,000-word YA fantasy retelling of the Scottish folk ballad, "Tam Lin."  I recently saw your #MSWL tweet in which you expressed an interest in YA that captures the feel of music (bands, fans, etc.), and, as a singer/songwriter with a B.A. in Music, I am hoping that my music-themed manuscript, OF BLOOD AND ROSES, will strike a chord with you (Forgive me! I couldn't resist!).

Halloween brings hoards of wasted witches, drunken demons, and masked mayhem to the city of Salem, Massachusetts, but music major Maggie Mae Carter feels bored, awash in a sucky sea of collegiate drudgery. So when she hears a voice on the radio that makes her feel more alive than she has in years, Maggie steels away to The Hall--a labyrinthine rock club in the heart of “Witch City”--to meet the young man who spins folksongs into rock ‘n’ roll perfection.

But as she is plunged into the world behind the shadows of The Hall, Maggie discovers that there’s more to singer Thomas Lynn than meets the eye, and when he oh-so-casually lets slip that he’s going to be sacrificed by a band of faery folk-rockers on Halloween night, Maggie will risk everything, going toe-to-toe with the Queen of Faerie herself, to save him. With the help of a Bostonian changeling, a Japanese fox-wife with one mother of a bad attitude, and her own penchant for folk balladry, Maggie must rescue Thomas Lynn from the fey forces that threaten him. And, if she can, she must save him from himself.

Graduating summa cum laude as a music major from Salem State University, I have garnered recognition for my fiction, my poetry, and for my songwriting.  The winner of the Boston Folk Festival's Songwriting Contest as well as the South Shore Folk Club's Ballad-Singing Contest, I have spent years studying the ballad of "Tam Lin," living with it, dreaming it, imagining my own world within the fertile lines--a landscape of sex, sacrifice, and the quest for true love.

Thank you for your time and consideration.  I hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,
M.P.M.

OF BLOOD AND ROSES

My father forbade me to go to The Hall that night.

I listened to him calmly--he was being quite rational, a welcome change--and then I went anyway.

Forbid is one of those words that makes me cringe; it’s too solid. When spoken, it rings like a door being shut, and I’m sick to death of closed doors. Well, you know what they say: when one door closes, open a window.

The copper beech beyond the glass shivered in the cool October air, and the glow from the streetlight gathered golden in the leaves. Hoisting open my window, I hiked up my ridiculously impractical (but deliciously scarlet) ’50s-style dress, narrowly avoided strangulation by my purse, and climbed down the tree’s sprawling, silver-barked branches. Climbed is too generous a word for what actually transpired. I slipped on the beech bark, which was smooth as polished stone, and, in an aerial display that I can only hope amused the lone squirrel watching, I landed in my father’s petunias. After retrieving one of my black leather flats from the hedges, where it had flown seemingly of its own volition, I swore to myself that next time, if there was a next time, I would dress more sensibly.

I wasn’t bold enough to swipe my father’s keys, which meant that my transportation for the night would be my bike.  It was fugly and small, but had silver handlebars curved like a bull’s horns, and I felt like a rapscallion when riding it, which was, I thought, worth all the hideousness.

An Agent's Inbox #8

Dear Ms. Bridget Smith:

Guardian angel Enael can't seem to protect anyone.

When she tries to stop her human ward from cheating, the man ends up with a bullet in his brain at the hands of his wife. During another assignment, a demon attack sends her human into a spiral of depression and, ultimately, suicide. And there’s the orphan, starving and homeless on the streets of pre-Revolution France, where bread is scarce and sympathy is scarcer. Enael doesn't know where to begin.

Fellow Guardian Kaspen supports her through all of these failures. Enael relies on his strength... and maybe on his smile and confident swagger, too. His strong connection to his ward inspires Enael to examine her relationships with her own. Just when Enael is ready to admit her love for him and apply all he's taught her to guarding her human, the demon that attacked her previous ward interferes again. Kaspen is enslaved and forced to renounce his wings.

Heaven's governing council forbids Enael from rescuing him because her next human is waiting. Enael faces a choice: To perform her sacred duty, she must surrender the angel she loves. To save him, she must disobey the council, becoming a fallen angel herself.

FALLEN REDEMPTION is an adult fantasy. It is complete at 103,000 words and has series potential.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,
S.S.


FALLEN REDEMPTION

My ward Daniel Michael Wheaton proved to be a handful from the moment he was born. After witnessing his temper during his Life Plan sessions, I should have been prepared, but I was confident in my ability as a Guardian angel.

On an afternoon in May 1759, the Wheaton family ate their midday dinner together. I stood behind Daniel, hands nestled in the small of my back under relaxed wings. Daniel's head was bowed as he planned the work he needed to finish before twilight.

I was determined to prove myself to my superiors with this life. Daniel's heart rate was strong, his breathing even, and his brain activity normal. The breeze sweeping through the cabin cooled him, despite the unseasonable afternoon heat. The only thing that could go wrong was another emotional outburst, and I would do everything I could to stop that.

Daniel's wife Lillian cut up her son's pork, her cutlery clinking against the plate. Their eleven-year-old Caleb chattered about a game he and the neighbor boy had invented that morning. It involved leftover scraps of fence, long grass strands, and large insects. "'Twas my idea," he said.

"Caleb, finish your mush." Lillian slid the plate toward him.

"I don't wanna finish my mush." Caleb shoved aside the bowl. "It tastes like cow dung."

Lillian clanked down her knife and gave Daniel a sharp look.

I felt Daniel's temper flare. Before I could react, he said, "'Tis my fault your mush is dry?" He didn’t look up from his peas.

An Agent's Inbox #7

Dear Ms. Smith,

Grace has her life planned: get elected senior class president, get into Harvard on a scholarship, go to Yale Law School, and change the world. With the election right around the corner, she doesn't have time for any distractions, including the overeager new kid Colin, even if he is kind of cute (and also kind of a stalker).

After a mega-embarrassing mishap at a party, Grace discovers time travel is real. Colin is a time agent on vacation and her ticket to adventure--experiencing the fall of the Berlin Wall, spying on J.K. Rowling while she writes Harry Potter, meeting Jane Austen.

With a newfound penchant for fun and maybe-kinda-sorta feelings for Colin, Grace begins to imagine a new future for herself. But when she loses the race for senior class president, Colin finally tells her the truth. Not only was Grace not supposed to lose the election, but she's destined to become President of the United States. He came back in time to meet her, and now her future is in jeopardy.

But Colin's time agency will protect her timeline at any cost. Their methods are questionable at best (memory-altering drugs that make you a suggestible zombie, no thanks), and Grace must choose between the life she’s always planned and the one she never expected. But she’ll have to fight the time agency in order to have a choice at all.

FUTURESHOCK is a YA novel complete at 70,000 words. Pitched as Doctor Who meets Jack & Bobby, FUTURESHOCK is a standalone with series potential. It will appeal to fans of contemporary YA with a twist such as THE ART OF WISHING by Lindsay Ribar and TEAM HUMAN by Sarah Rees Brennan and Justine Larbalestier.

I graduated magna cum laude from Boston University with a degree in Magazine Journalism and currently work in international television marketing in Los Angeles. I am on the YA Literature staff for sci-fi/fantasy convention Dragon*Con and organized The Quill Track, a YA Literature programming series, for the 2012 Harry Potter conference Ascendio.

Best Regards,

A.D.

FUTURESHOCK

"They can take our freedom, but they can never take our French fries!"

If there had been a desk in front of me, I would have smacked my head against it. Repeatedly.

The auditorium erupted into cheers, a decidedly uncommon occurrence for Dresden High's student council candidacy announcements. Usually, students simply said what position they were running for and why people should vote for them, to weak applause or the occasional overzealous "Yeah!" from the stoner kids in the back.

Apparently, all it took was a twinkly-eyed quarterback running on a French fries platform to get people enthusiastically engaged in student government.

I had to use all my strength to unclench my jaw. My fists, however, I kept balled at my sides, so that I wouldn't try and wring anyone's neck. I wasn't usually this tense, but there was something about pretty-boy jocks reducing student government to a popularity contest that seriously irked me.

Said jock extraordinaire, Jake Carlson, gesticulated wildly at the crowd to keep cheering. Then he ended his brilliantly puerile campaign speech with, "So if you vote for me, everything will be awesome, and you can have all the French fries you want!"

Head. Desk.

Before I could engage in any more imaginary stress relief, the student council adviser, Ms. Jefferson, nodded at me to go up to the podium despite the fact that the crowd was still whooping, catcalling and clapping. Jake, for his part, was encouraging them by way of a dramatic reenactment of last week's game-winning catch.

An Agent's Inbox #6

Dear Ms. Smith:

I was happy to discover your interest in anthropology and archaeology, the two passions of my protagonist in DARKSIDE SUN, and I hope you will consider representing it.

University student, Addison Beckett, exists in a state of denial.  Reality isn’t really unraveling around her.  Professor Green isn’t really a recruiter for a secret society responsible for keeping another reality’s dead from crossing over to Earth.  And over her plaid-loving corpse will she join him.

Right.

Addison fights her induction...at first.  Her gravitational attraction to Professor Green, and unique ability to see the dead, begin to crack her delusions of normalcy.  When she learns of a traitor planning to create heaven on Earth for the dead, her denial comes to an end.  If she doesn’t grow a backbone and do something, people could die.

In theory, finding the scheming jerk and keeping humankind off of the endangered species list should be simple, according to a boy in the mirror.  Addison only has to embrace the part of herself she’s been running from since childhood and become who she’s fated to be--the key to ending a centuries-old war.

Easy peasy...or not.

DARKSIDE SUN is a romantic urban fantasy complete at 100,000 words.  I’m a member of the RWA, with five published novels.  For two years running, I’ve been a finalist in the Pacific Northwest Writers’ Association Literary Contest.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

J.A. 

DARKSIDE SUN

My dorm room wall began to unravel as if someone had found a loose thread on the fabric of reality and sped off with it like a kid with a kite string.  It happened a lot around me.  I didn’t know what might be on the other side and what it wanted.  Maybe me.  I wasn’t about to stick around to find out.

Once upon a time I’d have bolted, but I’d trained myself out of advertising my insanity.  I just had to get my stuff and leave calmly, like a normal person.  Easy peasy.  Right.

A nervous laugh gurgled out of me as I gathered the chaos of books from my bed and stuffed them into my backpack.  There was not a black hole in my wall.  Nothing would come through it and eat me for breakfast.  Denial was a wonderful thing, like a rain slicker to keep the deluge of crazy from soaking too deep into my skin.  Necessary, since Dad had mortgaged the cabin to send me to Waterloo University, and I didn’t want to lose my ever-loving mind before graduation.

Nothing would keep me from class today, even if the devil himself spilled out of my wall.  Only one thing scared me more than whatever waited out there on the dark side of the wall, and he taught my ancient civilizations class.  I’d witnessed first-hand what Professor Green did to people who arrived late to his lecture.  I’d rather have taken a hammer to my knuckles.

An Agent's Inbox #5

Dear Ms. Smith:

 

I am a published author seeking representation. After reading your bio, I felt that you might be a good fit for my middle grade novels.  Here is a description of my most recent novel, Millie Glow, which includes time travel from my favorite decade: the eighties:

 

Millie Glow is just a typical sixth grade student; that is, until her scientist father decides to take the family on a business trip to the future: 2013.  Too bad Ava Henry doesn’t know this--she and her friend are convinced the Glows are zombies.  How could they not be when they see Mr. Glow being dug up from the ground by his family?

 

Millie Glow is a light-hearted mystery-turned-science fiction novel that combines humor, zombies, and eighties fashion.

 

I am the author of seven children’s books in the trade market. I am an SCBWI network representative and a former elementary and middle school teacher. In 2008, I won the SCBWI Work-in-Progress grant for one of my contemporary novels, A Recipe for Ana.

 

Below are the first 250 words of Millie Glow.  Thank you for your time.

 

Sincerely,

N.R.

MILLIE GLOW

Chapter 1: Millie

It was only the first week of sixth grade when Millie Glow found out about The Vacation. The one that would change her life forever.

“Sit down, Millie,” her dad said. 

Millie grabbed an Ecto Cooler juice box from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table. “What’s up?”

“Your dad has some…unusual news for you,” her mom said, as if unusual was a foreign word in their house.

“So you know how I’ve been doing studies into protons and anti-protons…” Mr. Glow dad began.

Millie took a sip of her juice box and zoned out as she often did when her dad tried to explain what he was working on in his lab. 

Millie’s dad was an inventor. Some stuff turned out super cool, like his bicycle which peeled a banana as you pedaled and a peanut butter that exploded into cotton candy in your mouth. Other stuff he invented was pretty boring--those inventions usually involved microscope slides, pipettes, and goggles.

It's not that she didn’t think he was a great inventor. It’s just that he was always talking about particles smaller than a speck of sand, and, well, she wasn’t sure what that had to do with her.

“…I can’t confirm anything, obviously,” he said taking off his glasses. “That is, think of it as a business trip of sorts.”

She turned back to her dad. “Where’d you say we’d be going?”

“The year 2013.”

An Agent's Inbox #4

Dear Ms. Smith,

The Second World War looms large as the Uberreich mobilizes in Europe under the command of  Hitler’s right hand, the mad scientist Dr. Bosende. Whispers of Otto Hitler's zombie armies and deals with the Devil swirl through England and its sovereign nation across the Atlantic, New Britannia.

In Boston, Duna O'Malley could care less about the war in Europe. Or Hitler's monsters. She has lost her grandparents to a savage influenza and she's entirely alone. Then an old fortune-teller appears at the wake and tells Duna there's more to her past than she knows.

It seems this awkward 17-year-old is the last Lumenvox, the prophesied defender of humanity against her dark counterpart, the Nox. If she can learn to wield her power--to cast her light body into battle--she will stop Hitler's horrific plan to enslave the world with his nightmare monsters. Duna doesn't have long to learn the path of light before Hitler and Dr. Bosende realize their plan to destroy the humanity, starting with the Jewish captives in the work camps.

DAUGHTER OF LIGHT is an alternative history fantasy YA, which is complete at 70,000 words. It is my first novel and intended to be part of a trilogy, though it can stand on its own.

Thank you for your time and consideration. The first page is pasted below.

Best,
S.T.


DAUGHTER OF LIGHT

The Beginning

The moon was still a dirty pearl in the sky when they crept through the shadows.

“Leave her there, Lorna." Her mentor's voice was firm in the darkness.

The basket in Lorna's arms was heavy with woolen blankets, and heated stones to ward off the late March chill.

The old woman behind her, Lorna stole through the shadows and moved up the steps, gripping the basket. Her heart blazed wildly in the cage of her chest. The houses were all dark this time of night but in a few hours, the lights would wink on, the day would begin to stretch and awaken. The couple who lived here would find the baby.

At the top step, she hesitated. What if…?

The woman behind her insisted, “She is the Celestis Nativite. She will be the savior of this world. If you keep her with you, he will find you. He will kill her then he will kill you. He knows--”

“How do you know that?” Lorna hissed over her shoulder. “What if he doesn’t know about the prophecy? It's been a secret for so long.” But Lorna knew it was no use. Her baby was going to be raised by her own grandparents, people Lorna barely knew anymore – almost strangers, here in this tiny cottage. Her daughter would smell fish on her clothes every day of her life, and salt water, and lye soap. How long until she would learn she was born to fight the darkness?