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Our generous panel of authors is once again poised to critique the entries that didn't make it to the next round of the
Line-by-line contest. Our judge,
Natalie Fischer, did not find them compelling enough to keep reading, so we'd like to see if the first five sentences can be strengthened.
Over the next week, the authors will comment on any entry for which they have suggestions. We invite you to kindly and respectfully do the same. Please include appropriate praise as well.
The entries will appear below this post. Please participate. This is an amazing learning opportunity for every YA and MG writer!
Please Give a Warm Welcome to Our Participating Authors:- Barrie Summy writes a humorous tween/teen mystery series for Random House. Her books include I SO DON'T DO MYSTERIES, I SO DON'T DO SPOOKY, the just-released I SO DON'T DO MAKEUP and the upcoming I SO DON'T DO FAMOUS. She lives in San Diego with her husband, four chatty children, a dog named Dorothy, two veiled chameleons and 83 chameleon eggs. She is addicted to the internet and licorice.
- Riley Carney is seventeen years old and has written seven MG/YA novels. The first book of the five-book Reign of the Elements Series,The Fire Stone, was released January 2010, and the second book, The Water Stone, will be released August 2010. Riley is passionate about promoting global literacy through the nonprofit corporation that she founded because she believes that the way to help children break the cycle of poverty and exploitation is through literacy.
- Tracy Clark has completed two YA novels and is currently working on her third. She is represented by Michael Bourret of Dystel & Goderich Literary Management. She’s a wife, mother, lover of words, private pilot and irredeemable dreamer. Tracy was mentored by bestselling author, Ellen Hopkins, in the NV SCBWI Mentor Program.
- When Cole Gibsen isn't writing she can be found shaking her booty in a zumba class, picking off her nail polish, or drinking straight from the jug (when no one is looking). Cole's debut YA paranormal, Katana, is due out from Flux in spring, 2012.
- Tahereh a.k.a. T.H. Mafi works as a graphic designer. Her blog Grab a Pen consistently entertains the masses. She writes YA novels and is represented by the ever-fabulous Amy Tipton of Signature Literary Agency.
- Lisa Green is not a demon, ghost, vampire, fairy or shape-shifter*. She has, however, enjoyed reading and writing about them since the age of seven. Her short stories and poems have been featured in several online magazines and her manuscripts are represented by the amazing Rubin Pfeffer of East-West Literary.
- Maurissa Guibord is a YA author whose d
“You don’t know what it’s like not knowing if you’re like your real mom or dad,” Jasmine said. She knew she shouldn’t have called her birthparents that—her Mom and Dad—the moment it came out of her mouth. She didn’t even know them. But although she was twelve now, she still couldn’t stop thinking about them and wondering who they were.
“I just wish I knew who’s tall like me or who likes swimming,” Jasmine said, clutching the small photo album of herself in the orphanage in China that her mom had made for her.
It would probably be helpful to know a tiny bit about the Arcanom story because it is a fantasy :D
In a war against a sorcerers, gifted young mages must be summoned against their will to become soldiers at an academy of magic.
-------------
Yeah, it was gross, but with only seconds to spare Allix had no choice. Without hesitation she plunged her fist into the toilet bowl and waited.
Soon bubbles escaped from the tiny vents in her clamped hand, and the cool water quickly heated to a simmer, making the experiment a major fail on an epic scale.
Despite her best effort, the hand would heat up, the vision would come, then god knows what. At least this time nothing would get burned.
I have a secret. I know things. Lots of things. Like I know that my math teacher, Mr. Bugg, is going to pick his nose and wipe a boogie on the back of his smiley face tie when he turns around to write on the board. And I know that Lacey, who sits next to me, is hoping that Jon, who sits behind me, asks her to our eighth-grade school dance.
(Happy Birthday, Buffy!)
Anna threw open the barn door and smiled at Fancy, who stamped her foot and stuck her head over the stall opening. Her mane trembled with excitement and Anna's hands began to tingle.
Oh, how she loved Fancy's hay-fresh breath and their usual early morning quest to outstare each other.
Anna jabbed her boots into the dirt, determined to win. Fancy tensed her muscles, and swished her long tail.
Angela Fortunata woke up with a thump and a whack. What woke her, what had woken her every morning for the past two years, was pain. She had fallen out of bed again, thumped her head on the floor, and whacked her outstretched hand on the open drawer of her nightstand.
Angela lay on the floor, nursing her wounds until she heard the screech of her alarm clock. She winced as she stood up and reached to silence it, reminding herself for the hundredth time to change the alarm setting to music.
The shriek of my cell phone in the quiet classroom meant only one thing: the killer had found us again.
My fingers fumbled, palms slick with dread, but I had to answer on the first ring—that was the rule.
I raised the phone to my ear and was out of my chair even before I heard my mother’s panicked command: Run.
With shaking hands I stuffed my books and notes into my bag—we could leave nothing personal behind; that was another rule. I raced past the scowling teacher, knowing every minute, every second, brought the killer closer.
My hand hovered over the latch, my stomach churning. What I did today, I had never done before, and boy was I gonna get it!
Pa’s work clothes lay in a pile outside the door waiting for one of my sisters to beat the coal dust out of them. Inside the house was silent. No laughter, no singing, no happy chatter.
I’d heard of signs of the apocalypse, but I didn’t know that one of them was a crazy guy wandering out of a forest and into my favorite hangout. Okay, it wasn’t exactly the end of the world, but it was the end of the life I’d known for the past twelve years.
It started like any other day off from school. My sister, Holly, and I had gone to the park to try out the new bike ramps, and I was about to climb the biggest ramp when the vision hit me. Some people might think having visions was cool, but for me it was a curse.
What kind of animal sounds like a woman singing?
The beach was empty of people, but the air was filled with a haunting melody. It flew across the sea, bounced off the pounding surf and blew around me like an eerie sea-breeze as I walked along the shore. Slanting rays of sunset splashed the horizon pink and orange as gentle wavelets licked at my feet.
Sounds great, doesn’t it?
The newspapers all said it was an accident. That there was no reason to suspect any foul play had been involved. That the lake was swollen from the recent rains, and he hadn’t been a particularly strong swimmer to begin with. It was tragic, yeah—but things like this happened.
My mom’s hand rested lightly on my shoulder, in what I think was an attempt to be comforting.
I was born Rufus William Gunther Chase, but people who know me call me Spoon. I was named for two grandfathers and one grandmother. Lucky for me, between my two grandmothers, my parents chose Grandma Gunther, or my name would have been Rufus William Mary Elizabeth Chase.
I earned the nickname Spoon in an ordinary way thanks to my older sister Natalie, who by the age four had gotten used to tea parties for three and giving her dolls French names like Yvette and Pierre (formerly known as Raggedy Ann and Andy). After our parents brought me home, Natalie was scrambling for a fourth place setting at the children's dining table.
Riding to school with Max Holden is only slightly less traumatizing than riding the big yellow bus.
I remind myself of that fact every morning when I cross the lawn from my front yard into his, headed for his already-running F-150. You’d be colder at the bus stop, I think as my feet crunch through frosty grass. Bus fumes are worse, I tell myself, hurrying through clouds of stinky exhaust that pour from his truck’s tail pipe. The bus doesn’t even have music, I consider as the unmistakably twang of classic country leaks from the cab.
I always knew my name would get me into trouble one day. I just didn’t think it would take this long. Maybe I have a slow fuse or a short attention span or something, but, anyway, it finally happened - I snapped. And my name got me in trouble.
Seriously, with a name like Irene Goode, the probability ranked pretty high, if you know what I mean
Ellen’s forehead cracked painfully against the window as her Aunt’s ancient pick-up hit a huge hole in the questionable country road, waking her from the most bizarre dream. A vague memory of writhing vines only amplified her desire to vomit. She swallowed, one hand over her mouth and the other clenching her seatbelt.
Aunt Marg chuckled beside her.
“Sorry about the road, the pot holes get bigger every year,” Aunt Marg said, her ever-present smile making dimples in her cheeks.
Here's the first five of my YA, which is dystopian by some standards, but I'm reluctant to label it as such:
Life is so much easier without underwear. That was something I had clung to, but Sal was right when he told me underwear was useless. Sal taught me a lot of things. Like how to pee while holding a bow with an arrow nocked and drawn. In the Wild you have to know how to do that.
The last day of fifth grade should mark the beginning of a fun-filled summer for a girl. Not the end of life as I know it.
No one ever accused me of being psychic, but I could tell the worst was on its way. I knew it because today we got our final report cards.
“Happy last day of school, Jen!” Emily yelled.
Literary agent
Natalie Fischer, the judge for our current
Line-by-line Novel Opening Contest, has sent us her picks for the top 25 finalists. Unfortunately, that meant cutting another 25 entries that did not make it through to the next round. Overall, these are fantastic openings. To help make them even stronger, our panel of agented, published, and debut authors have offered to critique the first five sentences of these novels right here, so we
all can learn to strengthen our writing.
This is an amazing opportunity. These authors have all been through the querying process and won. They have been providing thoughtful, incredibly detailed critiques. We urge you to take advantage of this chance to develop your novel opening. (Marissa and I only wish
we could benefit from their expertise and patience!)
To enter the Critique Clinic with our fantastic panel of guest authors, if your entry appears below, please add your entry number and the full first five sentences of your novel in the comments of this post before 6:00 pm Monday, July 12, 2010.
Please Give a Warm Welcome to Our Participating Authors:- Barrie Summy writes a humorous tween/teen mystery series for Random House. Her books include I SO DON'T DO MYSTERIES, I SO DON'T DO SPOOKY, the just-released I SO DON'T DO MAKEUP and the upcoming I SO DON'T DO FAMOUS. She lives in San Diego with her husband, four chatty children, a dog named Dorothy, two veiled chameleons and 83 chameleon eggs. She is addicted to the internet and licorice.
- Riley Carney is seventeen years old and has written seven MG/YA novels. The first book of the five-book Reign of the Elements Series,The Fire Stone, was released January 2010, and the second book, The Water Stone, will be released August 2010. Riley is passionate about promoting global literacy through the nonprofit corporation that she founded because she believes that the way to help children break the cycle of poverty and exploitation is through literacy.
- Tracy Clark has completed two YA novels and is currently working on her third. She is represented by Michael Bourret of Dystel & Goderich Literary Management. She’s a wife, mother, lover of words, private pilot and irredeemable dreamer. Tracy was mentored by bestselling author, Ellen Hopkins, in the NV SCBWI Mentor Program.
- When Cole Gibsen isn't writing she can be found shaking her booty in a zumba class, picking off her nail polish, or drinking straight from the jug (when no one is looking). Cole's debut YA paranormal, Katana, is due out from Flux in spring, 2012.
- Tahereh a.k.a. T.H. Mafi works as a graphic designer. Her blog Grab a Pen consistently entertains the masses. She writes YA novels and is represented by the ever-fabulous Amy Tipton of Signature Literary Agency.
- Lisa Green
Aw! I saw all these entries with 0 comments and I had to add my feedback. The other critique clinics were very helpful to myself and others, so I hope more people will give positive strokes and positive comments to these recent entries!