An Agent's Inbox #11

Dear Mr. Cusick:

Bulldozers crouch outside Emerson Elementary, as if they long to eat the school in one gulp. It’s up to fifth grade history buff George Furst and his friends to save the not-quite historic building from demolition. George has no clue how to organize a fifth grade full of crush-obsessed, experiment-exploding hamster haters into a protest, but unless he unites their class against the powerful Board of Education, George and his friends will be THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY.

THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY (18,000 WORDS) is a middle grade novel-in-verse. Its ensemble cast is as diverse as the dishes at a Fourth of July picnic, but when George and his friends stage a revolution, the entire class is part of the fireworks. I hope you will consider this manuscript for representation.

I have a BFA (Dramatic Writing) from NYU. THE LAST FIFTH GRADE is drawn from my 20 years in education, including classroom visits as a longtime poet-in-the-schools. My work for children has appeared in Highlights. Poetry credits include literary journals, a first-place chapbook, and two poetry anthologies (as editor and co-editor). Currently, I am editor of the art and literary journal Little Patuxent Review. I also blog about arts education at www.authoramok.com, where I am active in the Poetry Friday kids’ lit blogging community.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

L.S.

THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY 

First Day

By Rachel Chieko Stein

We only have 180 days

at Emerson Elementary.

When this school year ends,

I will have spent one thousand days

in this building. I want a thousand more

so I’ll never have to say goodbye

to friends I’ve had since kindergarten.

I wish Emerson could be my school forever,

but everyone’s talking about plans

to tear the building down.

It’s going to be like we were never here.

I wish fifth grade wasn’t such a tornado,

whirling and spinning,

everyone scattered in different directions,

our school gone, an empty space

left behind.

History

By George Furst

My name is George Washington Furst.

Don’t laugh. My parents are History teachers.

They met at George Washington’s house.

Not while he was living there, obviously.

The house is a museum called Mount Vernon.

Vernon is also the name of our cat,

who lives with me and my mom.

My dad doesn’t live with us.

He moved out, took half the furniture,

and left the cat, so probably

we won’t visit Mount Vernon

on my birthday like usual

because nothing’s like usual.

If George Washington’s house

is still standing after 250 years

why demolish Emerson?

It’s the only place I have that never changes,

every year the same blue chairs,

beat-up desks and blackboards.

Maybe if I run for Class President,

I can explain to the teachers

that our school could last another 200 years.

An Agent's Inbox #10

Mr. Cusick,

Your reputation, catalog and wealth of experience have inspired me to reach out to you for possible literary representation. Your perspective as an author, educator and agent is invaluable. Most important to me, however, is the passion we share for children's literature. Although your personal website doesn't list PBs as desired projects, I see that they are acceptable here and via the Greenhouse Literary Agency submission process. I am, therefore, pleased to present TRAINING ACADEMY AT PARKSIDE ZOO, a 585-word humorous picture book with series potential.

The animals of the Training Academy have one mission...to save the human race.  Although discouraged by the silly behavior of the zoo's visitors, the animals rally to teach simple life skills and help people become productive members of society; a quest that is tougher than it sounds…especially for animals suffering from delusions of grandeur.

I hope that you will enjoy the quirky twists in TRAINING ACADEMY AT PARKSIDE ZOO, which is highly dependent on illustrations for comical value. I have added art notes for clarification purposes only and am anxious to embrace an illustrator's interpretation. I seek a full service partner who can facilitate every aspect of my career; my projects range from PB to YA. I am an educator and have been published in regional and national magazines, am a member of SCBWI and plan to attend its International Winter Conference in NYC in February.

Thanks for your time.

Sincerely,

C.S.

TRAINING ACADEMY AT PARKSIDE ZOO

 

Wallace Owl was president of the Training Academy at Parkside Zoo.

Every day, he recited the mission over the intercom while the other animals followed along.

"Good morning, everyone. Please repeat after me!" Wallace said.

"As a member of the Training Academy.......                                     

I promise.........

to help our human visitors........

learn the skills needed......

to survive out in the world."

Wallace visited the animals to evaluate the training program.

His first stop was the chimp enclosure.

"How's your project going?" he asked Papa Chimp.

"See for yourself. We can't teach them a thing!" he said. "They just scratch their armpits, jump up and down, and yell, oo, oo, aah, aah. They're out of control!"

Wallace took some notes and headed off to visit the reptiles.

"What's with these silly peek-a-boo games?" he asked. "They keep popping their heads in and out of their collars."

"Don't ask me," said Latimer Turtle. "Scares me to death."

"They don't even try to blend in," said Milo the chameleon.

"At least they don't stick their tongues out at you all day," Reginald Lizard said. "How rude!"

Wallace got similar reports from the birds and water animals.

"All they do is balance on one foot,"  said Marisol Flamingo. "I've had it with their shenanigans."

"Just look at those teeth," said Cedric Shark. "They're terrifying."

Even the king of the jungle couldn't get through to them.

"They just stare at me," said Nigel the lion. "I get no respect!"

Wallace could see that they were discouraged.

An Agent's Inbox #9

Dear Mr. Cusick,

Three girls...one idyllic town. Over the course of two years, three strangers from upper class families living in the tony enclave of Gullybrook, are kidnapped. The local mall is their ingress into a sex slave industry they never knew existed. What awaits them is a future of handing over their bodies to those who eagerly pay. The girls turn to drugs, mind games, and each other to cope. 

There's Sissy. The 16-year-old junior from Sweethaven Academy who's nabbed when a friendly shopper leads her on a wild goose chase for the perfect Homecoming dress. Two months later, Candace, a freshman cheerleader at Gullybrook High disappears after a secret job interview. One year later, Megan, a sophomore at Lake Catholic High School is pinched trying to shoplift a present for her maybe girlfriend.

Through the violence, degradation, despair, and heartache, these girls find strength they didn't know they possessed to keep going. Fighting to endure, until they can find a way out of their sex prison.

The Mall in Gullybrook is a contemporary YA complete at 61,000 words. It is along the same vein as Lucy Christopher's Stolen, Patricia McCormick's Sold, Elizabeth Scott's Living Dead Girl and Theresa Flores' The Slave Across the Street, but told through three interconnecting viewpoints and with an uplifting aftertaste. A beta reader compared it to Room by Emma Donoghue.

I have consulted with human trafficking expert, Dr. Jacquelyn Meshelemiah, at The Ohio State University to bring to light a lesser known aspect of human trafficking, a sex trade that effects suburban girls. These are born and raised Americans, girls who never dreamed anything like this could ever happen to them...until it did because they didn't recognize the red flags. Dr. Meshelemiah wants to make The Mall in Gullybrook required reading for her classes. She currently teaches a MOOC (massive open online course) on human trafficking with 10,000 enrolled students this semester.

I am an active member of SCBWI, blogger, and short-story award winner.

The first 250 words are below. I hope to hear you'd like to read more.

Very truly yours,

K.V.

THE MALL IN GULLYBROOK

October 3-4, 2013

Sissy

"You encourage her!"

"You are being ridiculous. We work together. We HAVE to talk."

"You are her boss. She's using you, and you're too big a fool to see it. She's half your age. It's disgusting!"

They're still at it. Even being in my own room isn't enough to get away from it. I readjust my Beats headphones and let Justin Timberlake's voice wash over me. Have you ever heard his song "Mirrors"? Or seen the video? It's a song he wrote to his girlfriend when he knew he wanted her to be his wife. And he wrote it honoring his grandparents. It's like you're my mirror. My mirror staring back at me. I couldn't get any bigger, with anyone else beside me. 

He's got it figured out. That's exactly what love should be. Did my parents ever feel that way? Hard to imagine, the way they fight now. 

On to better things. Like what to wear to Homecoming. I find a real possibility on the Jovani website: beaded halter bodice, chiffon ruffles cascading off a cocktail-length skirt. It's sexy but subtle. The emerald green or snow white versions will work better with my hair and freckles. But to know which one looks best, I'll need to try them on. And seriously, I could use the distraction of a shopping trip now.

My phone vibrates and it's Kristen. Best friend and best shopping companion. That jolt of energy shoots through me at the thought of another trip to the mall.

An Agent's Inbox #8

Dear John Cusick,

Two years after her mom's death, thirteen-year-old Grace is devastated with her dad's decision to date. Fearing her mom will become a distant memory, Grace reaches beyond the grave for help.

Guiding Grace is the premiere book in a series about an adolescent’s struggle to grow up.  This is my first contemporary middle grade novel and is complete at 29,000 words.  I plan to write the series from Grace’s eighth-grade year until she graduates from high school.  Each book will grow alongside Grace, and the genres will mature from middle grade fiction into young adult.

As a middle school English teacher for the past 12 years, I have a distinctive insight into the dilemmas of my target audience.  I also lost my mom when I was 9 months old, and I know firsthand the struggles of growing up without a mother’s guidance. 

I chose to query you when I discovered "An Agent's Inbox" contest.  Upon further research, I found you're interested in contemporary middle grade fiction, and that you also represent children’s picture books.  I write both genres and would like an agent with experience in these styles.

Thank you for taking your time in considering my novel.  I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

M.S.

GUIDING GRACE

October 6th

Dear Mom,

I miss you more desperately today than I did yesterday.  I don’t know what goes on up in heaven, but down here, on Earth, life sucks! Dad and Gabby want to make today special, but it isn’t the same without you.  It’s been two years since you left, and I still feel like I’m living in a vacuum.  My life’s always spinning in chaos, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. So, in case you somehow forgot, I turned thirteen today.  Do you remember when I was ten, and I couldn’t wait to be a teenager? Now I realize it isn’t exactly what I envisioned. Life suddenly doesn’t make sense, and I feel like a fraud. 

I’m tired of pretending to be cheerful, when everything inside of me burns with rage.  I’m a volcano, and all I do is erupt on people.  Dad’s usually my target, because he frustrates me daily.   He won’t talk about you, and he avoids your memory like it’s a curse or something.  There’s this layer of silence between Dad and me now.  Sometimes I want to scream at the top of my lungs, so he’ll notice me again. He doesn’t understand me anymore, but honestly, neither do I.

I actually thought today was looking up when Dad said I could go to the dance at school.  I missed the first one because he was over protective, as always, but this morning he seemed different somehow.  He was grinning and happy.

An Agent's Inbox #7

Dear Mr. Cusick,

Mankind achieved the pinnacle of scientific success; giving souls to robots.

It was also their greatest mistake.

Ariel Jordan and her family are the last of the survivors, the ones who escaped the Wars, the Purges, and the Collections. In the year 2082, Earth is now controlled by the machines once called friends. The remaining humans thought they were safe, that the Souled no longer sought to destroy them. But they were wrong; and death is now the least of their worries. As humans once sought to perfect robots, the Souled now seek to perfect humans. And once they are done, the humans will be like them, immortal machines, destined to watch the last of humankind disappear forever, eternally trapped within their indestructible bodies.

When her family is taken, Ariel must journey into the city of the Souled to save her sister and grandfather, enlisting the help of Connor, a boy who was once captured and mysteriously escaped from the Souled, something unheard of. Ariel will discover the desolated world she thought she knew has changed and the lines between friend and foe have become blurred. But to save those she loves, she will have to sacrifice more than her life when the price of their freedom is her soul.

My young adult novel SOULED is complete at 73,000 words and is the first in a series. I am prepared to send the completed manuscript upon request.

My professional background is in painting and teaching middle school art. SOULED is my second young adult novel, and my current WIP is an adventure series for middle grade boys entitled The Troll Diaries.

I appreciate your time and interest and look forward to your response.

Sincerely,
J.P.

SOULED

I was ten years old the first time the Souled ones came for us.

At the time, death was still an abstract form to me. I knew it happened, but I had never seen it firsthand. It would happen in the shadows of night, leaving in its wake soft cries echoing quietly through the camp. I could hear the whispers, hushed tones speaking of death and loss, but it hadn’t yet touched my life in any tangible way. When it did, my innocence was suddenly lost in a flash of metal and blood, and trying to recall any memories of before was like trying to remember the warmth of sunlight in the harshest of winter storms.

The Purges had been going on for nearly twenty years; it was all I knew of life, having been born in the middle of them. We were always hiding and moving, never staying anywhere too long. Once we almost got comfortable in one place, my grandfather would decide that it was time to move again. By the time I was eight, I knew what that look on his face meant. It was the only time he wouldn’t look me in the eyes.

He hated to do it, but we would hear stories of families who stayed in one place for long periods of time, and went so far as to build houses. That’s usually when the Souled would find them; at the very moment they thought they were truly safe. I’ve never seen a real, intact house, just the remains of them, relics of another era and lifetimes long before my own.

An Agent's Inbox #6

Dear Mr. Cusick,

Sia’s is to be the next Protector, the one tasked with harnessing the pure magic to keep all five scattered tribes safe and invisible from humans.  Now seventeen, lonely but independent, Sia will soon ascend to the position, but not without reservations from her tribe. Ascending to the position of Protector is her only chance to prove herself, and to gain the respect she’s always wanted out of her people, not the shunning she’s had to endure all these years.

In the eyes of the Unseen, the humans were responsible for their near extinction during the War, their Exile from their beautiful homeland and their miserable way of life having to hide away, scattered in the wilderness. But one morning, as the first and only warning alarms go off alerting Sia to a tragedy that’s occurred, Sia chases the human culprit to the edge of her forest, unable to follow into the forbidden village. One of her tribesmen had been killed. Her people blame the humans for the deaths that keep accumulating. But when Kita, her mentor, is the next victim, Sia is thrust unprepared into her role as Protector, taking over from Kita without completing her training.

Killian, sent from another tribe to be Sia’s betrothed foremost and secondly as her trainer. Despite his and her parents’ pleas for her to keep safe, Sia takes matters into her own hands forcing Killian to go along.  During her  hunt for the killer, Sia meets Galen, a human Seer who can penetrate their magic, who can see the Unseen, something that should be impossible. Sia’s convinced she’s found the killer in him, but given the chance, Galen doesn’t kill her or hurt her,  not like the man that hurts her during her nightly patrols with brutal and vicious attacks that drive her closer to insanity. But when Galen begins receiving sinister messages and threats from an unknown sender Sia realizes that she, Galen, and Killian are connected in ways Sia would have never imagined.

As the brutal murders and Sia’s nightly assaults continue, Sia must battle her growing paranoia and regain control of her fraying, weakening magic. Each death is one closer to her own, which could mean exposure to humans and the extinction of her people.

UNSEEN is a young adult fantasy  complete at 92,000 words that is a mix between Victoria Schwab’s THE NEAR WITCH and Leigh Bardugo’s SHADOW & BONE with ideas to expand it with multimedia including video, photography and social media along the lines of NIGHT FILM by Marisha Pessl.

UNSEEN is inspired by the old world heritage, beautiful landscape and Slavic culture of my birthplace, Bulgaria. I have a BFA in Photography and am a professional photographer and filmmaker. I have worked with Simon & Schuster, Harper Teen, Bloomsbury and Little Brown to create book trailers, extra content and various social media campaigns for house books. I have worked very closely with some of the top young adult authors developing book trailers, photographing book tours, and creating innovative social media strategies to help build buzz for their books via all social media platforms.

UNSEEN is available upon request. You can see more of what I do by visiting my website, vlcphoto.net. 

Thank you for your time,

V.S.

UNSEEN

Chapter 1: The Warning So Loud

The heat was slowly creeping down Sia’s back like a hot wet tear. Paired with the too quiet forest, it was dulling her senses, her steps, her moves. She leaned against a tree willing the minutes to speed forward until the next Guard could come relieve her of her patrol.

She shouldn’t be patrolling alone but she preferred it that way. She could focus, could practice her magic without another guards’ sidelong glances and unease. She was beginning to appreciate and even welcome being alone.

She leaned back against the bark and closed her eyes for a minute thinking of the coolness of her chamber that would gladly embrace in a few more hours.

A crash broke through Sia’s thoughts. Than a snap of a branch. Sia turned in a circle in the forest clearing following the sounds.A crunch here. A stomp there. Leaves rustled and Sia spun, a massive weight setting her off balance.  A collision with--

Nothing. No one.

She blinked once, twice, but  there was only the clear path and rocks shimmering from the heat. A whoosh of fabric had Sia pulling out her knife. Something wasn’t right. Then Sia heard it: the sound of footsteps as they quickly receded behind her. Within a blink of an eye, a turn of her head, and a man had appeared only to quickly disappear again a few feet away. Moving fast.

She cursed under her breath--tired--as her feet instinctively moved into a chase.

An Agent's Inbox #5

Dear Mr. Cusick,

I’ve been a follower of your blog for quite some time and love your informative posts. Because of your interest in finding YA literature for boys, I thought you might enjoy my book, The Last Orphans, a YA thriller/action adventure novel complete at 59,000 words.

Shane’s coach told him he had the makings of a great leader--too bad it took the death of every adult on the planet to prove it. He watches his family’s slaughter when a modern-day government mishap leaves everyone under the age of eighteen to fend for themselves. An out-of-his-league girl pleads for his help, and sixteen-year-old Shane reluctantly finds himself leading his high school friends on a desperate search for answers.

His metal is tested by a run-in with a gang of violent juvenile delinquents, and Shane learns a top-secret military weapon’s malfunction caused the massacre. What’s worse, the still-active weapon could, at any moment, turn on the survivors.

Attempting to keep their little brothers and sisters safe, Shane and his friends fight their way through gangs who have taken over Atlanta. Meanwhile he grows closer to the girl he hopes to protect, only to watch the doomsday weapon cause insects and animals to attack her. The weapon awakens murderous urges in the small-town teenagers, who must make it to the heart of the city and deactivate the deadly machine. Left unchecked, it will target younger and younger people until it kills them all.     

I am the author of Joshua’s Tree (MuseItUp Publishing, June 2013), a YA novel that was a quarterfinalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest (2012) and is currently #1 out of 882 books on the GoodReads 2013 Summer Reads List.

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

Sincerely,

N.W.H.

THE LAST ORPHANS

Dad twisted away from the steering wheel and glared, the veins in his leathery neck and temple bulging.

“You can’t keep carrying on about it, Shane,” he yelled. “She’s dead! That’s the short and sweet.”

“Bill! Look where you’re going!” Jackie put one hand on the roof and one on the dash, bracing for a collision.

Spinning forward, Dad jerked the wheel. The tires screeched, and the car veered into its lane. Shane’s six-foot-tall body whipped hard to the left and then right, his head slamming into the upper part of the doorframe with a loud thunk. A lifted four-wheel drive almost flattened the ancient station wagon. It swerved toward the opposite shoulder, roaring by with its horn blaring and the driver hanging his finger out at them. Cursing and rubbing the lump growing on the side of his skull, Shane almost wished the truck had put him out of his misery.

By the time Dad got his window down and hurled a mouthful of slurred insults back at the truck, it was already a quarter-mile down the road.

“Such a tough guy,” Shane muttered under his breath.

“What did you say, boy?” Dad shouted, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. At least this time he kept his eyes forward.

“Nothing,” Shane replied and looked out at the rolling hills covered in brown fescue, pastures separated by stands of twisted pine trees and rusting barbwire.

Jackie lit a Virginia Slim with trembling hands.

An Agent's Inbox #4

John,

I have been following you on Twitter for a while now and was happy to hear that you are now acquiring picture book manuscripts along with the other genres that I write. Thank you for considering my picture book, DAISY’S DONUT DRESS.

Daisy is a little girl who loves dresses: rainbow dresses, twirly dresses, and pretty, sparkly princess dresses. There is only one thing Daisy loves as much as dresses: donuts. If only she didn't have to stop playing to eat them!

One day she has the most wonderful, exciting idea: a donut dress. But Daisy discovers a donut dress isn't all chocolate and sprinkles.

DAISY’S DONUT DRESS is a 417 word picture book for early readers, emphasizing opposites, textures, and problem solving.  

I write for KSL.com and review books for Deseret News and Bookalicious.org. I have a Bachelor of Arts degree in journalism from Utah State University.

Thank you for your time,

T.C.

DAISY'S DONUT DRESS

Daisy loves dresses.

She loves striped dresses, and spotted dresses.

Straight dresses and twirly dresses.

And lots and lots of layers dresses.

Daisy loves rainbow dresses and black and white dresses.

Long dresses and short dresses.

And pretty, sparkly, princess dresses.

The only thing Daisy loves as much as dresses

Are donuts.

Donuts are her favorite treat.

One day, Daisy takes a break from spinning and curtsying to eat a donut,

And she has the most wonderful, exciting idea.

“Mommy!” she said.  “Do you know what dress I would love to have?”

“What’s that, Daisy Dear?” her mommy answered.

“A donut dress!”

“That is a good idea, Daisy.”

Daisy knew just what her donut dress would look like.

“It will have chocolate donuts for sleeves,” Daisy told her mother.

“And sugar donuts for the top.”

“Sprinkled donuts for the skirt,”

“And jelly donuts for jeweled buttons.”

“That sounds delicious, Daisy,” her mommy said, smiling.

“Exactly,” Daisy said. “Anytime I get hungry,

I’ll just take a bite of my dress.”

“I bet you wouldn’t even have to stop playing for breakfast, lunch, snacks or dinner.”

“You're right,” Daisy said.  “My donut dress will be the best idea ever!”

Except, Daisy thought,

Maybe when she invited her friends over to play with dolls

Or read her books,

Would they just want to eat her donut dress instead?

Stella would love the sprinkles, more than Daisy’s doll.

Macy wouldn’t even notice all the dress-ups with her face stuck in maple bars.