Face-Lift 790

Guess the Plot

Experimenting with Love

1. Kaely has fallen for Colin, but he's gay so she decides to turn him straight. When her attempts all fail, she comes up with a new experiment: disguise herself as a guy, get Colin to fall for her/him, and then reveal the truth, at which point he'll have to be straight.

2. Thelda Mondthwaite's family has been in the love potion business eight centuries. Tradition means everything, until niece Titiana joins the business. Tit says diversification is the key to future success. When Thelda finds a bottle labeled “On Your Knees, Wastrel,” she knows the company is in trouble.

3. It was supposed to be a simple psychology trial - can people make themselves fall in love? The answer seems to be yes: the more time Gaby spends with her assigned partner, the more she starts to like him. But will she throw him over when she learns this was actually a drug trial for a new pheromone-enhanced body wash?

4. Salitor the wizard has been trying for decades to perfect the formula for a sure-fire love potion. All his failed attempts, unfortunately for mankind, have to go somewhere, and that somewhere is the galactic horror known as the Soul Sucker.

5. High school junior David Jacoby concocts a love potion in the chem lab. He has only three days before the prom to slip it to Marla, the prettiest, most popular girl in the school. So he invents a gizmo that freezes time, then winds up in the seventh dimension. He takes Marla to the prom or not in a happy or weird ending, accordingly. Final chapter is dadaist garble.

6. Julie has always dreamed of the perfect guy, but being the school nerd doesn't help her chances one bit. Now she's all grown up and decides to make all the boys that once knew her jealous by creating the perfect boy for her. Too bad he's a robot and has no emotions, otherwise his seamless construction would've fooled the idiots.



Original Version

Your Evilness,

Kaely is known to the online world as kaekat2012 on her blog and she's as close to a being star as she is becoming president at 16. That is, until she meets Colin, a super hot foreign exchange student from Scottland. Not only do her almost nonexistant readers love him, but Kaely finds herself developing strong feelings for him. [You screwed up your first sentence, spelled "Scotland" wrong in your second sentence, and spelled "nonexistent" wrong in your third sentence. Whoever's reading this will assume every sentence in your book has a mistake, and stop reading here.]

There's only one tiny problem, he's gay. Kaely's determined to turn him straight one way or the other but finds that extremely difficult. [What are the ways she tries?] But then she has a brilliant idea: pretend to be a guy to win Colin's heart then reveal the truth to him, [No wonder she's set her sights on a gay guy; a sixteen-year-old girl who can pass as a guy probably isn't getting much action from the straight guys.] and she'll document her progress on her blog to gain readers and reach her possible stardome. [That comma should be a colon in sentence 1, you need a comma after "heart" in sentence 2, and you spelled "stardom" wrong in sentence 3 (and in the sentence below this one).]

Soon enough, the blog kicks off as a national hit and Kaely must decide what's more important to her, her newfound stardome or true happiness. [She must give up her blog to achieve the happiness that comes with a romantic relationship with a gay guy?] [I've made you look like a complete fool on my blog for the past year. Now will you date me?]

Experimenting With Love is a YA realistic fiction romance complete at 67,000 words. [What's realistic about it?]

Thank you for your time and consideration,


Notes

You need to explain why Kaely has to decide between stardom and happiness. Why can't she have both? What will bring her happiness?

I don't see how this can be a romance if the heroine's crush is a gay guy.

You need to get rid of the errors in the query and in the book.

Cartoon 675

Caption: Evil Editor

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Face-Lift 789

Guess the Plot

Dark Inheritance

1. Sydney Fermoyle's got oil. Uncle Jack left him the wells, along with instructions for a ridiculous ritual that must be performed before each new drilling. When Sydney tosses the instructions, strange, shadowy creatures begin to haunt the wells.

2. Lorraine's late mother always referred to her childhood home as "the ancestral castle of pure evil." So when Lorraine learns that she's inherited the old house, she does what any goth girl would: she moves right in.

3. When 10-year-old Petra's eccentric Uncle Nox dies, she inherits his estate, the Kingdom of Night. But the evil troll Dunkel believes he is the rightful heir. Can Petra and her loyal bats and owls thwart Dunkel's evil schemes before her parents start enforcing curfew?

4. With few memories of Grandpa Pete, twelve-year-old Misty isn't sure how to feel about his death. When she's visited by Mabel, Herald of the Dark, Misty learns grandpa Pete wasn't just any old grandfather; he was Lord Dark, the only hero on Earth capable of holding the evil ghoul brigade at bay. Now that Misty has inherited that title, can she learn to wield Pete's wand in time?

5. Julia, 28 and lovely, is alone in the world after her parents die in a fire that left only a mound of ashes and two silver stakes. Rex Hamilton, the handsome executor of their wills, informs her that as the mortal child of two vampires, she must atone for every life they took or become a vampire herself. Horrified, Julia pleads for Rex's help -- but eventually she decides being a vampire is worth it. Could it be she saw Rex's billing rates?

6. Possessed by a demon, Una is in danger of losing her soul. She does have one ace in the hole: Dark Power, which she inherited from her mother. But is that enough to exorcise an incredibly strong demon before it takes control? Who knew being a teenager would be so aggravating?



Original Version

Your Esteemed Evilness,

Life sucks for Una White. Her mom is not only famous (for varied reasons) but also extremely overprotective and controlling. It doesn't help much that Una has the ability to read people so well that she can figure out what annoys someone in under five minutes. [If I'm annoying someone, it takes me only a few seconds to figure out what I'm doing . . . and to start doing even more of it.] [What are you saying, Una has a super power that allows her to look at a complete stranger and determine within five minutes that he is annoyed by people chewing their ice, even though Una hasn't seen anyone chew ice in his presence? I don't see how that would be useful except that she can avoid chewing ice in his presence, but as it takes her five minutes to figure out that he's annoyed by ice chewers, she might chew ice three minutes after meeting him, and then two minutes later she realizes that she's gotten off on the wrong foot. She needs to hone her skill so that she can tell what annoys someone within five seconds.] Safe to say that Mom doesn't much approve of Una's new bad boy beau, Auryen. [Apparently Auryen chews his ice?]

But when some of Mom's old enemies from her past [Your old enemies are always from the past.] come back for revenge, Una's caught in the crosshairs. [I think you better tell us what Mom is famous for, so we have an idea what form this revenge is likely to take.] Sporting a new Mark from their attack, she discovers that not only does she have an incredibly strong Demonica [Nice of you to capitalize the words I need to look up so I can find them more easily. I'm guessing a Demonica is a demon who, in a past existence, was football player Daryl Lamonica. No idea what a Mark is. Perhaps if I took up World of Warcraft it would all make sense?] using her for a host body but she also has some Dark Power that got genetically passed down to her from her mom.

Now it's a race against time to exorcize the demon from Una before the Mark spreads and Una loses control. But in order to rid Una of the demon, her mom must first trust Auryen because he may be the only one with the key to saving Una's soul.

Dark Inheritance is a Young Adult fantasy complete at 70,000 words.

Thank you,


Notes

It's not clear to me whether the Demonica is connected to Mom's enemies. Are the enemies responsible for the Demonica?

Also, I don't see how the Demonica can be described as "incredibly strong," when it's not even in control.

I don't see what the 3rd sentence has to do with anything. Why not start out:

Life sucks for Una White. Not only does she have an overprotective mom who doesn't approve of her boyfriend Auryen, but she's also possessed by a demon.

Then you can say something like: Luckily for Una, the demon is incredibly weak--so far--so there may be time to exorcise it before it takes control and kills her soul/destroys the Earth/ruins her birthday party.

In other words, what's at stake, and what does Una plan to do about it, and what's making it almost impossible to do it?

If you can avoid using the terms Demonica and Mark, all the better.

Cartoon 674

Caption: Anon.

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Synopsis 25

SYNOPSIS - JOSHUA AND THE FANTASTIC FOREST

If you haven't read the query for this novel, which was posted Friday the 25th, and you want to play Guess the Plot, scroll down now, as this synopsis gives away the plot. Of course, if you want to be able to say you got a Guess the Plot right for a change, read on.





Twelve-year-old Joshua Cooper finds out a walk in the woods can change his life forever with one chance meeting – or end it on a battlefield.

Bored as the new kid in town, he is desperate for friends and fun. He finds adventure in the mountain forest above his home when he encounters talking animals created from the DNA of highly-evolved animals that roamed the earth long ago and died out.

They share the story of their accidental transformation into prehistoric animals of amazing strength, senses and reason that lived on earth millions of years ago [That's pretty much the definition of "prehistoric."] and were blasted away by a siege of meteorites that left almost no trace behind. Almost.

When bumbling, old Mr. Bimble loses his walking stick it’s struck by lightning in the forest and explodes into shimmering dust that changes every creature it touches into the animals of long ago. What made his walking stick so special? It was carved from wood he dug up as a boy that carried the DNA of these ancient animals and their powers surged through him whenever he grasped it. [The first sentence of that paragraph needs to be in past tense. Otherwise it sounds like you're moving on to something new, rather than reporting the story the animals shared. In fact, you might combine the 2nd and 3rd paragraphs into:

They share the story of their accidental transformation: It seems when bumbling old Mr. Bimble lost his walking stick it was struck by lightning in the forest and exploded into shimmering dust that changed every creature it touched into prehistoric animals of amazing strength, senses and reason.]

Bound now with their new powers, these animals also carry the memories of the ancient ones and know [that] not all were decent and wise. [They know] within some [of them] lurked dark urges to plunder and conquer their own. Joshua and his friends wonder, could there be others like that now? All of this is forgotten in the idyllic days that follow as Joshua spends them soaring over the forest on a magnificent bald eagle, playing tag in the meadow with deer, [When you play tag with deer, you're pretty much always "it."] racing through the woods hanging onto the scruff of a mighty bear and sharing fireside tales with his best friend, a beaver. [Eagle, deer, bear, beaver? These are the highly evolved animals that lived in prehistoric times?]

Joshua realizes he can’t keep the secret of the animals to himself when he encounters Mr. Bimble searching for his lost walking stick [If you need a walking stick, it seems like you'd notice the moment you didn't have it, and not walk so far away from where you last had it that you have to go searching for it.] and Matt, a school bully, heading up the mountain to shoot off fireworks in the woods. He rescues them from a forest sinkhole and risks sharing the secret of the animals. The unlikely trio becomes friends and vows to protect their secret of their forest friends no matter what the consequence. [If I had wanted to keep the animals' secret, a bully is the last person I'd reveal it to. You can't trust a bully not to come back with nets and cages and trucks to capture the animals and start a circus.]

Joshua discovers Mr. Bimble is dying from cancer and with the help of his friends he devises a special magic DNA brew in the hopes to cure him with the animal powers. [Why is the DNA concoction magic? If magic exists, why not make the cancer cure from something more easily obtained than DNA? Peach pits, for instance?] They have no idea one of their own is creating his own DNA concoction, only not to cure – to create and conquer.

When a power-hungry fox carrying the dark seed of the prehistoric animals secretly transforms thousands of animals into his allies to rule the forest with his DNA, [My college molecular biology book didn't have this many DNA references.] Joshua must find a way to save his captured forest friends and stop the fox.

He rallies his comrades to raise their own army and build an arsenal of weapons to defend themselves in the battle of their lives. When Joshua leads his friends in bloody war against the evil animal hoard [horde] he is struck down near death and it is up to his friends to save him.

Victorious in battle, Joshua and his friends share a winter of peace. He is relieved to get back to the business of just being a boy. When spring blooms Mr. Bimble (completely cured of cancer by the magic brew) is invited [By whom?] to fly off to another secret place of fantastic animals deep in the South American jungle. He rises up on the back of his friend, the great eagle, waving goodbye to all in a shimmer of golden sun – to where they might never know. But one thing Joshua knows for sure, it will be the adventure of a lifetime. [And you can experience it by watching the movie Up.]


Notes

I'm willing to buy the lightning strike release of DNA transforming the animals, which is quite generous of me, but the idea of a kid and a fox (even a brilliant fox) whipping up DNA concoctions to cure cancer and transform animals?

I'm not crazy about DNA being behind the animals' transformation and the fox's scheme, and the kid's cancer cure. How about some variety? Unless DNA Man is in this book, someone in it oughta be able to accomplish something without using DNA. One begins to think if Josh had a flat tire on his bike he'd use DNA to fix it.

I'd rather hear about how Joshua was victorious in battle than about a winter of peace followed by Mr. Bimble flying south in the spring. What are Joshua's side's weapons? And don't say guns that shoot DNA.

Is it the animals who tell Joshua about the lightning striking the cane? Because I don't see how they would know lightning had struck the cane if they didn't exist until after the DNA dust touched them.

Cartoon 673

Caption: Whirlochre

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BREAKUP SCENE 7

A single tear rolled down the creature's face. ‘Sorry, I can't do this any more.’

Evil had seen this coming, but no augury could ease the pain. Six months, nine days and thirteen hours exactly: the longest he'd ever been with a weredingo. And now, like Schwarzenegger’s movie career, everything was so, so over.

‘What gives? Is it my snoring? My reading in bed? The ballistic action of my stud muffin thrust pipe?’

With a forlorn nod, the weredingo said, ‘No. It's because I'm a dog and you're a human.’

‘But I'm a hairy human — and you're a clever dog.’

Another forlorn nod, and Evil's soon-to-be ex-lover sloped out of the bed like a crestfallen Tribble. ‘Huh. That's another reason why I'm leaving.’

‘How so?’

‘You only ever wanted me for my brains. Never said anything about my beauty.’

Evil knew he had to try and console her, and fast. ‘Sure I didn’t. You’re ugly as sin. That’s the whole point of the weredingo species thing. Hey, if I’d wanted beauty I’d have bagged a minion.’

The dog’s head sank low, till its nose smeared the floor with the mucus of sorrow. ‘An evil writer-gobbling monster I may be. But for chrissake, I'm a GOIL first...’

‘Wait,’ said Evil, and followed the dog to the door. ‘You want I make out with a boy dog? As in Evil GAY Editor? I’ve got a reputation to uphold as well as a schlong like a novelty inflatable Knockwurst.’

The dog paused briefly in the doorway, as if recalling the long nights, the shared cinnamon buns; the shrieking, wailing and moaning of incandescent passion. ‘Goodbye EE.’

Consumed by sorrow and rage, Evil retrieved a Grisham bestseller from the Naughty Trunk and whipped it with his belt till the pages turned to powder.

--Whirlochre

BREAKUP SCENE 6

From a WIP: Mari and Rabi Isaacs were engaged, but Mari was just caught spying and knocked out by a blaster. Miles is Rabi’s commander.

Mari’s hand fell to the floor, ringless. She felt it dully, and tried to open her eyes.

“So, you’re the Rebels have known our codes for the last year.”

She tried to answer. Her lips moved in what might’ve been a “No,” a “What,” or a “Who,” but not a “Yes.” Her eyes opened but didn’t focus, and a line of drool trickled from the corner of her mouth.

[…]

Mari blinked again, and her eyes focused on the booted feet beside her. “R-Rabi?”

He looked down at her with hooded eyes. “How much did they pay you?”

Mari winced and closed her eyes again.

“Would you have gotten a bonus when we married? Would they have paid you each time—”

Miles laid a hand on the captain’s arm, and he stopped.

She swallowed, and her voice cracked when she spoke. “I didn’t… not… love you.”

“Of course.”

Her voice was coming back. “No pay.”

“But you are Mabinogion.”

“Who?” It wasn’t a question. She opened her eyes and followed the gray, unmarked uniform up to his face. A corner of her mouth twitched—answer enough.

“You said you didn’t spy for money,” Miles said. “Why did you do it?” Captain Isaacs caught his breath.

Mari didn’t answer for a moment. “Ideals.”

“You agreed with the rebels?”

“Yes.”

--_*rachel*_

BREAKUP SCENE 5

"I'm so glad you agreed to go out with me," I said.

"Yeah, well, I'm just doing this to piss off my boyfriend for canceling our date just because his mother died," she replied.

"I like a woman who's narcissistic, superficial, and vindictive," I told her, gambling she didn't know the meaning of any of the words.

"Thank you," she said. "So, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a body washer," I answered.

"I hope you don't mean you work at a car wash."

"No, no, you know how when a person gets murdered their bowel muscles release? The cops don't want to clean that up, so they call me in."

"I'm not sure I follow..."

"Basically, I undress corpses and hang them in this room I built in my basement and hose them down. Then I dry them off and drive them to the medical examiner for autopsy."

"You do this in your home?"

"It's a home-based business for now," I said, "but I'm looking into moving it to the mall."

"Listen, I just remembered there's a Petticoat Junction marathon on TV Land tonight." She left before I could give her a coupon.

Oh well, I thought, she lasted longer than they do when I admit I'm an editor.

--Evil Editor

BREAKUP SCENE 4

We went out to the garden after the last waltz and he asked me to marry him. He really thought I’d say yes. And I might have done. It was this time of year. If he’d asked in spring probably I would have said yes. But it was fall, and I thought how there were so many things I could do, and so little time; and if I married him that would be part of all the rest of my time, would change what I could do, make some things real and cut some things off; and how could I be sure that was what I wanted? For all my life? And I did want it, and that made me afraid. I just stood there and looked away from him, because I couldn’t stand looking at him. If he had just asked again, tried harder, or if he had started to leave—but he didn’t, he stood there and looked at me, and he asked what was wrong, and I told him.

And then he was so quiet that I turned to see what he was thinking. I could see my face in his eyes, we were standing that close. He laid his hand on my cheek, and I thought he’d tell me again that he loved me, and then I’d have to tell him I loved him, because I did, and that would be the end of it; and I didn’t know if I loved him or hated him more for being able to do that to me. But he just barely touched me, and he said “Live forever, Corinna, if you want to.” And then he pulled his hand back as if my skin had burned him, and he went away.

--Joanna Hoyt

BREAKUP SCENE 3

Each night, I knock on the inside of the back door to summon Zipper, my Greyhound, for his last exercise. Tonight, my porch door knocked back. To be precise, the door didn't knock but my friend Aaron knocked. He lay in a crumpled mess on the threshold. Zipper sniffed him "en passant" and ran into the yard.

"Even the dog hates me," Aaron moaned. He looked drunk. He smelled drunk. In fact, he smelled fallen down drunk and puked and shat and peed and out-and-out blotto.

"You're crapulent! How dare you knock me up?"

"Pub crawl night. Hooked up and then wrecked... 'bout a block away. You nearest..." His voice trailed off into spasms accompanied by hacking, gagging and farting noises. Fluids seeped onto my porch.

"God, are you a pig. Get on the gravel. I'm going to hose you down before letting you inside."

"Eight, nine times dude. What a slut." He crawled off the porch and stood on the gravel driveway. I picked up the hose and he dropped trouser and t-shirt. He squealed like a little girl as cold water blew the slime from his bare body.

"I got so lucky. We took that new aphrodisiac and she turned into a raging nymphomaniac. We did it for hours and hours, nonstop, never-ending, pleasure beyond anything you can imagine." He swept the water from his body with his hands, shivering and bluish, revealing red love marks in private places.

"I'll get a towel. Stay here. No reason to wet the carpet."

"She's yours tomorrow," Aaron said.

"Who? What? Mine?"

"Your girl Amy. I spent the night with her."

That's the first time I beat the crap out of Aaron. I beat him a second time the next day because the first felt so good. We haven't spoke since.

--Dave F.

BREAKUP SCENE 2

Mona let her fork drop. “This omelette tastes like poop.”

Moritz clucked. “Don't say 'poop', say 'shit.' You sound like a three year old. Say 'shit' like an adult.”

“What's so grown-up about using bad words?”

“See? See? You can't even use a word like 'adult.' You say 'grown-up.' That's such a juvenile word!”

“You were the one that said I was 'ignoring my inner kid'.”

“'Denying your inner child', I said, and I was talking about your inhibitions!”

“I'm not putting the diaper on. No way, I told you to forget it.”

“Fine, if you want to stay repressed.” Moritz abandoned his own omelette and turned away from the table, arms and legs crossed.

“You're just trying to bully me into weird sex, you bully!”

“I resent your implication that I'm trying to manipulate you merely for my own sexual gratification.”

Mona rolled her eyes. She loaded her fork with egg mass and catapulted it at Moritz. “Inner child food fight! Inner child food fight!” She yelled.

Moritz ducked. “Don't be so juvenile.”

“Don't be so juvenile! Don't be so juvenile!” Mona shot a mushroom at him. “Hey, we should get a parrot.”

Moritz dusted a mushroom off his shirt front. “Purchase a parrot if you like. I'm going to pack.” He arched his eyebrows, waiting.

Mona froze, fork loaded, and said nothing. She stared at him blankly. Then she let the tomato slice fly, crying “Look out, it stains!”

With a great deal of harumpfing and huffing, Moritz placed his belongings into his suitcases and departed.

Mona wrote up her notes with a satisfied smirk on her face. “The Persistence of Sexual Perversion in Male Graduate Psychology Students” was going to get her tenured for sure. Tomorrow, she would return to the “roommate wanted” section of the pin board in the psychology department and attempt to procure a new subject. Right now, she was going to call Domino's.

--Mother (Re)produces

BREAKUP SCENE 1

Pasted below is scene for your consideration. Feedback, please. I've had praise out the yazoo.

Siri leaned back in her chair, expression triumphant.

Ivo offered me his arm. "I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me, Fräulein Stader."

In front of the orchestra, couples spun to the music, shoes squeaking on the polished floor. The photographer pressed a fresh bulb into his reflector and motioned for us to begin.

Ivo took my hand in his and encircled my waist in his arm. I fought down a sob. This would be the last time we touched. He glided me to the center of the floor, and the photographer raised his camera. The flash exploded as bright as lightning.

"I'm sorry about tonight," Ivo said. "Siri insisted we come."

She hadn't told him, then. I nodded. I was afraid I couldn't speak without crying.

He seemed to sense my distress.

"Don't be upset."

"This is impossible."

He squeezed my hand. "You know I love you."

The photographer readied his camera, and I forced myself to smile. I couldn't tell Ivo about Siri, but I could end it here. "I can't see you anymore. Please try to understand."

He jerked his head back as if I'd slapped him. I couldn't let the photographer capture his expression. I bent my knee, causing Ivo to turn to support my weight. When the flash went off, his back was to the camera.

"Edalina, please."

The photographer walked over. "How about one more?"

Siri strode to Ivo's side. "Why not?" She slipped her arm around his. The jasmine scent in her perfume was overpowering. "With me, this time." She smiled at me and waved. "Au revoir, Mademoiselle Stader. Au revoir."

--David Greer

Saturday Film Series

Face-Lift 788

Guess the Plot

Joshua and the Fantastic Forest

1. After the Dreary Desert, the Crappy City and the Pathetic Polar Region, things are finally looking up for ten-year-old Joshua.

2. Eleven-year-old Joshua lives in the desert, not a tree in sight. But across the river is something he has only heard of, a forest. It's the answer to his prayers, plenty of wood for arrows, bows and even battering rams. But Moloch, god of fire, has his own plans for that wood. In a clash between the fire god and a hard-headed monotheist, only one will survive.

3. Eight year old Joshua Cohen is thrilled when his parents move to the Mojave Desert, home of the exotic Joshua trees. When he wanders into the lush juniper forest, he meets a strange guide who seems to be one of the trees. Also, a coyote who tells bad jokes.

4. Twelve-year-old Joshua is thrilled to discover a peaceful community of talking animals in the forest. When a power-hungry fox secretly transforms thousands of animals into his allies to rule the forest, Joshua raises his own army and builds an arsenal of weapons. Unfortunately, when he leads his troops in bloody war against the evil animal horde, he is struck down. Hey, at least he tried.

5. Nine-year-old Joshua Has been warned time and again not to go into the forest alone. Which of course makes it irresistible. What he finds is a trail of candy that leads to a house filled with video games and unhealthy snack foods. What could possibly go wrong?

6. After his amateur theatre group's hit production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, director Stitch Jones turns playwright. Egos inflate over who gets the lead until no one, including Stitch, can see the Fantastic Forest for the trees--until thirteen-year-old Joshua arrives, halo and all.


Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

Twelve-year old Joshua Cooper finds out a walk in the woods can change his life – or end it.

Bored as the new kid in town, he is desperate for adventure. He finds it in the forest when he befriends talking animals transformed accidentally from DNA of the same highly-evolved animals that lived millions of years ago and died out. [They're called dinosaurs. Sure, Hitchcock could have called his movie The Evil Flying Creatures Who Swoop out of the Sky and Attack Humans, but he decided the more subtle The Birds would be preferable--a decision that probably cost fifty million in box office receipts, but that's not the point.] He shares his magical world with two unlikely friends he rescues, [Rescues from what?] and they vow to protect the secret of their forest friends.

When a power-hungry fox secretly transforms thousands of animals with his prehistoric DNA into his allies to rule the forest, Joshua must find a way to save his captured friends [He just rescued them one sentence ago and they've already been captured? If someone I rescued was that careless, I'd just say, Screw you, and worry about my own safety.] and stop the fox. He rallies his comrades to raise their own army and build an arsenal of weapons to defend themselves in the battle of their lives.

When Joshua leads his friends in bloody war against the evil animal hoard [horde] he is struck down near death, and it is up to his friends to save him. [Usually when you reach the climax of the book, it's the main character doing the rescuing, not getting rescued.]

I am seeking your representation for my manuscript, JOSHUA AND THE FANTASTIC FOREST, a 52,000-word middle grade adventure.

Thank you for your time and consideration.


Notes

When the kids were building an arsenal of weapons I assumed we were talking about slingshots and pea shooters. Then it turns into bloody war, near-death, battle of their lives. Do the kids have machine guns and artillery? They must, if they're going to defeat thousands of animals, unless we're talking about chipmunks and bunnies.

The title leads me to believe I should read the book to my five-year-old. That the situation devolves into bloody war leads me to believe I should wait till he's six. Maybe it should be something like Joshua and the Animal War.

Aren't you worried that kids will pull for the animals instead of Joshua in this war?

Cartoon 672

Caption: Mother (Re)produces

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New Beginning 762

August 25th Hey everyone and happy first day of school. Hot Pink Party girl has had one busy summer. Do you realize how many guys are willing to get to second base while completely loaded? Yeah, pretty much all of them. Okay, so one turned me down and I had to listen to him yap and quote biblical scripture for twenty tortuous minutes. If that doesn't put out your fire, I don't know what does. My summer total was over thirty guys and let me tell you I've seen more little firemen (some smaller than others) in three months than I thought possible. That's all for now. Check back later. I'll be posting my review of the best party of the year. Love, Hot Pink Party Girl


I closed my laptop before the courtyard got too crowded. I'd probably have at least thirty comments in the next ten minutes because Hot Pink Party Girl fit in to nearly every crowd in this school. Me . . . not so much.

High school is just like the solar system. We all have a planet that we're stuck on. No hopping over to another environment for a few months. Even the freakin' NASA people hadn't figured out a way to put a man on Mars, so change in the structural make-up of high school wouldn't happen in the two year sentence I still had left to serve.

Until the end of last year I belonged to planet "I'd rather be drunk or high than in school." The great thing about that planet is you sweep blissfully through all the angst of teen years. But if you leave for any reason, it all hits you at once.

It all came back to me once the drugs and alcohol had fully left my system. How I spent a year with a guy I thought I was in love with. How was I supposed to know the biggest jock strap in school, Dick Richards, would turn out to be gay? Who knew I would find him hooking up with my ex-boyfriend at his mansion when all I wanted to do was surprise him with my new tattoo? In retrospect, I guess "I LOVE DICK" isn't the best thing to brand onto your face to show your endless love for a man.


Opening: Julie.....Continuation: Anon.

Cartoon 671

Caption: Anon.

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Face-Lift 787

Guess the Plot

This Changed World

1. This morning it was sunny. This afternoon, it rained. How will mankind adapt to a world where water falls from the sky?

2. Vampires Gabriel and Michael move to the little city of Oskaloosa to harvest blood from the unsuspecting--only to find their home besieged by vampire-crazed teenagers. Maybe they should have stayed at that retirement home on Key West.

3. Only forty years ago, children would walk ten miles to school in the snow, uphill both ways, work 25 hours a day and be happy. Now they're always twittering and face-blogging on the interwebs. And they're miserable. Except the ones on Prozac.

4. Raised by an all-American war hero father he could never measure up to, Bill decides to make his own mark on the world: he travels to Tibet to murder a monk who's the key to everlasting world peace.

5. At 43, Jack Skellar finds his world turned upside down. His teenaged daughter has shaved her head and his son wants a pet anteater. All becomes clear when Jack is beamed up to a UFO and told that he's going back to his home planet -- Earth!

6. Priscilla Denby time-travels from Victorian England to modern-day Manhattan and finds herself in a sex club. She's shocked by what she sees, but even more shocked to discover that she's the one lady every guy--and woman--in the place wants to hook up with.


Original Version

Dear Agent,

By the time Bill realized he should have let the boy die that day in Chengdu, Sichuan, instead of jumping in with CPR, it was too late. [For the boy was already alive.] The world changed the day he breathed life and pounded a pulse back into the still body. Natural disasters hit at an all time high. Bill's personal disasters ran a close second. The chain of calamities started when Bill interferred [interfered] and saved a life that wasn't meant to continue. [I don't see how he can make a connection between saving a life and an increase in natural disasters. It's like Evil Editor saying, "Man, there've been two floods, a tsunami, a disastrous hurricane and three earthquakes in the past decade; I never should have rejected that guy's manuscript in 1999."]

Bill decides to find the boy and when [he] does he's going to kill him. Not sure if he's crazy or right, [Traveling from the US to Tibet to murder a 14-year-old boy: crazy or right? Crazy or right? I'm just not sure.] Bill ends up face to face with the boy in Tibet where Bill is forced to rethink his decision. It's hard to murder a fourteen year old [but if it might solve your personal problems, it's worth it]. It is harder when he is a novitiate monk, lives in a temple and he could be the world's conduit to enlightenment and the peace it will bring - if you buy into the hype the kid's generated. [In other words, murdering a 14-year-old is easier if it's an eighth-grade girl who spends too much time on the phone?] The government, not fond of mass hysteria over any charismatic personality, doesn't believe the boy should live either. [But their armies have been thwarted in every attempt to murder him.] Bill's choices become much harder as he comes to know this simplistic boy. [The first rule of being a professional hitman is Don't spend a lot of time getting to know your target.]

Bill, raised in an all American home with a real war hero for a father who raised his 8 kids in his Voodoo religion, [I'm not sure I'd describe a home in which the father and eight kids practice the Voodoo religion as all-American.] [Bill could have saved a lot of trouble by staying home and sticking pins in a Tibetan monk doll.] has a few things to learn about the circle of life from the youngster he came to kill. [The circle of life? Isn't that where the lion eats the wildebeest and the lion dies and the insects eat the lion and the bird eats the insects and the crocodile eats the bird and the . . . wildebeest eats the crocodile? Wait, where'd I go wrong?]

This Changed World is complete at 60,000 words and I'm seeking representation.

Thank you for the time you took reading my query.

Sincerely,


Notes

We need to know why, out of the billions of things that happened right before the disasters started, Bill knows that his CPR incident is the one that's responsible.

Leave the Voodoo out of the query. It makes the story sound even nuttier.

So your novel attempts to solve the age-old moral dilemma: Is it better to have world peace with frequent natural disasters, or to be at war with occasional natural disasters?

Cartoon 670

Caption: Marissa Doyle

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New Beginning 761

We don't actually take our clothes off.

I'm not saying it's never happened, I mean, you know, there's been once or twice when a girl's had a few too many brandies from that special bottle Mirabelle keeps behind the bar. But that could happen anywhere.

Shadowlife has been here since Paloma was a Spanish fishing village with just a couple of beach restaurants for the tourists. The day I turned 18, I walked in looking for a job. I told Mirabelle I was new to the Costa but this old bloke drinking whisky in the dark piped up with the truth.

"That's Big Jim's girl," he said.

There was no use in denying it; if you asked around the place, you'd hear about my dad pretty quickly. He ripped off half the coast before he slipped away in the middle of the night, leaving us behind. My mamá still has a photo of him on the wall, half-grin on his face, winking at the camera. Mamá says he was a charmer. She never found anyone else. All my life, she’s been telling me never to risk happiness on a man, making me promise not to turn out like him and break her heart.

Well Mamá could talk. She was quite the little heartbreaker herself in her day. So which was it to be? Turn out like Big Jim, or turn out like--

"Yeah. Gotcha. What about that place, over there. Do the girls there take their clothes off?"

Brennans? They take everything off. Nothing left to the imagination there. If I was working there Mamá would kill--

"Think I'm gonna go to Brennans. Thanks for asking, though."


Opening: Sylvia.....Continuation: Anon.

Cartoon 669

Caption: Anon.

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Face-Lift 786

Guess the Plot

The Crystal Throne

1. The Crystal Throne has stood empty for years, and the Gwillillylanders are looking for its rightful occupant. They won't stop searching until they've had a gander at every last American high school girl with middling popularity and a funny name like "Jelissa" or "Blayke."

2. When Emily Loving and her husband Jake move to Martha's Vineyard, they know it will be a struggle to keep up with their famous neighbors, until Jake turns his rock-cutting hobby into a unique home business. When the son of a prominent politician expires of a drug overdose on top of Jake's brainchild,'The Crystal Throne', suddenly they are the talk of the nation.

3. Simeon, heir to the Crystal Throne, must choose a bride worthy of bearing the name and sons of his thousand-year-old dynasty. But his interfering mother wants him to marry Agatha, who possesses a formula for a non-streaking glass cleaner. Cleanliness ensues.

4. When Aluviae learns that she is one of the candidates to become the new goddess, she sets out for the Crystal Throne, for only the Crystal Throne can choose . . . the chosen one. Maybe she can talk the throne into choosing someone else. But suddenly all the other candidates are getting killed off. Can Aluviae protect the last other candidate, or will she be stuck being worshiped for eternity?

5. When their Queen is killed by leprechauns, the fae must find the next heir to the Crystal Throne before the evil Shamrock King seizes it. But will Barry Jones believe them when they tell him he's the heir, or will the 8th grader put them in a jar for the Science Fair?

6. Man I hate the toilets here. See through, cross and olive design, nothing can hide what they are used for. The worst part of living in the world of clear glass is the toilets: too fragile to hold my considerable bulk, making me have to semi squat which is difficult because I need new joints in both knees. So, as the Lord of the Nasty Sewer is my witness, I vow to become the Crystal Throne Nazi and rid the planet once and for all of these outdated under-reinforced see-through inventions. Someone has to bring dignity back to the downtrodden of the planet of the Crystal Throne as we have been dubbed by our American Standard planetary neighbors. So with hammer in hand off I go, beating off trolls, faeries, dragons and Mr. Clean clones to change my world.


Original Version

Dear EE,

The Goddess is dead, killed by a hostile god. A new goddess must arise before the god’s machinations blast across the world like a raging wildfire. [Save the simile for the book and tell us what the god will do.] Only the Crystal Throne can determine who will ascend. [Why should an inexperienced new goddess fare any better against the god than the Goddess did. Also, why are the new goddess and the god not capitalized, while the dead Goddess is? Unless . . . was The Goddess her superhero name?]

When a crystal glows in her hand, Aluviae, an army recruit, is horrified to discover she has been chosen as one of the few candidates. [Does everyone in the land hold a crystal? Or are special crystals delivered only to the candidates?] One of the girls is murdered [One of what girls?] and Aluviae thwarts an assassination attempt on the others. [Are all the candidates in Aluviae's army barracks? I'd think they'd be spread all over the land, making it difficult to attack or protect all of them.] Unwillingly, she sets out for the Crystal Throne, vowing she will keep the other girls alive in the hope that one of them will be chosen instead of her. [Here's the way I see it. If she keeps her vow, keeps the other candidates alive, she will have proven she deserves to be the Goddess. So her best strategy is to break her vow, letting most of them die and proving herself unreliable and unworthy.]

Nothing goes to plan. An old adversary is part of the escort. Safe havens are under siege. Hunted by the god’s disciples, Aluviae is hard pressed just to keep herself alive as, one by one, the other candidates fall to ambush, treachery and war. [This is going perfectly. No way will the Crystal Throne choose Aluviae now.] [If the candidates are all killed, won't the Crystal Throne just nominate a new batch of candidates?]

When only one other girl still survives, two refugees and an intriguing stranger with a secret past may be the key to saving Aluviae from a destiny she fears. [I wasn't going to request this, but now that you've mentioned an intriguing stranger with a secret past, I simply must read the entire book to find out who it is and what the secret is.]

The Crystal Throne, a YA heroic fantasy, is complete at 90,000 words.

Thank you for your time and consideration,


Notes

Is making it to the Crystal Throne a test to see who's worthy of being The Goddess? Or is it normally just a leisurely trip?

So, when the candidates get to the Crystal Throne, they all sit on it and then it chooses the one who makes the best impression?

We need to know what's at stake. The god wants to destroy all or rule like a tyrant, but if the right candidate makes it to the Crystal Throne and ascends to Goddesshood, the god will slink away and all will be well?

Cartoon 668

Caption: Mother (Re)produces

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20-word Challenge 6

The BARONET was getting old. He knew this to be true when his only reaction to the letter was “Damned SMART ALECK.” He crumpled the CORRESPONDENCE and threw it at the trash BIN with the greatest fury he could muster.

He missed.

Moments like this made him feel like a WADING BIRD in QUICKSAND. He needed to find a way out, but only seemed to be digging himself deeper. And his time was growing short. He needed to RECTIFY this situation with great CELERITY.

His rise from a common man fighting the evils of an unjust society to the Baronet, a super VILLIAN bent on world destruction, was as inevitable as the EVOLUTION of a PREHENSILE tail. But the world had long since forgotten him.

“They need to know my story,” he thought, “to remind them of the futility of the world they have created, like drinking VINEGAR to cure a facial TIC. They need someone to take them out of their FANTASY lives.”

He grabbed his ZITHER and walked to the window. Looking down upon the city, he began to play. Retirement was not working well for him. The ITCH had returned. He needed to do something. To REVOLUTIONIZE. But his existence had become nothing more than a SUFFIX on a poorly placed adverb.

How would his story ever be told when the DESIGNATION of such lay in the hands of some mutton-chopped freak? How could a mere 300 words ever be a MEASUREMENT of his life?

He set his zither against the wall, returned to the trash bin and picked up the crumpled letter. He slid his maps and bomb diagrams aside, neatly stacked the surveillance photos of his new, mutton-chopped arch nemesis at the corner of his desk. Those plans could wait.

Now for one more revision.

--J. K. McMullin

20-word Challenge 5

Like SHRAPNEL from a frog exploding in a FULL-BLOWN WINDSTORM, the flavenoids of Evil Editor's CRULLER exploded on the TRILLION GANGLIA in his tongue. He swallowed, then picked up the top query from his pile like a debutante removing a tick from her armpit and read the first sentence: Please consider for publication my study in CLASSICISM, a novel I modestly call BLENCH.

EE balled up the query and tossed it in the toilet, wondering if it would sink or FLOAT.

The next query was no better:

Dear Evil Editor:

Over the course of my life I have been a CERTIFIED PUBLIC ACCOUNTANT, a SEWING MACHINE repairman, and a STOVEPIPE hat model. Having found it IMPOSSIBLE to make ANYTHING of myself in these fields, I'm hoping my novel INDEMNIFICATION might gain me a TOEHOLD in the publishing industry.

It's the story of a PACIFIST who lives DOWNSTAIRS from an unstable soldier of fortune who wants to DISMANTLE the government like a mechanic dismantles an engine, steam-cleans it, and rebuilds it with the same parts while charging you for a new one.

The query shot into the fireplace like an ARROWHEAD into a paleface's skull. EE then threw the rest of the pile in with it and buzzed Mrs. V. "Bring me another cruller," he said. "I've had a rough morning."

--Evil Editor

20-word Challenge 4

Critics Corner

Last night I, Isaac Flagellinelli, watched EE leave his SHOWROOM for a DEBUT of art as un-uniquely INDISTINGUISHABLE as homologous anteater noses and tails; a showroom encumbered with his SWAN and SKELETONS Art Show, emerging like newborn SCROD. I CONSIDERED that ACCOLADES and praises from non-ersatz critics like me might be as sparse as NONPRESCRIPTION ploys for OSTEOPOROSIS cures and as MISSTATED as PLOYS from WAMPUM-wanting pavement princesses. I eschewed his LIAR agents, his PRIVATION, an inconvenient OVERLAP, all details merging into his circuitous and cockeyed career like deranged SOCK puppets feasting on ceviche of scrod. CONVENIENCE dictated his mute renditions of "life," SOWN on a sirocco as spare and mincing as string cheese with collards, flamingos placed HARUM-SCARUM, higgledy-piggedly in potshards like blanched olives in sweet wine. I, Isaac Flagellinelli, declare EE's artistic coming out, accolades.

--Dave F.

20-word Challenge 3

“Moron,” I said to him, looking at the Glop of shit on his page. “You really think that EE is going to wade Through that crap?” The man had no voice. Sort of like a mute, but who talked. Incessantly.

“My story would be as good as yours, except it doesn’t have any Photography,” he said in a Faint voice. “You don’t think you could loan me one of your Hundred pictures?”

“Your story is boring. Who wants to read about the Liquidity of the housing market? Or how your Escrow account needs to be followed hourly? For a work of fiction, you have no plot.”

He started Pressing me again about the pictures. “Just one? Maybe the one with the girl with the Hourglass figure?”

“Why do you think I Am interested in helping you out? I’m leaving; I’m placing my Boot on this Stair right here, because I don’t want to see EE’s face when he realizes that he has to read that drivel.” I was afraid to Entrench any more in his office; the free doughnut hour at the bakery was over. The pages scattered all over the floor, like the people at Jesus’ feet who begged for money.

But I was too late. I heard the Motorcycle revving up outside like a Warship waiting for battle. EE stormed in, his stomach heaving, with his eyes rolling like a Copycat who just realized they sat next to someone who only wrote Japanese. “There is paper all over my office! How will you Expiate yourselves for this mess?”

“Here’s a picture of Sandra Bullock, sir,” I said hastily. EE’s eyes brightened like a Rupee in the sun. “Come on, Grisham.”

--Shoshana Beaubahna

20-word Challenge 2

Margo, the ex-DRUM MAJORETTE with a HATRED of UNDERHANDED CASINO workers and a slight gambling problem, prayed to GOD that her DNA was normal, PETRIFIED about what the outcome MAY be.

The doctor entered the room and threw the handmade world cup SCORECARD onto the desk with a SLAM. He had a SURLY appearance, white mutton-chops and a pair of pince nez and a wide set frame used in the CURTAILMENT of BUOYANCY.

“Your condition, my dear, was almost harder to find than an amish ORGY. You see, when the MHZ coming off of your radio COLLIDE with the TRESTLE of nerves supporting your spinal cord, you are left with bulbous sores that have little to no DRAINAGE and mutate your DNA, leaving you with the crazy desire to write an 89,652 word manuscript about angels that work at the cheese factory .”

“But-” Margo decided to PIP in.

“But nothing,” Dr. Evil Editor said. “Curing your condition will be harder than using TOUCH-TYPE to write in Portuguese, but nothing is impossible, other than writing a query Evil Editor will love.”

So, Dr. Evil Editor took out a scalpel and began to cut.

--Kate

20-word Challenge 1

The most Hysterical part of my every day was when that "Scandalmonger" Jerry arrived at his Predestination -- the Deli.

He was Solely in the Spotlight for my Docudrama because getting him to Communicate nicely was like trying to Ennoble a Bantamweight. They all said Jerry was a Detriment to the staff because he presented Stumbling Blocks to customers like a cactus does to over-zealous tree-huggers. Some people liked to call him a Knothole, or a Boron; I preferred the term Democrat.

Why? My opinions would be more like the gospel than a Liturgical passage this way.

Today in the Deli, I was Reading Jerry's face, waiting for him to Mobilize. He arose from Beneath the counter, clutching his butcher's knife like an Evil Editor does his red pen.

"Whaddya want? I told you I don't wanna Subscribe to your work."

"Smile for the camera!"

After taking a quick snapshot, I fled out of the Deli to continue working on my Docudrama.

--Laura

Saturday Film Series

Triple Feature!

The task was to write a screenplay, given a series of photographs.

Face-Lift 785

Guess the Plot

Born to Die

1. The most cynical retelling of the life of Christ ever.

2. Rock legend Jimmy Owen has led a remarkable life full of money, power and intense drug fueled orgies . But here we look only at his unremarkable birth and untimely death from a bowel obstruction.

3. Sentenced to die in a concentration camp run by magicians, 16-year old Nayla escapes and joins an underground group seeking a plan to defeat the oppressors. When Nayla suggests attacking them with guns, she lifts the spirits of the citizenry and changes the course of history.

4. I want to live/I want to fly/But all I am is/Born to die. The cliched poem left in a pink notebook on the bus intrigues struggling singer Barry. Setting it to music, he soon has a hot record. But can he find the original writer--and will she be who--or what--he hopes?

5. Min Ki, the last mortal, searches for a storied fountain that will grant eternal life and let her live with her tribe of immortals forever. But her plans are complicated when she meets and falls in love with Xie, a young man on a quest to become mortal.

6. Phillip was born with a curse on his head: everyone around him dies horribly. When the government finds out, they stuff him in a uniform and send him overseas to be captured by enemy troops. Hilarity ensues.




Original Version

Dear Evil Editor,

Nayla Ebriony [Anagram: brainy alien] is a sixteen-year-old Yeeod [Anagram: yodelayheehoo], born without magical powers, and sent to the concentration camps where the powerless are worked to death. [When they were deciding what to call anagrams, shouldn't they have come up with a word that actually had an anagram?] [Is it worth the cost of keeping a girl alive for sixteen years if your plan is to then work her to death?]

Her hair is shaved off and the brand of the powerless Yeeods is burned into her scalp. [Shouldn't they brand her somewhere it'll be visible after her hair grows back? If she somehow manages to escape, the only way to find her is to shave everyone's head.] Determined to save herself from forever losing her identity and sanity, Nayla manages to escape after being drugged, beaten and forced to work in the coal mines. [A sixteen-year-old girl wouldn't last a day in a coal mine. For one thing, there's no cell phone reception down there.] Presumed dead by her captors,

[Concentration camp guard: Lois Smith?
Lois: Here.
Concentration camp guard: Jane Martin?
Jane: Here.
Concentration camp guard: Nayla Ebriony? . . . Nayla Ebriony? . . . Hmm, must be dead. Mary Jones?]

Nayla has a choice: run or turn back and bite the hand that hit her. [Creating a new idiom out of an old one doesn't work. Go with the tried and true: "Settle the score." Or (thank you Thesaurus.com): "Pluck the crow" or "Pickle the rod."]

Choosing the tougher path, Nayla joins the Liberators, an underground society preparing for war against the government. She earns respect in the male dominated rebel clan, when she presents a plan that they believe will topple the magicians' regime. Pitting stolen assault rifles and hand grenades against the power of magic, [A male-dominated army needs a sixteen-year-old girl to suggest using guns and grenades to win a war?] Nayla and the rebels declare war on the place they once called home. [Proper etiquette requires that even an underground rebel group taking on evil slavers actually declare war before engaging in battle.] Nayla knows this might turn into a suicide mission, but as she lifts the spirits and the sympathy of regular magical citizens, even the magicians start to fear the uprising that will change the course of history. [Until they remember that they're magicians and turn everyone except themselves into daisies.]

BORN TO DIE is a fast-paced, 90,000 word YA Urban Fantasy novel. Thank you for your time and your consideration.


Notes

Why don't the magicians just kill the Yeeods and use magic to create coal? Powerful magicians must have something better to do than run concentration camps.

Try reducing everything before Nayla joins the Liberators to two sentences, leaving more room for Nayla's plan and how things go in the war. Something like: Drugged, beaten and forced to work in the coal mines, 16-year old Nayla Ebriony escapes the evil magicians who rule Yaya IV. She joins the Liberators and pickles the rod.

Cartoon 667

Caption: Anon.

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New Beginning 760

The sky vanished. Borne on the backs of ravenous winds, the sands raged, swallowing the infinite, cloudless blue. With its demise failed the sun, the day reduced to unseemly dusk. A howl tore through the desert, and the ground shook and groaned in protest.

Caught in the heart of the storm's onslaught were two figures. Indistinguishable in their roan hoods and cloaks, clutched jealously to themselves lest the furious gales snatch their protective gear from their bodies and leave them naked to the harshest of nature’s whims, they trudged onwards, struggling to stay afoot, fighting to stay alive.

Ankle-deep in the shifting, sinking sand, the first of the two travelers, a Priestess, led the way. Her stride was clumsy, encumbered by the sand that weighed her feet down, and yet filled with unshakable purpose, a firm resolve that was marred only by the slightest hint of desperation in her eyes. The second, a Wizard, lagged behind a short distance.

"We're not going to find it in this storm!" he shouted to the woman in front of him. His voice was coarse, raw from too much yelling to be heard over the din.

The Priestess neither halted nor turned.

"Well say something," the Wizard implored.

She did not even break her stride.

"Okay, okay," he screamed, the sand scratching at his throat. "You win. I'll ask the next person we see."


Opening: Michael C. Logarta.....Continuation: Anon.

Cartoon 666

Caption: Khazar-khum

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Face-Lift 784

Guess the Plot

One Man's Treasure

1. An archaelology professor desperate for tenure. A son trying to pay his father's debt to international arms dealers. A monk on a mission from God. Everyone wants to get his hands on St. Peter's beard comb.

2. A sweeping, generational tale that begins with one man and a metal detector on a lonely, wind-swept beach and ends with a four page sentence that can't fail to impress the Booker committee.

3. Systems analyst David Schultz can't believe his luck when he meets beautiful nurse Jenny Heart. But Jenny doesn't understand David's intense love of Star Wars memorabilia and insists he sell his entire collection on eBay. Is getting a real girlfriend worth . . . One Man's Treasure?

4. One man's trash is another man's treasure, or so the saying goes. Ted thinks he's in luck when he finds incriminating photos in a Hollywood mogul's trashcan, but the newspapers aren't the only ones who are interested.

5. One man's treasure is another man's trash, or so the saying goes. But when the existence of an entire planet depends on that treasure, it's trash to no man. Well, except maybe men from another planet. Who, naturally, will stop at nothing to get it, even if it turns out to be trash.

6. When the town of Nutville closes the local dump and opens a waste transfer station, "One Man" Dooley is caught breaking in after hours in defiance of regulations protecting other men's trash.

7. Desmond ignores warnings that it's dangerous to keep hoarding newspapers, tin cans, and lumber. Because when the sheer mass of his condemned house warps time and space around it, he'll be able to travel into a neighboring dimension -- he'll show them -- he'll show them all!


Original Version

Dear Evil Editor

I am seeking representation for my science fiction novel, One Man’s Treasure [That's a rather pessimistic title to give your novel.] (80,000 words).

Spacers visit Arrax’s world every few years. They stay long enough to reprovision their ships with essentials like water, [liquor and women,] and then move on.

This time the spacers are back early. This time they’re searching for treasure.

For Arrax, the local leader, their reappearance couldn’t have come at a worse time. Salle, the head of his spy network, has just been murdered. He himself is weakened by poison meant for Salle.

[Arrax: I've been poisoned! Where's the cook?
Cook: You've been poisoned? Shit, I meant to poison the head of your spy network.
Arrax: Well, next time be more careful.]

Not only that, the woman he and Salle defeated fifteen years ago has returned, and seems determined to resume the wars she started back then. [One woman started multiple wars? What does it take to start a war in this place, eye contact?]

Treasure hunting spacers are the last thing he needs, especially not ones looking for Callan’s fabled treasure. [Who's Callan? You need to tell us what Callan's fabled treasure is. If for no other reason than it's hard to write the true Guess the Plot without knowing what it is that's motivating all the characters.] [Also, do the spacers have a treasure map? Because searching an entire world for a specific treasure seems hopeless.] Because one man’s treasure is not necessarily another’s, and Arrax knows that if the spacers find what they are looking for he and his people are doomed.

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


Notes

You've described the situation that exists on Arrax's world when the spacers show up. That's all backstory. Your main plot is what happens after the spacers show up. We want to know some of that.

It seems odd, if Arrax got the poison intended for Salle, that Arrax lived and Salle died. Was everyone trying to murder Salle?

Without knowing what the treasure is, we fail to appreciate the urgency of stopping the spacers from finding it. Telling us they're doomed isn't enough, especially as we don't even know if they're good guys or villains. Can you say something that makes us care about Arrax and his people, and tells us what's at stake?

Cartoon 665

Caption: Anon.

Your caption on the next cartoon! Link in sidebar.

New Beginning 759

Even in space, some neighbourhoods are better than others.

A neighbourhood, called a drift because, well, it drifts in space, might appear anywhere a stable wormhole is found. The stream of guaranteed interstellar traffic brings out innkeepers, traders, quantum-drive mechanics and the usual hangers-on at any port town: smugglers, gamblers, good-time girls. Agglomerate Drifts are the flotsam of the galaxy in both building materials and population, aggregating wherever there’s a potential profit and eaten away over time by corruption, meteorites and solar storms. Conglomerate drifts, on the other hand, are created by mega-corps as tidy flotillas of model ships, not all the same model but with every line and sail – and citizen – purpose-built for the locale.

Working security on a Conglomerate-built drift is like being a traffic warden in any gated community: you spend your days petting the dogs and smiling at the nice ladies (Pyretia has some very nice ladies). So it was unusual to hear one morning of a body bobbing against a tony porthole high up on Canton C-7. A human body, not some stray hunk of celestial rock from the asteroid belt.

See that's the other thing with working security. A rent-a-cop's just one step up from janitor, and it's left to me to keep the place looking neat and dispose of the garbage.

* * *

"How're you doing, Mrs. Munkin?" She's a particularly nice resident of the drift, and not too stuck up to shoot the proverbial with the staff. Especially since her husband left her. Security gets to know these things.

"Same old, same old," she told me and smiled those pearly whites of hers.

"Hey little fella," I said, kneeling down to pat her little terrier. "I got something here for you..."

"Oh my, wherever did you get that? You're always so nice to my little Rocky," she said. "Not like..."

"No worries, Mrs. M. I love this little fella." And if all goes according to plan, Rocky won't be the only one getting a big, meaty bone today...


Opening: Jeb.....Continuation: Anon.

Cartoon 664

Caption: Mother (Re)produces

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Face-Lift 783

Guess the Plot

A Tale of Youth and Sorrow

1. Behind the bars: wailing and weeping. Outside: the holy object lies alone, unreachable. Will any hero rise and save the day? Who will come and reunite Sammy with his blankie?

2. Like, this one time, my parents go, "Clean your room," when i already had, like, way too much homework, dude. Life can be so unfair.

3. Jack Sorrow, New York's toughest homicide detective, quickly learns that today's kids are even more dangerous than he thought when his partner is found murdered at a tough inner city Kindergarten.

4. When 12-year-old Minette Bublee finds evidence that her boozing, potty-mouthed, ill-tempered guardian is a minion of the demon Belphelial, she unwittingly opens a door into an arcane realm where past and present intertwine and a confrontation with a grim remnant of her world's tumultuous history transforms a young woman into a monster.

5. The son of a fallen politician, eighteen-year-old Devon joined the police force to help restore the family name. But as he becomes entangled in corruption, a dangerous affair, and an unsolvable sex slavery case, he careens toward his own fall from grace. Also, an incorrigible cat.

6. When fairy tales become classics, their characters get immortality instead of a slow, fading death. Can Princess Ytira convince her wicked stepmother and bumbling godmother to work together long enough to make their shambles of a story memorable?



Original Version

Dear Agent X:

Twelve-year-old orphan and Potioneer girl Minette Bublee knows next to nothing about the Rogue, Ilona Njis; the boozing, potty-mouthed, ill-tempered master thief who, strangely enough, has been her guardian for the past two years. Then comes the shocking revelation: that Ilona is a murderer, and possibly linked to Belphelial, a restless demon rumored to have broken free from the bonds of his ancient prison. [That's more than enough info for one paragraph. Start a new one here.] [But first let's cut it back to what's essential. Do we need to know Minette is a Potioneer girl? I have to guess what that means, and then I have to consult Google to make sure I'm right, which I don't feel like doing in the first line of a query. Turns out it's pretty much what it sounds like, but that it's not capitalized unless it's part of the title Master Potioneer. No way do you become a Master Potioneer at the age of 12. Also, if this wasn't a word before Harry Potter, I'm not sure it's suddenly become one. Belphelial is "rumored to have broken free"? You've read the whole book; did he break free or not? We don't need to know about rumors that prove false. You tell us Minette knows next to nothing about Ilona, and immediately reel off a list of things Minette knows about Ilona. Why is "Rogue" capitalized? Is it Ilona's superhero name? There's already a superhero named Rogue. Okay, so what have we got? Two years after the death of her parents, Minette Bublee learns that her ill-tempered guardian Ilona is a murderer--and possibly a minion of the demon Belphelial.] Torn between escape and saving her only friend [With friends like a boozing, potty-mouthed, ill-tempered murderer, who needs enemies?] from spiraling further into self-destruction, Minette unwittingly opens a door into an arcane realm, where past and present intertwine, and a confrontation with a grim remnant of their world's tumultuous history [I need a glass of bubbly.] transforms a young woman into a monster. [Is the young woman Ilona or Minette? I don't consider 12-year-olds women.] [That sounds impressive, like you were writing the script for a movie trailer. Unfortunately, it's vague. I'd keep: As she tries to stop Ilona from spiraling further into self-destruction, Minette unwittingly opens a door into an arcane realm where past and present intertwine. Now we're down to two sentences of back story. Put them together as your first paragraph and you have plenty of room to give us specifics about your story, which starts when Minette enters the arcane world. What does she do? Start whipping up potions? Is her goal to save Ilona? Defeat Beelzebub? Get home? Save the world? What's she got going for her that gives her the slightest chance of doing any of this?] With the ghosts of their yesteryears threatening to tear them apart, Minette will voyage through time to learn one of life's greatest lessons, and unlock the secrets of a power greater than any magic. [That's a good last sentence if it follows some specifics about the story. Here it's just more vagueness.]

I am seeking representation for A Tale of Youth and Sorrow, my 53,400-word young adult fantasy novel. [That title sounds more like Anne Frank's bio than wizard kid vs. demon.] I am querying you because of your interest in this particular genre.

Five of my short stories were published in Malate Literary Folio (De La Salle University, Philippines) between 1997 and 2002, one of which won second place in my university's 1999 Literary Awards. [Leave this out. Everyone knows that all Philippines award ceremonies are fixed.] A member of Writing.com, I received the 2007 WDC Wonderfuls Award for outstanding writing. [Leave this out, and suggest to WDC that they come up with a better name for their awards.] In my most recent job, I was a game writer tasked with the detailed write-ups of characters, settings, and stories for games. [Leave this out; it's a deal killer.] I am currently residing in the Philippines.

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

Sincerely yours,


Notes

With a 12-year-old main character, you're looking at readers who may be 10. You might want to show in the query that you can write for this audience by using less-complex sentences.

There's nothing in the query about what happens in the book, except a door gets opened to some realm and there's some time travel to . . . some other time.