tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7558127169041875452024-03-14T01:03:56.899-07:00VANDERVISIONIt's All About the AwesomeKimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.comBlogger145125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-27779590062951486022018-01-17T21:30:00.001-08:002018-01-17T21:35:03.309-08:00Bags of Rocks and Other Heavy Things<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i>This is a story I wrote for my oldest two daughters, who have different amounts of rocks in their bags right now, but the same amount of love . . . </i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Two sisters are walking up a hill. It’s not a terribly
steep hill, but one sister is having a harder time than the other. Both sisters
are carrying bags, and in each bag is a pile of rocks. The older sister has way
more rocks in her bag, so the younger sister climbs faster than she does.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This makes the older sister angry at the younger
sister. She feels like she is not as strong, and not as clever, and that
everyone is noticing how much further down the hill she is. But really,
considering how heavy the rocks in her bag are, she’s doing great! She’s super
strong, and super clever to have hauled so many rocks so far up that hill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sometimes, the older sister feels like her little
sister has no rocks in her bag at all, because of how easily she’s climbing the
hill. She even tries to think of ways to sneak some rocks into her sister’s bag
to slow her down, so she can feel better about herself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The little sister doesn’t have as many rocks in her
bag, but she definitely has some. One of those rocks is feeling like not having
as many rocks makes her less important. Another, is feeling invisible
sometimes, and not knowing how to use her voice to tell people what she thinks
about things. Another, is that her older sister is angry with her so much, and
she doesn’t know how to make it better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even though the sisters are carrying different rocks,
they’re walking up the same hill. One day, the older sister has an idea. One of
those lightbulb-blazing-in-the-sky-over-her-head kind of ideas. She calls to
her little sister,“Hey! Why don’t we walk together for awhile?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The little sister feels incredible when her older
sister suggests this. She doesn’t feel invisible anymore! One of the rocks in her
bag goes <b><i>POOF!</i></b> and her bag is suddenly so much lighter.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The older sister is amazed to see how much straighter
her little sister is standing now. She realizes that her sister <i>has </i>been carrying rocks after all, and
that showing love has helped one of them disappear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><i>POOF! </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One of the older sister’s rocks disappears!
She’s not angry at her little sister anymore. She’s not jealous anymore. And so
the older sister’s bag becomes so much lighter, and she jogs up the hill and
takes her little sister’s hand in hers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I thought you were climbing so fast because you
didn’t have any rocks in your bag,” the older sister says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I thought you were climbing so slow because you
didn’t want to hang out with your nearly-invisible little sister,” the little
sister says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“How about we climb together?” they say together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><i>POOF! POOF! POOF!</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They laugh as so many rocks disappear, and climb hand-in-hand,
their bags lighter than they can ever remember them being.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The
End</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-9364885647824211152017-04-07T11:14:00.002-07:002017-04-07T11:32:17.732-07:00The Agoraphobic's Closet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkiKO9pRB5xaFYBtKkDFD46VTmOQZ6poKcwDW4UfKkZ2v5UTD-BT3YM_PWxCPqVhF6tuM8astKwWAle9fX-3AtcAjNNF8r1ROrDIVyEP_6o3hF04jqXeN4zeeQNjgXtTkh7CW30ycG_p2/s1600/hangers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkiKO9pRB5xaFYBtKkDFD46VTmOQZ6poKcwDW4UfKkZ2v5UTD-BT3YM_PWxCPqVhF6tuM8astKwWAle9fX-3AtcAjNNF8r1ROrDIVyEP_6o3hF04jqXeN4zeeQNjgXtTkh7CW30ycG_p2/s320/hangers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The hangers in my closet are askew.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I haven't moved the empty ones from the back to the front of the line the way I like to. And there are several pointing upwards at jaunty angles, instead of hanging straight the way they should. Every day, they rattle-clank as I yank another garment free, sending them into new patterns of disarray.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And even though I am a person who yearns for symmetry, for straight, for tidy, for clear, for plain, I find the patterns beautiful. Sometimes, I stare for full minutes and smile because my closet is a mess.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Because I am wearing clothes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clothes that aren't the rumpled pajama pants and yawning tent t-shirts stuffed into my dresser drawers. Clothes that aren't my secret stay-at-home and nobody-sees clothes. I've been wearing outside clothes lately.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This is why my closet is beautiful.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Outside is a scary place for me. I am easily scared. My brain tells me lies, daily. Tells me that to be out of control is to be in danger. Tells me I am visible, vulnerable, victim. And it is never true. Never. I have never died from leaving the house. Never been so much as mildly maimed. Never been stood in front of a jeering crowd, openly mocked for all my shiny, glare-bright flaws. The spotlight is not a fan of me anymore than I'm a fan of it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But my closet tells the story of risks taken. Of clothing worn and imaginary dangers faced. Simple errands. A family dinner in a public place full of prying eyes. A trip to the movies with a loud, attention-drawing five-year-old in tow. Time in our backyard cleaning up mushy sidewalk chalk forgotten under the snow, scraps of broken toys, and snack wrappers as the neighbour--her yard pristine--watches.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have died a thousand make-believe deaths from potential humiliation, and only reality has the ability to steal the power from them. So my reality now has hangers, hanging jauntily askew, and puddles of dirty clothes on the bedroom floor that I'll pick up when I'm done being out out out and free free free.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I would write more, but I'm going out again today.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Whatever shall I wear . . .</span><br />
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<br />Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-47497367286841866982017-03-03T08:16:00.000-08:002017-03-03T08:16:09.281-08:00Finding the Words<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZKSMYnOs0L590cZSF3ysXlgbYSH_JMMAryy8OsGzFNjGwedaUhQURM-ZyoFvtQHUv5FSjaDl4EOWn6Ki6KNLDuTcM7TGE1gxMQqn1q3PeHyC4vkub5gCo9QopvJ0P0uLhdBGPsdK7JYg/s1600/Face+Yoga.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZKSMYnOs0L590cZSF3ysXlgbYSH_JMMAryy8OsGzFNjGwedaUhQURM-ZyoFvtQHUv5FSjaDl4EOWn6Ki6KNLDuTcM7TGE1gxMQqn1q3PeHyC4vkub5gCo9QopvJ0P0uLhdBGPsdK7JYg/s320/Face+Yoga.png" width="287" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I've been smiling a lot lately. We're talking Goofy Grin City, people. It's enough to make a curmudgeon sick.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I've also been panicking. Actively. And forgetting to breathe often enough there's this knot of pain dead-center in my chest. My current mantra?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"Positive stress is a real thing."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One of my (many) positive stresses is figuring out how to write my "How I Found My Agent" post (or, as you'll soon see, my "How My Agent Found Me" post). That's THIS post! You can skip to the end if you want--I won't be offended, because it's a looooong story. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I've been doing this querying thing since May of 2011. That's when I sent my first query (for a rather hilarious if poorly conceived MG superhero novel), having no clue that a spiffy query and funny opening chapters weren't enough. The rest of the book was a bit . . . </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//giphy.com/embed/ZbbNaFOMoFm1O" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/long-post-ZbbNaFOMoFm1O">via GIPHY</a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But we don't know what we don't know, and I <i>really</i> didn't know much back then.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After 20-something full requests and just as many rejections, I moved on to a new project--a YA portal fantasy with a love triangle in it (one of the <i>really</i> bad kinds). After some helpful feedback, I revised the love triangle outta there and developed the plot more, finding my voice along the way. Then I added high speed chases in hover cars and secret holding facilities in abandoned warehouses! I even blew something up! Oh man, did I have <i>fun</i>. But when you focus on your plot arc and ignore your character arc, things get . . . wonky. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But I didn't know what I didn't know, and the opening chapters were solid enough that I was chosen as a Pitch Wars mentee. My mentor (Hi, Lori!) taught me about emotional authenticity, organic narrative flow, and POV depth, and I revised and I revised, but I kept fiddling with the plot and mostly just the plot, and the story got better but not enough. Then I queried and received a boat load of full requests (over the course of querying this project, I received upwards of <i>40</i> in total).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="300" src="//giphy.com/embed/sRb7yNtTJAtZS" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/doctor-who-what-tenth-sRb7yNtTJAtZS">via GIPHY</a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But the agents who read the manuscript knew what I hadn't realized yet, that the story had a lot of unrealized potential that needed . . . realizing. I received my first R&R (revise and resubmit), but became severely ill shortly after (mono as an adult can be fatal--not for me, but oh, it <i>felt</i> like dying). The virus affected my ability to think (and write) clearly, and I botched the R&R (big time). The day that manuscript was rejected, I received another R&R! My brain was clearing and I thought, <i>I can do it this time. </i>I scrapped what wasn't working, churned out a whole pile of new words . . . and then my husband's step-mum died. And it was gutting. Grief is a word-thief, but I fought it off and eventually got back to work. J</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ust when I thought I was ALMOST done . . . </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">my dad died. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And then my husband's mom died. And then his step-dad committed suicide.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And I lost my words. I lost them in a way that would have terrified me if I hadn't been so numb. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But I'd signed up for an agent manuscript consult at a conference I attend every year (my fabulous critique partners talked me out of cancelling it), and I made it off the waiting list and into a room where I got to sit across from a lovely man named Josh Adams. He told me everything he loved about my first ten pages, gave me helpful notes and suggestions, and asked me to send him the full manuscript when revisions were complete.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Having an industry professional you respect love your opening pages can feel like a miracle, and for me, it was the silver lining on what had been a very dark cloud.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="263" src="//giphy.com/embed/yqtpq8rqqXBh6" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/reaction-moss-it-crowd-yqtpq8rqqXBh6">via GIPHY</a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I found my words at that conference. I found them in the agent's genuine praise. I found them in winning my category in the first chapter contest. I found them in the amazing classes and the fantastic friends I spent those days with. If you ever get the chance, the LDStorymakers Conference can be life-changing. Quite literally.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But shortly after all the life-changing epiphanies I had during that glorious weekend, my oldest daughter said she didn't want to be alive anymore. The words were back, but I couldn't reach for them. I had something more important to reach for. We got her the help and medicine she needed, and things are better but not perfect now, as life often is.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When I finally reached for them, the words came in trickles at first. Twitter writing prompts kept me going. I crafted sentence after sentence after sentence, and began to dream of paragraphs. Then I crafted paragraphs and dreamed of pages, till at last the words came all the way back, and I finally returned to my story, and to the character I left behind long before the illness and grief. In the quiet aftermath of personal crisis, I let it be her story in a way I never had before. I slowed it down. Let her character arc drive the plot instead of the other way around. I cut half the story out and wrote it from scratch. And rewrote. And ate pizza. And revised. And ate more pizza. And revised some more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/pizza-30-rock-phone-8KXo4UdLvHd7y">via GIPHY</a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It wasn't a masterpiece (still isn't--I realize now that I slowed it down TOO much), but the end result was beyond anything I'd accomplished before. Having given everything I knew how to give it, I sent the story off to the patient-beyond-patient agents who were still willing to look at it, including the agent whose encouraging critique helped unblock me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Offers came in, and I can't pretend I wasn't shocked (I rock at being humble). I advised agents who had materials and in the end, I received three offers of representation, three R&Rs, and several "I would offer an R&R if you didn't have offers of rep already." Like I said, I slowed the story down WAY too much. It needs work still, and some of the interested agents were willing to take a chance and work on those revisions with me as their client.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One of those offers came from an agent I hadn't queried or met or encountered in a pitch contest. Josh Adams, the agent I'd had the manuscript consult with, emailed one hazy Saturday morning to let me know he'd shared the manuscript with his colleague, Lorin Oberweger, who'd read it and wanted to talk to me about representation. I woke up REALLY fast that day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I researched Lorin and became increasingly excited. She's an editor, author, and agent all rolled into one. Her editing clients adore her. She's been doing the Breakout Novel Intensive for the past sixteen years. New agent? Yes. Inexperienced? Hell no. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We spoke on the phone, and it's clear that she not only loves the story for the same reasons I do, but she has awesome ideas for how to address the pacing issues. She wants to work together to take this story to a level I'm certain I can't reach on my own. And best of all? That knot of pain dead-center in my chest was gone within two minutes. I breathed easily (and consistently) through the entire phone call.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And I knew.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'm a big fan of knowing. I crave certainty. I crave understanding. So the notion of making such a crucial decision based on a feeling--even a knowing one--didn't sit well with me. I wrestled over which offer made the most sense to take, and there were merits to all three (and to the R&Rs for that matter). But while Lorin won me over on both an intellectual and emotional level, it was that feeling I kept coming back to. I have zero doubt that she is the agent I'm supposed to work with. </span><br />
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<a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/agent-carter-JNo79zb4WvFRu">via GIPHY</a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">While I would rather not have gone through the physical struggles and soul-sucking grief of the last couple years, I am so grateful that mine and Lorin's paths intersected the way they did. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There were so many dominoes that had to fall in just the right way for this to happen. And yes, I'm mixing my metaphors, but I always do that when I'm super excited. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am thrilled to announce that I am now represented by <a href="http://lorinoberweger.com/" target="_blank">Lorin Oberweger</a> of</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <a href="http://www.adamsliterary.com/" target="_blank">Adams Literary</a>!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It's too soon to write an acknowledgments page, but I want to thank so many people (if you're reading this post, odds are you're one of them), especially</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> the dear friends who've encouraged and supported me over the years, even way back in 2011 when my potential was something you needed a magnifying glass (or a profoundly kind heart) to see. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">You all helped me be better. I could revise this post for days and never find the right words to explain just how much. :)</span><br />
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<a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/IcGkqdUmYLFGE">via GIPHY</a>Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-60675499533080640292017-03-01T13:24:00.000-08:002017-03-06T12:24:20.925-08:00Retaining MS Word Formatting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1aI9WOE_a0ZsgGz9Nr6llIfRvQvQC-xSd81PQQMJKQ43075gFrV572w-mJ7jM7SMYYxNKGxj0gZGU4mqzcPuZRemAaqsC5SrFA6Oz6m1jXoI5-YklcZpD1hUm209a4WKtwsLns0whRLJz/s1600/copy+paste.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1aI9WOE_a0ZsgGz9Nr6llIfRvQvQC-xSd81PQQMJKQ43075gFrV572w-mJ7jM7SMYYxNKGxj0gZGU4mqzcPuZRemAaqsC5SrFA6Oz6m1jXoI5-YklcZpD1hUm209a4WKtwsLns0whRLJz/s320/copy+paste.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #555555; font-family: 'PT Serif Caption', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.8571px; margin-bottom: 11px;">
This is a very basic lesson, and a short one, but it BLEW MY MIND so I thought I would share.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #555555; font-family: 'PT Serif Caption', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.8571px; margin-bottom: 11px;">
If you've every copied text from MS Word and gone to paste it elsewhere (like Gmail for instance), you've probably experienced the soul-crushing, teeth-gnashing frustration of losing your formatting. I'm a fairly computer literate person, but I've spent years re-formatting emails, query letters, and writing samples, never knowing that THERE IS A SIMPLE SOLUTION:</div>
<ul style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #555555; font-family: 'PT Serif Caption', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.8571px; margin-bottom: 11px; margin-top: 0px;">
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Open the MS Word document you wish to copy and paste</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Click "Save As"</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Save the file as a "Web Page" into one of your documents folders</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Open the folder, and right click on the file</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Select "Open With"</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Open with Google Chrome (*Disclaimer: This may work with other browsers. I've only tried with Chrome)</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Copy and paste your selection</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Marvel over the sheer awesomeness of not having lost your formatting</li>
</ul>
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Do you need to have perfect formatting to be taken seriously? Will you be auto-rejected for wonky spacing or missing italics? Probably not. But it never hurts to take things up a notch. And as a frequent reader of contest slushpiles, the properly formatted entries are MUCH more enjoyable to read (and if I end up torn between two with equally good writing, I'll pick the properly formatted one every time). So give this technique a try if you're struggling the way I was. It's worth a few extra steps to show that you know your stuff. </div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-27111269897746645082017-02-27T10:39:00.001-08:002017-06-08T17:04:31.879-07:00Hard Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWcTXya29hR5UA32cb_bEXRIFI5Vfi0I4WcPygwE7-maBihCxMgDYAncj83TvlTbha-qhk7EuZRHtm266YHtWfu45ZJKLLmXbx0yvtwV_LPgTCWJodT54CJ1gihjcj7G1dcgpHYmmBYMq/s1600/Easy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="442" data-original-width="600" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWcTXya29hR5UA32cb_bEXRIFI5Vfi0I4WcPygwE7-maBihCxMgDYAncj83TvlTbha-qhk7EuZRHtm266YHtWfu45ZJKLLmXbx0yvtwV_LPgTCWJodT54CJ1gihjcj7G1dcgpHYmmBYMq/s320/Easy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have four kids, so I hear the words, "It's too hard" a lot. Often enough that there's this tiny little muscle under my left eye that goes <i>twoink </i>every time I do. Some days? That muscle does the cha-cha on my face.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">But as often as my kids say it, I say this in response:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">
"Just because it's hard doesn't mean you can't do it."</span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lately, I've been trying to take my own advice. One of the hardest things for me to do? LIVE. Like for real, step outside my own head, do things in the physical world kind of living. The inside of my head? It's not exactly a nice place to live. It's noisy, and the decor is ALL OVER THE PLACE, and whenever something lovely happens, my anxiety shouts it down like a grumpy old man yelling at kids to get off his lawn.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I want out. But even though I built my own mental prison, finding the escape hatch is no easy thing.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Reasons my brain has decided I deserve to be trapped:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I wear pajamas too much.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'd rather order pizza every day than cook.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I rock at loving people but I suck at doing anything about it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'm human instead of perfect.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My house is messy.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I lose my temper too much.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Etc . . .</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Not exactly crimes against humanity, are they? Do any of you do this too? Deny yourself happiness for tiny offenses like these? Do you have a list of "Ways I'm Not Measuring Up to Who I <i>Could </i>Be?" Are you punishing yourself for being a Work in Progress?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a great deal of thought, here's why I think I deserve to be happy (and this totally applies to you too):</span></span><br />
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<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'm a person.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And . . . that's it really. That's enough. I've never met a single person I would stamp with a "Doesn't Deserve A Single Iota of Happiness" stamp. I mean, I've led a pretty sheltered life, admittedly. I've never met a mass murderer, for instance (not that I know of, anyway). But I've decided that my list of "crimes" is pretty damn minor, and that since I'm okay with YOU being a Work in Progress, I should be okay with being one too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So I'm making a new list. A "How to Be Happy" list, and I'm telling myself I deserve to step outside that noisy brain of mine and actively engage in my own life. My anxiety is a part of me. Always has been, and probably always will be. But I don't have to let it be my gatekeeper. I'm going to go play the piano now. Something that makes me happy, and that I haven't done in weeks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">What's keeping you from your happy?</span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-34720684298588436072017-02-21T14:18:00.000-08:002017-04-07T13:21:01.694-07:00The Last Straw<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'm picturing people as camels today (not literally, metaphorically--literally would be weird). I'm picturing them with huge bundles of straw bending them low to ground. I'm picturing them as being on the cusp of giving up, of being d-o-n-e DONE if one more hard thing weighs them down. One more straw.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Problem is, in real life those bundles of straw are invisible. I can't tell at a glance who's carrying around a handful of straws all easy-breezy like, or who's laboring under a metric tonne of them. I've always said that if I could have a superpower I would choose the ability to fly. I love the swoopy-tummy feeling of take off. I love the sensation of soaring (bugs in teeth...not so much, but every power comes with a price). But lately I'm thinking I would choose super-ultra-deep-people-vision. Meaning, the ability to see those metaphorical bundles of straw and know EXACTLY what's in them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Because then I wouldn't catch myself making such stupid assumptions about people. I would know when to tread lightly. I would know what to say or what not to say. I would never be a straw added to someone else's burden. And best of all, I would never be someone's LAST straw ever again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But we can't see, and we can't know. So sometimes thoughtlessly, and sometimes inevitably, we say the words or do the things that bend someone to the point of breaking. And it can be baffling, absolutely baffling, because sometimes they are such small words and such small actions, and we can't understand why the person in front of us is suddenly shouting or weeping or heart-rendingly silent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Life can be a heavy, heavy thing. It can also be light and joyful and full of tummy-swooping moments and straw scattered to the wind. I haven't quite figured out how to have more of the latter than the former, but I think it has a lot to do with super-ultra-deep-people-vision.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But until we develop that particular superpower, it helps to remember that you don't have to see a burden to help lift it.</span><br />
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Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-91963965154796006342017-02-13T22:10:00.002-08:002017-06-08T17:05:48.221-07:00Random Poeticals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-30999347776697296462017-02-10T12:27:00.000-08:002017-06-08T17:11:50.678-07:00Critiquing 101: Building Critique Partnerships that Last<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A while back, someone asked me the following question:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"Do you think I'm ready for a critique partner?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The answer is yes. The answer to that question is ALWAYS yes. And I've put together a <a href="https://prezi.com/nvuo1-ccarmc/critiquing-101/?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=landing_share" target="_blank">PRESENTATION</a> on Critiquing and Critique Partnerships to shed further light on what makes for an awesome critique partnership.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Whether you've just finished your first book during NaNoWriMo, or completed intense revisions on your eighteenth novel, there is never a time in your progression as a writer when an outside opinion doesn't have the potential to be life-changing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">That's not to say that every outside opinion WILL be. I once had someone do a line-by-line edit of my full manuscript in which they questioned every single simile. "You say she's like a duck here, but she's not REALLY a duck, so I found this confusing."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yeah. That happened.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Trading material with potential critique partners is a lot like trying on shoes. Just because the info on the box looks good, doesn't mean the shoe inside is going to fit you perfectly. BUT, just because one pair doesn't fit, doesn't mean something super shiny and lovely isn't waiting in the next box.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="356" src="//giphy.com/embed/YtSvlXwlmcBPO" width="480"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">You can't really KNOW if a critique partnership will work until you try it on. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As to the question that prompted this post . . . PLEASE. Please don't believe that nasty little voice in your head telling you that you don't deserve shoes. That voice is a moron. EVERYONE deserves shoes. And finding the right ones can take you and your story amazing places.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If you're like me, one of your very favorite parts of working with a critique partner will be those moments when you realize YOU are another writer's favorite pair of shoes. It's true. That happens. YOU can be the one who's comfortable and supportive enough to help someone keep going, no matter how rough the road gets.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Give some thought to what you're looking for in a critique partner, and what kind of critique partner you'd like to be in return. And if you have the time, take a peek at my <a href="https://prezi.com/nvuo1-ccarmc/critiquing-101/?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=landing_share" target="_blank">PRESENTATION</a>. It might help you with your "shoe shopping."</span>Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-77128163618185417832016-12-08T09:26:00.000-08:002017-06-08T17:07:11.508-07:00Worth the Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-23585365658000222042016-11-16T10:57:00.000-08:002017-06-08T17:09:21.880-07:00Like Rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Inspiration falls like rain, and sometimes I am made of umbrellas. The umbrella of sleep, the umbrella of Netflix, the umbrella of noisy thoughts. But sometimes I stretch myself out on the metaphorical grass and let it fall, let it soak into me bone-deep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This is when the words come.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And they don't always make sense. And I don't always know where they go or who's meant to say them, think them, and feel them. Sometimes they're for stories that haven't been born yet, or for stories I thought had gone to sleep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Something raindrops and inspiration showers have in common is that there's no earthly way to catch them all. The ground is hungry and devours words and stories that could have been mine if only I'd had enough room, enough cleverness, enough sense to WRITE THINGS DOWN.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My life is a graveyard of lost ideas, but fertile ground for the found ones.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'm feeling grateful for inspiration today. For words that I get to call mine just because I'm the one who managed to catch them. And I'm grateful for nudges from metaphorical elbows, for gentle proddings in right and happy-making directions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">What words are you grateful for today?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-37601114160186101032016-10-27T12:46:00.000-07:002019-09-24T16:40:24.728-07:00On Why Being a Jerk is Stupid<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Dominoes are awesome. I especially love the go-on-for-ages ones. There's something so satisfying about seeing one push, one flick, culminate in such a beautiful catastrophe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The publishing industry is full of domino moments, and most of the time we have no way of seeing them coming. I've seen some beautiful crashes in my years in this community. I've seen a friend tweet a line from a book, seen another author say, "I WANT TO READ THIS!", then heard news of that same author recommending the book to their agent (an offer of rep and book deals followed soon after).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I've seen the same thing happen in contests I've participated in and contests I've hosted. I've seen those pivotal moments where ONE THING changed the course of an author's career for the better. It's mesmerizing, and it's thrilling. Partly because knowing those moments happen means knowing they could happen for YOU, and mostly because authors work so damn hard with so little recognition for so very long, and it's wonderful to witness the payoff. We celebrate every happy happenstance we hear of because we KNOW how well-deserved they all are.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Or we should anyway. I've met a few authors who grumble because it hasn't happened for THEM yet. Because that first domino hasn't fallen and damn it, why not? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There's no good answer to that question, and no good comes of asking it. But it's human to go there in your head. And it's human to vent to dear friends sometimes and say stuff like, "THIS IS TAKING SO LONG IT IS SO FRUSTRATING AND GAH WHY AM I EVEN TRYING ANYMORE I SUCK RIGHT? I MUST TOTALLY SUCK OR MAYBE THE INDUSTRY SUCKS OR MAYBE MY GUARDIAN ANGEL FELL IN LOVE WITH A HUMAN AND ISN'T WATCHING OUT FOR ME ANYMORE AND YOU SHOULD PROBABLY FEED ME CHOCOLATE NOW BEFORE I IMPLODE THANK YOU!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Venting is good. Chocolate is good. Not imploding is good.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">What's not good, is saying that stuff publicly. I don't mean the fabulous, raw, authentic posts some authors write about how the industry is hard and you're not alone, etc. I love those posts. They are validating, bolstering, and comforting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'm talking about honest-to-goodness GRIPING. The kind of thing that sets off an entirely different kind of domino chain. The kind that culminates in a "bad reputation." I mean, we're a community of storytellers. Storytelling is what we DO. Of course word is going to get around. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If you cheat in an online writing contest (yep, this happens), the contest hosts WILL tell other contest hosts (most of us know each other--true story). If you complain bitterly when you're not chosen as a finalist and throw an online tantrum of some sort or another? We're going to raise our eyebrows and quite probably remember your name the next time you enter. If you trade critiques with someone, receive their notes, and never critique theirs in return? You lose a potential ally in the industry (umm, come to think of it, I owe critiques to a couple people--I should get on that).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I wish I were pulling those vague examples out of the air, but I'm not. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I don't think I'm much of a domino. I'm not published (yet). But I still matter. So if you call my dear friend the b-word, I'm not going to choose you for my Pitch Slam team no matter how brilliant your writing is. And if you cheat in a contest I host, I'm going to warn people I know in the industry that they probably don't want to be associated with you. If you have a history of publicly complaining about agents and editors, I won't take you on as an editing client (I'll be polite about it, I'm Canadian after all, but I totally won't). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Will those consequences make or break you as an author? Probably not. But then again, we can't see those domino moments coming, can we? Maybe I'm a domino in your life. Maybe one of the people you meet through an online contest is. Maybe that writer you're thinking about saying something snarky to on twitter will become an acquisitions editor some day and hold your fate in their hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There are a hell of a lot of maybes in this industry, and in life in general. But DEFINITELY give some thought to being the kind of person who, when they accidentally knock over one of those metaphorical dominoes gets to shout, "YES!" at the end instead of whimpering in horror at the havoc they wreaked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We can't control trends. We can't control subjective reactions to our stories. But we CAN control our words and how we use them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Use yours well. </span>Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-88735026462374180782016-10-06T14:06:00.000-07:002017-04-07T13:33:52.088-07:00Tangled<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<blockquote>
People are tangles; thousands of woven, knotted strands. How ridiculous to pick one frayed end and say, "THIS is the whole of what you are."</blockquote>
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I'm extra frayed lately. And I feel like that's all people can see. The worn out bits on the surface. The dark circles. The weight. The deer-in-headlight moments when my mind spins out of control because I can't remember how to "people" anymore. <br />
<br />
But I'm more than my the sum of my weaknesses.<br />
<br />
There are strands of me that are hilarious, compassionate, fierce, loyal. I have knots of generosity tied tight around my heart, and snarls of ambition and passion looped around my mind. Some of my strings are on fire. I can be brilliant, bright, incandescent.<br />
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But the tangled pieces closest to the surface tell a different and far more visible story. There are shredded strands of poor health, and poor choices, and not-holding-it-together-not-even-a-little-bit. The "I miss my dad" string is particularly glaring, and tells a "Not doing so great" story I would really love to rewrite.<br />
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And all these surface strands have voices. Loud ones. They shout, "This is a weak woman. She could be so much more. She could do so much more."<br />
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And they're not wrong.<br />
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I am weak. I am faltering, failing, crashing, flailing.<br />
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But just because that's the loudest story in my life, doesn't mean it's the truest one. Doesn't mean it's the most important one. Because I'm also strong. I love so fiercely it hurts. I am sometimes witty, sometimes wise. I am sometimes so many amazing things.<br />
<br />
I'm tangled. I think we all are. We are too many things to call ourselves only one.<br />
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I am grieving and thriving, faltering and finding my feet, failing and progressing, falling and being caught. All at the same time. Which is why the question, "How are you?" is so damnably hard to answer properly.<br />
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There are far too many possible answers.Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-79085377962395864682016-09-21T05:02:00.000-07:002016-09-23T11:11:30.077-07:00Team Obi-Wan and the Wookies: Finalists<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Like the Force, writing is both mysterious and powerful. There are some things we can make sense of, rules we can figure out and follow, but in the end it comes down to instinct, ability, and bloody hard work. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">The authors our team has chosen to showcase are indeed strong in the ways of the Force, and they've worked hard to make their Pitch Slam entries as radiant and effective as a light-saber (okay, maybe I'm stretching a little too hard analogy-wise here, but come on, this is fun, isn't it?).</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">And because you would MUCH rather read these fabulous entries than my simile-ridden prose, here (in no particular order) are Team Obi-Wan and the Wookies' Finalists: </span></span><br />
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<li><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/mg-thriller-my-paper-route-and-other.html" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>MG Thriller: My Paper Route and Other Deadly Things</b></span></a></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/mg-fantasy-broken-boy-his-patchwork.html" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">MG Fantasy: The Broken Boy & His Patchw</a><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/mg-fantasy-broken-boy-his-patchwork.html" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">ork Heart</a></b></span></li>
<li><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/adult-horror-scrapetown.html"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>Adult Horror: Scrapetown</b></span></a></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/adult-sci-fi-saints-scales.html">Adult Sci-Fi: Saints' Scales</a></b></span></li>
<li><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/ya-magical-realism-dear-dead-drunk-girl.html"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>YA Magical Realism: Dear Dead Drunk Girl</b></span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/ya-contemporary-fantasy-in-lyres-and.html"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>YA Contemporary Fantasy: In Lyres and Lies</b></span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/ya-fantasy-her-crooked-shadow.html"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>YA Fantasy: Her Crooked Shadow</b></span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/ya-fantasy-fall-of-troy.html"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>YA Fantasy: The Fall of Troy</b></span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/ya-contemporary-water-down-my-walls.html"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>YA Contemporary: Water Down My Walls</b></span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.com/2016/09/ya-sci-fi-seen.html"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>YA Sci-fi: Seen</b></span></a></li>
</ul>
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<b style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 25.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Our fan</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">tabulous Jedi Council will be making requests using the following system:</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b><span lang="EN-US">These are the pages I'm looking for:</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> Query and first 15 pages</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /><b>You have the reflexes of a Jedi:</b> Query and first 50 pages<br /><b>Disciplined, you are:</b> Query and first 100 pages<br /><b>The Force is strong with this one:</b> Query and full</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">Don't forget to check out the other teams' finalists:</span></h2>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://llmckinney.com/blog/" target="_blank">Team Take a Seat</a><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://thiswritersworldplotbunnies.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Team Jedi Princess</a><span class="MsoHyperlink"><u><o:p></o:p></u></span></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://blog.lauraheffernan.com/" target="_blank">Team Rey Gun</a><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://pitchslamcontest.com/" target="_blank">Team Bounty Hunter</a></b></span></span></div>
<br />Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-14945435525195348832016-09-21T05:01:00.000-07:002016-09-23T11:11:45.727-07:00Adult Horror: Scrapetown<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<span style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">35 Word Pitch:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><b> </b>When a friend's evisceration reeks of necromancy and Clare was the intended target, she and a reckless bayou warlock set out to trap and destroy the elusive killer who shares her power over ghosts.</span></span></span><br />
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<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Genre:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> Adult Horror</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Title:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Scrapetown</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Word Count:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> 90,000</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Special Question:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Clare would be
a bass player in a Mos Eisley Cantina band. She'd appreciate the ability to
find work anywhere and travel more or less unnoticed, and would love to have a
crucial and well-defined role in a tightly knit group of people without being
the center of attention. The lack of pressure to save anyone but herself
wouldn't hurt.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></b><br />
<a name='more'></a><b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">First 250 Words:</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Charlottesville, Virginia</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Tuesday, September 6</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The barn smelled dead.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Not fresh dead, not rotting, but <i>still</i>.
Dry. Mummified. Something had dug through the old wood, opening one corner of
the floor to outside weeds. Might there be fox corpses in the hay, desiccated
lumps buried years ago? That was nightmare-talk, just her brain misfiring, but
the image clung to Clare like oil.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">She dragged one hand along a pine wall,
swish-scratch. A physical distraction from the idea that if she wanted, she
could curl up beside those improbable foxes. Plenty of room for girls down
there. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Clare paused in a narrow slice of sunshine
that leaked from two windows, punched-out teeth struggling to light up the main
room. Used to be hay bales in here.<i> </i>Storage, so local farmers
wouldn’t have to rent flatbeds for transport. But now developers with big ideas
and low momentum were snatching up Blue Ridge land and it showed in the
decaying piles of hay covering the floor… along with those heaps of muck that were <i>not</i> and
had never <i>been</i> alive. Maybe.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Enough, idiot. Find your damn leverage
and get out.</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">She advanced through a tight hallway to
the office nestled in the building’s heart. No windows here. Clare stepped over
its kicked-in door, pulled out her burner phone, thumbed the flashlight on. The
beam caught clouds of dust and she sneezed into her forearm, almost dropped the
phone. <i>Amateur.</i></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Clare shone her light
around the room, hunting for paper. </span></div>
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Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-49271192559231496972016-09-21T05:00:00.002-07:002016-09-23T11:12:39.327-07:00Adult Sci-fi: Saints' Scales<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0cm;">
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<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">35 Word Pitch: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">After the Church burns Quil’s home, he abandons the ashes in search of justice. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">Now, Librarian-Priests hunt him through paper-deserts for a stolen secret. Unless he survives, </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">the chthonic Archives and its machine-gods will die.</span><br />
<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Genre: </span></b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">Adult Sci-fi</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Title: </span></b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">SAINTS' Scales</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Word Count: </span></b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">108,000</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Special Question: If your main character could be any Star Wars
character, who would they choose and why? </span></b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Jocasta Nu. Quil's mentor was also a bad-ass Librarian. He could think of worse
things than ending up like her.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">First 250
words: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">Quil lifted loose pages to his nose and breathed in the scent of the
wide, rolling Sheets. It was dust and rot and nothing else for long miles,
nothing but paper below his feet and stone high above his head.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0cm 8pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">He placed the leaves
back, noting where they had rested, and shifted on his haunches as he
considered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0cm 8pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The paper in this
tract of the vast, empty Sheets was old, laid by a little saint decades ago and
not yet revisited. A narrow line of disturbed leaves marred that wider flow of
text. It looked like a trail made by the feet of another human, but he couldn’t
imagine why a man or woman might have been here alone. It would be a hard
thing, trying to survive in this gloom without the safety of the nomadic little
saints and the towns upon their backs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0cm 8pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Where are you
going?” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0cm 8pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">He ran a hand through his tangle of ruddy-black hair. To follow further
or not? He had traced this path for the last twenty minutes. It meandered with
the curve of the dunes, heading toward the distant Hub, the centre of the
Archives. He’d seen no one from Wilde pass this way, and he hadn’t expected to;
he was one of its furthest ranging inhabitants. Was the trail old then, or
could someone be wandering lost even now, stumbling until they dropped to the
paper?</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">He had the time.</span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-7917181704981992042016-09-21T05:00:00.001-07:002016-09-22T10:56:08.262-07:00MG Fantasy: The Broken Boy & His Patchwork Heart<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 15.0pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVYyt49ggOL1ulRgB6xKnT8SHuvbl2jU6nwtK0aBNSLSg746KPl9dgWDNLtXxhgBrQHgx02z5f30NGnXRqmHBu96tLD4szjiCfUBeYFDldVBWC2q1MLSZSNSepdTDFowBjiBWXD38fwU5/s1600/star+wars3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVYyt49ggOL1ulRgB6xKnT8SHuvbl2jU6nwtK0aBNSLSg746KPl9dgWDNLtXxhgBrQHgx02z5f30NGnXRqmHBu96tLD4szjiCfUBeYFDldVBWC2q1MLSZSNSepdTDFowBjiBWXD38fwU5/s320/star+wars3.jpg" width="230" /></a></div>
<span style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">35 <span style="font-weight: normal;">Word Pitch:</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> When Oak befriends a kitten and the teal-haired girl, his shattered heart begins mending. But the alchemist who covets misery senses opportunity. If Oak can't trick him, the alchemist will claim his friends too. </span></span></span><br />
<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Genre: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">MG Fantasy</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Title: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">THE BROKEN BOY & HIS PATCHWORK HEART<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Word Count: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">62,000<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Special Question: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Yoda. No doubt about it, seeing as Oak
prefers to keep to tradition and would rather be the one to <i>know</i> the
secrets, not the poor soul trying to figure them out. Also, at first glance,
Yoda's terribly underestimated. Oak would like to think he's the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></b><br />
<a name='more'></a><b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">First 250 Words: </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Oak’s little sister</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">rubbed the top of his
fingernail with the pad of her thumb. It had become ritual. She claimed it was
her security blanket, her ‘wooby.' Secretly, it had become his too. It was long
past lights out, especially for a school night, but Oak didn’t say a word.
Instead, he waited for her to spit out the question she’d been working over.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Staring starry-eyed
up into the sheet-tent she'd slept in since they’d moved to Aunt June’s
house last month, Daisy asked, “What’s that lady called?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Oak
snorted. “Which one?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“The one who rides
the elephant . . .” She scrunched her nose so several V’s crinkled across the
bridge. “You know! The one who’s all sparkly and turns cartwheels with a
feather in her hair?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Oh, right . . .” He had
no flippin’ idea. “The elephant rider.” He stole a peek across the
small space to see if she’d bought it. He needed her to buy it, so he could
keep on buying it too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Daisy narrowed her
eyes until her smile reached right up into them. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Elephant rider. That’s what Momma’s doin’ right now.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Their mom had
been all forms of entertainers as of late: trapeze artist, horse acrobat,
tightrope walker. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">Taking in the image,
soft silence spread between them, spilling into this new life as they tried to
rewrite their old one.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Hey, Oak?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">He’d
known the quiet wouldn’t last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Yeah, Weed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“What d’ya think Daddy’s
up to tonight?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Hmm . . .” Now <i>that</i> was
always the big question.</span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-66943388387467451202016-09-21T04:59:00.005-07:002016-09-23T11:36:48.899-07:00YA Sci-fi: Seen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGg-0mKeogf2kaoyZNLM9sKDYHqOHMfrlLUmQMc7vO7jkrYXwzb_tMbS3ot6XFzvVjsO9lMPMp0oEKAOaCX3SKqgucsWphpVPRMnq5mtT6m8u6rhmZ5urhLlmPHDZib9-BXEQJjZdvES_v/s1600/droids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGg-0mKeogf2kaoyZNLM9sKDYHqOHMfrlLUmQMc7vO7jkrYXwzb_tMbS3ot6XFzvVjsO9lMPMp0oEKAOaCX3SKqgucsWphpVPRMnq5mtT6m8u6rhmZ5urhLlmPHDZib9-BXEQJjZdvES_v/s320/droids.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">35 Word Pitch: </span></b><span style="color: #494949; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Third-generation Watched, seventeen-year-old Orley Aragón’s entire life is filmed for the Nation. After her ratings drop and her best friend disappears, she risks newfound love and the only world she knows to escape the Network.</span></div>
<strong style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="color: #494949;">Genre: </span></strong><strong style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="color: #494949; font-weight: normal;">YA Sci-fi</span></strong></div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0in 0in 7.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><strong><span style="color: #494949;">Title: </span></strong><span style="color: #494949;">SEEN</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0in 0in 7.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><strong><span style="color: #494949;">Word Count: </span></strong><span style="color: #494949;">102,000</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; margin: 0in 0in 7.5pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Special Question: If your main character could be any Star War character, who would they choose and why?</span></b></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Orley would choose to be Princess Leia Oragna, because she identifies with her life. Like Princess Leia, whose adopted father tries to prepare her for her eventual duties as Queen, Orley’s father constantly reminds her of her responsibilities to the Network. Orley is also frustrated with her mother grooming her to be the next big star on the Watched, just as Princess Leia is annoyed with her aunts who lecture her on her etiquette, appearance, and company. Ultimately, both Orley and Princess Leia refuse to accept the superficial expectations of their roles, instead focusing on finding the truth in their worlds and fighting for what’s right.</span><b><span style="color: #494949; font-size: 12pt;"></span></b></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><strong style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #494949;">First 250 Words:</span></strong><br />
<strong style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #494949;"><br /></span></strong></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">My knuckles sting with each urgent knock, the glass door vibrating against my skin.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">No one answers.</span></span></i></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The glass is dark, almost opaque, but I still press my face against it, trying to see inside. There’s a shadow of light coming from one of the rooms, but I can’t see anything else.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I walk back to the cobblestone street in front of Darby’s house. The angled metal makes her home look like a fortress, the artificial sun creating a blinding glare as it hits the siding. I’m forced to shield my eyes so I can continue to watch the doorway.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Where is she?</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The sun inches higher up the side of the dome. Its golden rays pierce into the electric blue sky before extending around the city. The lighting brightens ever so slightly around us, casting everyone in a warm glow. The change goes unnoticed by the many Cast Members exiting their homes or walking along the cobblestone streets, lost in their conversations. A few bodies dressed in black move through the streets, careful to keep their distance.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I shouldn’t be here</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: none; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<div style="font-size: 11pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">A few people nod as they walk by. Radiant smiles blanket their faces. Their clothing is perfectly coordinated to enhance their eyes or hair or whatever someone told them was their best feature. I muster a smile and continue my pacing. With each step, countless microphones awaken. A woman raises an eyebrow in question as she passes, but I offer a simple “hello” and whatever concern she had dissolves into an agreeable grin.</span></span></div>
<ul style="font-size: 11pt;">
</ul>
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Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-1077845056746061392016-09-21T04:59:00.004-07:002016-09-22T10:56:52.145-07:00YA Fantasy: Her Crooked Shadow<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJamK9_Fy0KI9Ff_-TKLLpaqjxXUcCSszFi2AeTXq9QVXPeoZ9-6WnfyPCOfCVosM2h3JMdr-EXO0C3eY4InlWxIH9f-3kefwjCtufsqAFX9Q-bSjO_8myRSlcWVxIgkmdBM0izeYTqPU/s1600/star+wars4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJamK9_Fy0KI9Ff_-TKLLpaqjxXUcCSszFi2AeTXq9QVXPeoZ9-6WnfyPCOfCVosM2h3JMdr-EXO0C3eY4InlWxIH9f-3kefwjCtufsqAFX9Q-bSjO_8myRSlcWVxIgkmdBM0izeYTqPU/s320/star+wars4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><b style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;">35 Word Pitch:</b><span style="text-indent: 0cm;"><b> </b>If seventeen-year-old wizard Inani wants to save her only friend from child-sacrifice by her Order, she’ll have to join a pack of murder-happy conspiracy idiots and overthrow her former family. Legend of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="text-indent: 0cm;">Korra</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="text-indent: 0cm;"> meets<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="text-indent: 0cm;">Deadpool.</span></span></span><br />
<b style="color: #222222; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="color: #222222; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Genre:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> YA Fantasy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
<br />
<b>Title:</b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"> Her Crooked
Shadow</span><br />
<br />
<b>Word Count:</b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"> 93,000</span><br />
<br /><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><b>If your main character could be any Star Wars character, who would they choose
and why?:</b> It's a toss-up between Mara Jade and Han Solo (</span>badasses<span class="apple-converted-space"> with shady pasts, now doing whatever
they want), but Han's best friend can/does rip peoples' arms off, so Han wins.</span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;">First 250:</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">I owed a twerp an ass-kicking.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">The smooth stone warmed my belly as I inched to
the edge of the roof. Through the narrow window just below, I spotted my
target. The twerp had holed up with two cronies in one of the empty classrooms,
the benches stacked against the wall, the floor swept clear. All but for the
tiny girl huddled on her knees. Even from up there, with the Sky Father’s dusty
wind tugging my long, black hair over my face, the reek of turkey shit scorched
my nose.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">“Come on, freak,” said the leader, some snot-nosed
idiot, maybe thirteen years old. I should’ve known his name, but like the rest
of the citadel scrubs—which was what everyone called the initiates—his head was
shaved, and I couldn’t tell them apart. “Where’s that big mouth now, huh? I
thought you were<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>tough</i>.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">The girl’s name I did know: Klawi, my only friend.
She said nothing; kept her head down, her face hidden. She wouldn’t give them
anything.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">One of the cronies wrinkled his nose. “Gods
beyond, she stinks.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">And that had everything to do with the
shit-smeared basket he held. He must have taken it from the rooftop gardens,
where we kept the stuff as fertilizer.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">“Not so special now, are you?” Snot Nose said.
“You’re just a worthless, little nothing without that psycho to back you up.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Me, he meant; he would never say my name out loud.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<i>Whisper “Inani” and she’ll appear</i></span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">, they giggled behind my back.</span></span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-45920707569493912872016-09-21T04:59:00.003-07:002016-09-22T10:55:33.330-07:00YA Contemporary: Water Down My Walls<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xKWLUUUPcJkJ3shUmgz1-vQpS3bPcC_e7sWyEI1-Lkg0bkUhvdZKJDrdFzEWnCa7WJoeALuOgq_bKhYPGYutGjgW7SSx1cjhYoBWW_yaAgnkgmhcnsd1bf_6kpt1dzhiXBo9iG1gjxsn/s1600/star+wars2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xKWLUUUPcJkJ3shUmgz1-vQpS3bPcC_e7sWyEI1-Lkg0bkUhvdZKJDrdFzEWnCa7WJoeALuOgq_bKhYPGYutGjgW7SSx1cjhYoBWW_yaAgnkgmhcnsd1bf_6kpt1dzhiXBo9iG1gjxsn/s320/star+wars2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><b style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">35 Word Pitch:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><b> </b>British teen is thrown into rocky waters when she</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">’</span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">s sent to a small Florida town to recharge. Without her mum or bestfriend, she must navigate through her anxiety and depression before she sinks for good.</span></span></span><br />
<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Genre:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> YA Contemporary</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">
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<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Title: </span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Water Down My Walls<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Word Count: </span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">76,000<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Special Question
(If your main character could be any Star Wars character, who would they choose
and why?): </span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">My MC would choose to be Rey. Five words — <i>she</i> pilots the
Millennium Falcon. She</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">’</span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">s determined, self-sufficient, and more courageous than brave. That
said, even though my MC would choose Rey, she would connect most with Finn.
Whether it</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">’</span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">s the First Order, depression or anxiety, Finn and my MC are pulled into
an adventure without their consent. Their resulting mission might not be as
explosive as blowing up a Death Star, but their mission is to survive and look
out for those they care about.<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--></span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">First 250 Words:</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I save Cooper for last.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Shivering, I trudge
into his oil-stained garage and wring my hair. He’s right in front of me. His
skinny self is hunched over the engine of his car, wearing only jeans and
sandals. The biggest fool in Manchester, my partner-in-crime, my only real
friend, even has a cig hanging from his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I tighten my jacket
around me and clear my throat. Cooper looks up.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Hey, you,” he
mumbles around the cig and the dark hair falling into his face. When I don’t
move or speak, he pulls his hands away from the car. “Don’t tell me it’s time
already.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I shrug and scuff the
toe of my combat boot against a tire mark. “Coop.” I had a speech prepared, but
now . . . I stare at his black smudged hands and dangling Marlboro.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Beats of silence pass
between us. A drop runs down my forehead. Rain, or sweat?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Listen.” My eyes
lock onto his green ones. “I suck at this sort of thing, so let’s just make
believe I’m saying something smashing and heartfelt, so we can move on with our
lives.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">He snorts. “You’ve
always had a wicked way with words.” His sandals slap against the floor as he
strolls over to the table next to me, squishes the cig down in the ashtray, and
tugs out a rag to wipe his hands. “I reckon this is when I get to hug my best
friend and tell her to keep in touch . . . ?”</span></span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-8970332044305719272016-09-21T04:59:00.000-07:002016-09-21T14:55:16.722-07:00YA Magical Realism: Dear Dead Drunk Girl<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRDLi8Tr1DpPgfX7F2dl_Y23oxhAuDcliCP1WDCc7nARlSZyH3AbYDelu9F4JeFwJr1o0TfNJK7geQ4Zd7OoyzTcPiDaGVG1Hg1pN8F6QkzifHcrfkuOajToVwfDulYHCKVX3xPALhoFqc/s1600/star+wars7.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRDLi8Tr1DpPgfX7F2dl_Y23oxhAuDcliCP1WDCc7nARlSZyH3AbYDelu9F4JeFwJr1o0TfNJK7geQ4Zd7OoyzTcPiDaGVG1Hg1pN8F6QkzifHcrfkuOajToVwfDulYHCKVX3xPALhoFqc/s320/star+wars7.png" width="253" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><b style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">35 Word Pitch:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><b> </b>Heaven is a dive bar where eighteen-year-old alcoholic, Mary, uses letters to speak to the living, atone for her sins, and hopefully save her sister from a stalker.</span></span></span><br />
<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Genre: </span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">YA Magical Realism</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Title: </span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">DEAR DEAD DRUNK
GIRL<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Word Count: </span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">64,000<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Special
Question: </span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">If my MC Mary could be any Star Wars character she would be Lando
Calrissian. Both Lando and Mary understand the devastating guilt one mistake
carries. And both characters struggle to redeem themselves as they strive
to make things better for the ones they love.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">First 250 Words:</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">My heaven is a dive bar. And I’m the
only patron. I’m not lonely. Robert, my bartender, is good company and provides
me with an endless supply of vodka tonics.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I decorated the inside of my bar top
to bottom with rainbows, smiling faces and stick figure sisters holding hands.
I drew them from memory. They’re exact replicas of my little sister, Anjuli’s,
drawings. But lately I notice something is wrong with the paper. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">“You okay, Mary?” Robert asks. “You
don’t look good.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I point at a drawing. “I wish I could
crawl inside a picture. Be back then. Be a sister, again.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tears threaten
to escape so I focus my eyes between the amber bourbon bottles. When I stare in
that exact spot the mirror reflects gold onto Anjuli’s rainbow painting and
makes the sun glow. It reminds me of the way sunshine smelled on her skin.
Wait, there’s a hole in the picture where the sun used to be. It looks like a
cigarette burn.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">That can’t be
good.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Robert, why
don’t you pour me something new?” That ought to make him happy. One of us
should be. He’s a good guy. Sometimes he’s two.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">He smiles a
hopeful smile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anjuli has a
chocolate chip freckle on her lip. It moved when I made her laugh. Who makes
her smile now? Or takes her to the aquarium? Who loves and protects
her? Missing guts me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">“Robert, please
hurry.” I whisper. I need to forget I shouldn’t have left that night.</span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-75393901864639855372016-09-21T04:58:00.005-07:002016-09-22T10:54:40.112-07:00YA Contemporary Fantasy: In Lyres and Lies<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2pH7SjqKvvSTsuuVzgnZBcIX1vLIWCZXMfUhxQNL06fff9p7WfCvIgj0Y9IvN3aws7U3s1BYYYqjP7pEvVN9JgGImut5m6KoXggctqIFVJsDnjZryVfKxv0CryFOFEF3AgUZpgAPptnPT/s1600/star+wars+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2pH7SjqKvvSTsuuVzgnZBcIX1vLIWCZXMfUhxQNL06fff9p7WfCvIgj0Y9IvN3aws7U3s1BYYYqjP7pEvVN9JgGImut5m6KoXggctqIFVJsDnjZryVfKxv0CryFOFEF3AgUZpgAPptnPT/s320/star+wars+8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">35 word Pitch:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><b> </b>Siren-blood McKenna breaks the most sacred laws of her kind; binding her song to one Siren, her soul to another, while discovering that being heard, being <i>obeyed</i>, is much more satisfying than being silenced.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Genre: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">YA Contemporary
Fantasy</span></div>
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<br />
<br />
<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Title: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;">IN LYRES AND LIES (A
Siren's Lament)</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Word Count: </span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">70,000<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">If you're main
character could be any Star Wars character, who would they choose and why? </span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Honestly? McKenna
won't get likability points for this, but she'd choose someone like
Mother Talzin. Sure, she's evil as hell itself, but Talzin knows exactly
what she's capable of. She knows her power inside and out, and isn't above
using it for her own personal gain. McKenna has always been too afraid of
herself to explore her True potential. At least Talzin dies defending her
son though, right?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br />
<a name='more'></a><b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">First 250 Words:</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">A familiar pressure
lives in the gap between my collarbones. I rub at it absently, trying to banish
the thought that it hurts worse than yesterday. Every day it builds and
festers, and <i>every day</i> I’m sure there’s nothing I can do to
hold it any longer. I imagine myself breaking apart, right down the center, and
letting that viral pain leak out into the world because skin isn't strong
enough to contain it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Is it bothering you
again?” Mother asks from the hallway. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I drop my hands, but
it’s too late. She’s already crossing my bedroom to lay the back of her
cool hand against the base of my burning throat, checking for heat in the
way a normal mother might inspect for fever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I shrug away her
question, hoping she’ll leave it at that. She doesn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">“You’ll learn to
ignore it,” she says like she does every time we discuss my pain. When she
speaks again, Mother addresses my demon spot instead of <i>me</i>.
“I’ll be working through the night, so call Charly to come sit with you.
Remember the rules.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her message
delivered, she checks the heat at my throat once more before her
usual absence replaces her in the doorway. I stay right where I am until
the front door closes, count to one-hundred, then peek through the pink
curtains to make sure she’s gone.</span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">A strangled sigh
aggravates the pressure building in my throat. <i>Twenty more seconds</i>,
I promise myself, <i>then the rule-breaking can begin.</i></span></span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-22012455832149265822016-09-21T04:58:00.004-07:002016-09-22T10:53:28.085-07:00MG Thriller: My Paper Route and Other Deadly Things<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjle3mJlEPJfmXZgBlVMEWJML_CyZDpcnJtvf9X6Q1CZA_D-XRKOuvjfuizU-Gjp9z-oslvJqbh7PygwHpNlj-nAGI17ZoRmZj8bsVVet5DtyvjcG51OSB93APObio9XetyJ-dX9PW5tgqr/s1600/star+wars+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjle3mJlEPJfmXZgBlVMEWJML_CyZDpcnJtvf9X6Q1CZA_D-XRKOuvjfuizU-Gjp9z-oslvJqbh7PygwHpNlj-nAGI17ZoRmZj8bsVVet5DtyvjcG51OSB93APObio9XetyJ-dX9PW5tgqr/s320/star+wars+9.jpg" width="251" /></a></div>
<span style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Pitch:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><b> </b>Twelve-year-old papergirl and sleuth Kazuko Jones knows the Athen’s Kidnapper is on her route. But in a botched rescue attempt, her BFF is swiped, and Kazuko must spring him free before he disappears forever.</span></span></span><br />
<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Genre:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> Upper Middle
Grade Thriller</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Title:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> My Paper Route
and Other Deadly Things<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Word Count:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> 45,000<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Special Question:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Kazuko would
choose to be Rey because she’s all about saving herself and others. Also,
because running while holding hands is stupid.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">First 250 Words: </span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Mom let me keep the
paper route even though kids in our town were disappearing. It was a tough
sell, but I convinced her that I had lots of <i>gambaru, </i>which is
Japanese for the ability to slog through the mud pits of life or something. She
was distracted by my clever language skills and didn’t suspect a thing about my
detective work. It was <i>always </i>about the detective work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">But even girl
detectives got nervous about kidnappers roaming their town before sunrise. So
when I delivered papers I rode my bike fast like an <i>oni </i>chased
me—a red one with black horns, a dark mane, and a crooked mouthful of yellow
Lego teeth—all while keeping my eye open for suspicious characters. I rocked at
multitasking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I stood
on the pedals when I turned the corners of our biggish neighborhood, swerving
to straighten the wheels of my baby-blue Schwinn cruiser, the crunchy sound of
gravel loud in the still air.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">At dawn, the fall sky
in Athens, Idaho was the color of purple velvet and smelled like wet dirt and
smoke, probably from people using their fireplaces for the first time. No one
turned their porch lights on this soon after summer so the streets were crowded
with dark shadows. Only one house on this side of Morningside got the paper, so
I imagined the block was a haunted alley and rode my bike in the middle of the
road to avoid all the hiding places. </span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-20543338098445547972016-09-21T04:58:00.001-07:002016-09-21T14:58:04.189-07:00YA Fantasy: The Fall of Troy<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXcn0ogpZZ2LjAs-DO0KwSnGbmvTODpBnKdAquegaR-b-0pmJ8DkKiI3W47kHXi_g2v66MGTH9HjDGctrfrV6w2ubohAKmcdBnRG3pF2DG16Fj7OvLYYHRigZZpl8ulyvMnAexHqnYe-S/s1600/star+wars+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXcn0ogpZZ2LjAs-DO0KwSnGbmvTODpBnKdAquegaR-b-0pmJ8DkKiI3W47kHXi_g2v66MGTH9HjDGctrfrV6w2ubohAKmcdBnRG3pF2DG16Fj7OvLYYHRigZZpl8ulyvMnAexHqnYe-S/s320/star+wars+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><b style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">35 Word Pitch:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><b> </b>When Helen of Troy enters the afterlife, she must face all the heroes who died in the war she caused. She doesn't remember the past, but they do—and they aren't ready to forgive her.</span></span></span><br />
<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Genre:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> YA Fantasy</span></div>
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<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Title:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"> THE FALL OF TROY<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Word Count:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"> 76,000<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Special Question:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0cm;"> She'd want to be Rey, who is
capable, independent, brave—and a very good fighter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
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<b style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">First 250 Words:</span></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The flowers were as
insubstantial as we were. They were gray, too, as gray as the rest of the
landscape, and they whispered among themselves, the petals fluttering without
wind, as if sharing secrets. But there were no secrets in the Asphodel Meadows,
just as there was no color. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Only,
sometimes—there was. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Time had little
meaning here, but I marked it by his arrival. I saw the distant glow of him, the
light of the living as he moved through the throngs of the dead. Other shades
clamored around him, drawn like I was to the way he shone, the gold of his hair
and the sword by his side. It was better and worse when he came, for my mind
was clearer at the sight of him but the sharpness of it cut me in a way the
numbness could not. Still, I felt myself move toward him, close enough
that I could hear his voice. It sounded like music. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I’m sorry,” he was
saying, over and over, until the words began to blur together. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I pushed closer,
through the other shades that blocked my path, until I was by his side, looking
at him for the first time. He was more beautiful up close, all sharp planes and
light and so much life it hurt to look at. </span></span></div>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-18238786365623630032016-09-15T16:25:00.000-07:002017-02-13T22:08:09.307-08:00YA Paranormal: The Waiting Dark - Judge the Judges<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcXupMMrgzCHv1KOwo1C4gw5cMmx09wkbTMNoAH74hKmySwDfFPUOyBsmpwwktowpCDh8C-wC2gfegv_scOID-uGVJ5gxEMaRvkaMdgbqUEeIhV_Jx6AS5Xx7P8mABdPtxGycxi6WjiXd/s1600/waiting+dark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcXupMMrgzCHv1KOwo1C4gw5cMmx09wkbTMNoAH74hKmySwDfFPUOyBsmpwwktowpCDh8C-wC2gfegv_scOID-uGVJ5gxEMaRvkaMdgbqUEeIhV_Jx6AS5Xx7P8mABdPtxGycxi6WjiXd/s200/waiting+dark.jpg" width="145" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">35 Word Pitch: </strong></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large; text-indent: 0cm;">Sick of hiding from moronic fans of the TV movie about her life, sixteen-year-old Lena tackles an even tougher challenge: exorcising the ghost of her serial killer mother before Mommy Dearest finds new victims.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span><br /></span>
<br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Every year, some of the Pitch Slam judges post their own "entries." Partly to give you a better sense of how to format yours for the final round (PLEASE make sure yours looks like the entry below</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">), but mostly so you can try your hand at critiquing the people who critiqued you. It's a nice distraction as you process your feedback, or take a break from revisions. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Please know that you are not supposed to be perfect at this. None of us are. And we'd feel kind of useless and annoyed if your entries didn't need our help. ;) Please join us on the #PitchSlam twitter feed for more words of encouragement, revision tips, and (during the final round) some teasers about our final picks. <3</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">Name: </strong><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Kimberly Vanderhorst</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">Genre: </strong><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">YA Paranormal</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">Title: </strong><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">The Waiting Dark</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">Word Count: </strong>75,000</span></div>
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<span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>If your main character could be any Star Wars character, who would they choose and why?: </b>Han Solo, for sure. Lena knows exactly how it feels to have people dodging your every footstep, wanting more from you than you can possibly give. Life on the run kinda sucks sometimes, but with Dad as her slightly-less-hairy-than-Chewbacca traveling companion, it isn't so bad.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">35 Word Pitch: </strong></span><span style="line-height: 107%; text-indent: 0cm;">Sick of hiding from moronic
fans of the TV Movie about her life, sixteen-year-old Lena
tackles an even tougher challenge: exorcising the ghost of her serial killer
mother before Mommy Dearest finds new victims.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">First 250 Words: </strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: times, times new roman, serif;"><b> </b></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large; text-indent: 0cm;">One of the worst things
about having a famous dead mom is looking like her.</span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; padding: 0cm;">I tug my baseball cap over my hair and tuck a few black wisps under the
brim, but it’s useless. The boobs my body gave me for my sixteenth birthday
look even bigger in the warped glass of the gas station’s bathroom mirror. No
amount of adjusting my oversized gray sweatshirt is going to hide them.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; padding: 0cm;">Crap.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; padding: 0cm;">I wrinkle my nose and my reflection crumples like an empty gum wrapper.
Most girls get excited when stuff like this happens, but I didn’t have boobs
the day Mom died. My chest might as well be a blinking neon sign advertising
the fact she’s been gone for three years.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; padding: 0cm;">And that she's been haunting us for just as many.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; padding: 0cm;">I yank the hat off and chuck it at the overflowing garbage bin. Dad’s
not going to like it. People leave us alone when I pass for a boy, and Dad
loves being left alone. But the more I . . . develop, the more I look like my
dead-but-not-quite-departed-yet mother. We can hide from fame, but I can’t hide
from my own body, from the face that carries traces of hers.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; padding: 0cm;">The bathroom door groans as I heave it open. Rain slides along my
collarbone like a wet finger. Oregon was supposed to be warmer than Alaska. Dad
promised. But the wet sank into my bones when we arrived this morning, and I'm
basically a human ice floe now.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large; padding: 0cm;">Read more "Judge the Judges" posts here:</span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none; color: red; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; padding: 0cm;"><b><a href="https://cindyrwilson.com/2016/09/12/ya-near-future-sci-fi-into-the-deep/" target="_blank">Cindy Wilson</a></b></span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none; color: red; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; padding: 0cm;"><b><a href="http://blog.lauraheffernan.com/2016/09/the-revenge-of-writers.html" target="_blank">Kara Reynolds</a></b></span></span></h2>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.ca/2016/09/adult-speculative-fiction-camila-folds.html" target="_blank">Rowan Hall</a></span></b></h2>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://chmcfarland.wordpress.com/2016/09/14/judge-the-judges-sample-pitchslam-entry/" target="_blank">Caitlyn McFarland</a></span></b></h2>
<h2>
<b><a href="http://insanity.today/2016/09/14/you-be-the-judge-a-pitch-slam-entry-for-my-wip/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kelly deVos</span></a></b></h2>
<h2>
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.jdodonnell.com/blog/2016/9/14/my-pitch-slam-entry" target="_blank">Jim O'Donnell</a></span></b></h2>
<h2>
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://thiswritersworldplotbunnies.blogspot.ca/2016/09/ya-psychological-thriller-mad-season.html" target="_blank">Jamie Corrigan</a></span></b></h2>
<h2>
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://rebeccaw23.wixsite.com/glowolf143/single-post/2016/09/14/Pitch-Slam-You-Critique-Us" target="_blank">Rebecca Waddell</a></span></b></h2>
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Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-755812716904187545.post-43144717677801744712016-09-14T08:07:00.000-07:002016-09-22T12:05:14.258-07:00Adult Speculative: Camila Folds - Judge the Judges<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.56522; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; vertical-align: baseline;">35 Word Pitch: </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Twenty-three-year-old nursing student Camila is supposed to be dead. Saved from an exploding plane by a teleporting English teacher, she must prove her worth to his secret society or never see her five-year-old son again.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Name:</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Erin Hall (writing as Rowan Hall)</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Genre: </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Adult Urban Speculative</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Title: </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Camila Folds</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Word Count: </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">83,000</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If your main character could be any Star Wars character, who would they choose and why?: </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Camila would be Ahsoka Tano because she’s spunky, a problem solver, eager to prove herself capable, and, though she doesn’t know it, she’s just started an apprenticeship. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: baseline;">35 Word Pitch: </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; vertical-align: baseline;">Twenty-three-year-old nursing student Camila is supposed to be dead. Saved from an exploding plane by a teleporting English teacher, she must prove her worth to his secret society or never see her five-year-old son again.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">First 250 Words: </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Camila Maria Vera jumped out of an exploding plane with a man she barely knew. The alternative was death, but Abuela still would not have approved.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Still, she did it, and although she had moments later when she regretted it and everything that followed more than late night black coffee and onion rings runs, most human beings probably would have done the same thing. It’s remarkable what we can justify when the airborne vehicle we are in is disintegrating a mile over the desert. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Before the disintegration, though, and before the regret, and well before Abuela ever got wind of what might have happened that night, Camila Maria Vera argued with the woman checking her in for her flight back to Los Angeles from Atlanta. It was mostly about the special item the airline had now lost twice, though the fact Camila was holding the airline to their promise of an upgrade to first class on this red-eye also came into play. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Daniel Harriman,” Cami said, pulling out the business card with the name of the oh-so-penitent manager upon it. “He assured me,” she added, speaking firmly, using a lot of eye contact, and channeling the last of her dwindling energy at the woman, “that my insurance would be comped and I would be upgraded to first class for the return flight. It </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">should</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> already be done.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Despite the fact that she was frizzy-haired and haggard from three days of wearing a Yoda Hoodie in 90 degree and 90% humidity weather, she did her best to keep it together.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Want to read more "Judge the Judges" posts?</span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none; color: red; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; padding: 0cm;"><b><a href="https://cindyrwilson.com/2016/09/12/ya-near-future-sci-fi-into-the-deep/" target="_blank">Cindy Wilson</a></b></span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 1pt none; color: red; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; padding: 0cm;"><b><a href="http://blog.lauraheffernan.com/2016/09/the-revenge-of-writers.html" target="_blank">Kara Reynolds</a></b></span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><a href="http://kimberlyvanderhorst.blogspot.ca/2016/09/TWD.html" target="_blank">Kimberly Vanderhorst</a></b></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><a href="https://chmcfarland.wordpress.com/2016/09/14/judge-the-judges-sample-pitchslam-entry/" target="_blank">Caitlyn McFarland</a></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://insanity.today/2016/09/14/you-be-the-judge-a-pitch-slam-entry-for-my-wip/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kelly deVos</span></a></h2>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.jdodonnell.com/blog/2016/9/14/my-pitch-slam-entry" target="_blank">Jim O'Donnell</a></span></b></h2>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://thiswritersworldplotbunnies.blogspot.ca/2016/09/ya-psychological-thriller-mad-season.html" target="_blank">Jamie Corrigan</a></span></b></h2>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://rebeccaw23.wixsite.com/glowolf143/single-post/2016/09/14/Pitch-Slam-You-Critique-Us" target="_blank">Rebecca Waddell</a></span></b></h2>
Kimberly Vanderhorsthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01653757517652257445noreply@blogger.com6