Showing posts with label #amquerying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #amquerying. Show all posts

Saturday, May 13, 2017

NEW New First Chapter of ASHMORE UNBROKEN


True, It's been a long, long time since I posted, but I have been busy with real world stuff...you know real jobs, kids, families, eating, etc.

I received a lot of feedback from people and various contests, and as such I would love to post my NEW and MUCH IMPROVED first chapter of Ashmore Unbroken (I did change the title as well). I would love feedback of course, I am always looking to improve, but the main thing I wanted to do for you the reader is get you grounded before I pummel you with action. Oh and just to be clear, the entire 90k word manuscript is completely finished, I JUST NEED AN AGENT!

 So here we are...

PART 1 - LIFE
CHAPTER 1 | TURBULENCE
Just another ordinary day in Shady Oaks, at least I thought it was when it started.
A brisk California breeze brushed though my shaggy brown hair as I stood ready to board the tiny looking eight passenger plane. The large, balding pilot and his much slimmer flight attendant were already traipsing up the stairs.
I looked around at the perfectly placed palm trees, set in a line parallel to the airport. Everything in this city seemed immaculately ordered – the weather, the people, even their daily routines. Not one hair was out of place here - except for me of course.
I never belonged in Shady Oaks.
Glancing ahead I noticed several sharp-dressed businessmen, probably heading to Lake Tahoe for a business retreat. There was a handsome couple, obviously newlyweds that were much too engrossed in each other’s eyes and lips to notice the world around them.
Then there was me, heading off to a small town near Lake Tahoe to help my grandma out after she broke her hip. Really, it was a getaway for me though, a chance to not hear my stepdad yelling my name, listen to all the loud music I wanted and binge-watch all the zombie shows I could dream of.
Suddenly I felt something grab me, drawing out a startled gasp.
A wrinkled old hand wrapped itself around my arm, a dry, creaky voice piercing through the quiet Spring air. “Help me up the stairs my boy?”
“Uh.” I tried to draw my arm away from the frail-looking woman, but her grip was much stronger than it looked.
As her other hand reached through the air, her sleeve lifted and I saw a faint outline of a tattoo, now worn and wrinkled like an old map. A large emerald ring on her finger glinted with metal serpents wrapping themselves around the green glowing gem.
Something about her seemed out of place, as if the tiny, delicate hands seemed much more appropriate on somebody else. I was sure I was going to have some bruises tomorrow at this rate.
“You know, you’re a handsome boy, dark brown hair, green eyes – you remind me of someone I used to know once, I think, long ago maybe...”
She trailed off.
Even though old people creeped me out I gripped her hand tight and whispered back, just biding my time until I could get to my seat and plug in my ear buds. “Thanks. I think.”
“What’s your name young man?” She leaned incredibly close to my ear, and I could almost feel her sandpaper lips against my ears.
“Gavin. Gavin Ashmore. And you?” I looked up toward her eyes, only to see frosted, cataract-filled eyeballs. I wondered how she even made it here.
“Ashmore. Ashmore. Where do I know that name?” And then a strange look flashed through the old woman’s gray eyes as recognition settled in. But a second later, it faded, and she only hummed to herself. “My mind isn’t quite what it used to be.”
            She never answered my question, but we were at the foot of the stairs leading up to the plane, which at this point still seemed like a tiny toy. A little nervous, I focused on helping the old woman grab onto the railing, though it seemed like she knew where she was.
            “Come on up, sir,” the brunette flight attendant called down. “Gavin Ashmore right? Your mom called earlier just to make sure you hadn’t run off - you get the very backseat – please sit down as soon as you can since we’ll be taking off shortly.”
            “Sure,” I said. Better that way to not have to talk to anyone. I couldn’t believe my mom had called in, but then again, my mom put all overbearing moms to shame with her skills.
Giving a curt smile, she turned to the elderly lady. “It looks like you’re in good hands there ma’am. Please take the seat in front of this young gentleman.” She whispered something to the fat and now-sweaty pilot if he knew CPR just in case.
Making our way up the stairs without any help at all, I could’ve sworn the old woman winked at the pilot as she walked by. She smiled in his direction, but it only looked like something evil under all those wrinkles.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I felt the sandpaper lips near my ear again.
“Do we have to?” I said.
She chuckled. “There’s only one thing I remember right now.”
With wrinkled eyebrows I looked up at her frosty eyes – obviously she had seen her fair share of battles, including dementia it seemed. Heaving a sigh, I said, “Okay, what is it?”
She smiled, and yet again it looked a bit scary. “I’m a princess.”
I tried to move my arm away, but the grip held firm. I laughed nervously, now remembering why I had a fear of old people, suddenly having second thoughts about this trip. I decided to play along.
“Of course you are.”
We reached our seats and it was now that I realized this woman had no luggage at all which struck me as odd. The way things were going so far though, it didn’t surprise me.
She let go of her grip momentarily, and I seized the opportunity, only to have the woman bring my ear back to her lips. This time she spoke seriously. “I am a princess. But now I am something else as well. A curse.”
She laughed, a gristly, metallic sound. I took my arm and sat down, hurriedly fetching out my earbuds and clicking my seatbelt.
A little voice in my head shamed me…
And that’s exactly why we never talk to people on planes.
My arm ached at all my pressure points so I clicked the volume up to max to distract me as Radiohead streamed. My new worst nightmare was being trapped on an airplane full of nursing home residents going on vacation.
I closed my eyes, drowning out the world around me until we could take off and reach cruising altitude.
Eventually though, my eyes grew heavier until they sunk under the weight of finally being free from stress.
The hard beats of alternative rock were always a lullaby for me.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
            A half hour must have passed with my head bobbing up and down in a restless kind of sleep.
            Rumbling rattled my phone out of its pocket, clanking against the metal bar on my seat.
My eyes shot open as adrenaline shook me awake.
Something woke me.
Something was off.
Something was wrong.
I threw my earbuds out and choked against the thick smoke filling the air. What little oxygen I could grasp just burned in every inch of my chest.
Worst wake up call. Ever.
Glancing up the aisle, the only thing I noticed was sheer panic as the other passengers sitting single file in front of me gulped and snorted for oxygen – That is, except for the old woman who sat in front of me quietly humming to herself as she wore an eerie smile and calmly looked out the window with glazed eyes.
A man and woman sobbed a few seats in front of me, telling each other how much they loved one another while holding hands between seats. One of the businessmen yelled fiercely at a shaking flight attendant, desperately pleading for a way off the plane and offering money for a
parachute.
Only one thought of panic course through me.
I was going to die. I wasn’t even sixteen and I was going to die.
I shut my eyelids. The smell of gasoline and burnt steel twisted in a sickening, pungent combination. My stomach lurched and my fingers burrowed deeper into the armrests.
The seat belt light overhead blared at me angrily. Like that little piece of fabric was going to help.
I looked to the front of the plane where the smoke had come from. I wondered what happened to the pilot.  Was he even on board anymore?
The engine sputtered on my right side as it completely gave out.
The plane dropped ten feet.
The flight attendant fell sprawled on the floor, spilling a box of masks she was about to hand out.
It was as if someone had taken the fastest roller coaster in the world and placed it on top of Mount Everest. My stomach was sitting on the ceiling by now. The plunging motion sickened and exhilarated me all at the same time.
I looked down at my Ramones t-shirt. My dad had introduced me to them –at least I would go out of this world wearing my favorite shirt. Glancing down at my hand, I could see the wristband my father had given me when he left – one of his last mementos – a fuzzy dark wristband with cursive white writing that spelled, “The Seraphs.” I thought it was a band he must have like, but he claimed it would protect me as long as I had it on – I had a feeling we were about to test that.
I felt a wrinkled old hand wrap itself around my leg, a dry, creaky voice piercing through the din. It was the old woman again, probably thinking she was on a cruise ship or something.
“Give me your hand my boy,” the woman said. “Such a sweet child like yourself shouldn’t have to die this way.”
“We both finally agree on something,” I said.
“What was your name again young man?” She asked dryly.
“Gavin Ashmore.” I gripped the armrests in a death hold. This was definitely my new, new worst nightmare.
This time her eyes visibly changed from grey to bright blue. “It couldn’t be.” she muttered to herself. “I know that name…”
“Sorry, what?” I demanded as a pen rattled by my feet.
“You - you are an Ashmore. But I thought…I thought they were all gone. We haven’t sensed one of those in years. There may be hope after all if the Unbroken lives.”
I snatched my now-sweaty hand away. “What?”
The old woman sprang from her feet, much quicker than someone her age should be able to do, yelling to the attendant sprawled across one of the chairs. “Is there a parachute here? This boy needs it! NOW!”
Another loud crash rang through the air as something mechanical failed and stole my nerves away.
More screaming.
More crying.
More shouting.
A loud voice rang over the speakers, struggling to eek out words.
“Errr - This is your captain. “I – errrr,” he gasped. “I am so sorry. I-I failed.”
Then nothing but static.
The other engine sputtered and gave out, replacing the tumult with a grave silence that reverberated death.
No screaming.
No crying.
Not a single shout.
The plane tipped downward, and I felt weightless. The steep motion thrilled my senses, but at the same time crushed the remaining breath out of my lungs.
The other passengers must have passed out by now, or given up I figured.
I would die soon also.
I tried to gasp one last breath out, but it was stifled like a flame choking out. Rolling my eyes back into my skull, I gave into the darkness that welcomed me.
I heard one more deafening crash.
Then...
Nothing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A faint light danced in front of my face. I would’ve reached out and grabbed it if I even had an arm. It felt like my consciousness was just floating somewhere in –between worlds. Time had no meaning – I could’ve been staring at this thing for the past century and I would’ve had no idea.
The light exploded in the darkness where I now existed, only to be replaced suddenly by a small figure - a girl in fact.
A glowing, fiery ring appeared before my view. The girl held it without getting burned.
She must have been something from another world, because she was singly the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. In stark contrast to the chaotic rush before the darkness, she stood calmly looking down at me. Her skin was porcelain white, while her hair sat
in tight, jet-black ringlets on her head. Her eyes were the purest blue that could have been created. Flowing white wisps surrounded her as her dress enveloped her body.  She looked down at me, frowning with pity.
I tried to reach her, but without an embodied hand, I just watched silently. She spoke, almost singing as she did so. Though she looked in my direction, it didn’t seem like she was speaking to me, but calling out to something…or someone.
It sounded like some kind of Latin to me.
“Sanetus.”
She repeated it over again, as she reached out her gentle fingers. A glowing ball of light appeared at the tip of her index finger, and she placed it where my forehead should have been.
She spoke again, “I have been watching you Gavin Ashmore and you must not die. You are only sixteen, too young for anyone. Especially for you.”
A blast of radiance engulfed my consciousness. I was instantly sucked back into my body like a vacuum.
My eyes shot open, but it was still pitch black.
I labored to breathe – something stifled me like a plastic bag. Sweat trickled down my forehead, making my eyes sting. I could hear distant voices muffled through whatever was wrapped around me.
I reached out my now-embodied hand and pushed the plastic away from my face. I scratched and pinched at it until I felt an ice-cold metal object against my hot skin.
I closed my fingertips around it and pulled the zipper down hard–Daylight exploded into my vision and blinded my eyes like a flash bang.
I bolted up from a black body bag, thrashing and kicking at it to free myself.

“Over here!” Someone shouted. “There’s a live one!”

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

FYI: Word Count Guidelines for Different Genres.


There were some comments raised that my manuscript may be too long, since it comes in at about 96k words and may be ONE reason my queries are rejected. IT MADE ME THINK!  I had spoken with some agents prior regarding word count, and from several sources I had heard at least 75k words. So I did a little more digging, and I post this just for your information.

Keep in mind, THEY ARE JUST GUIDELINES!! There are exceptions to the rules, but if you keep getting rejected, it may be one of the reasons.

This is taken from litreactor.com in a Q&A session with a literary agent.
Adult Fiction:
Anything above 70k but less than 115k (science fiction and fantasy tend to run up around 100k-115k words). The sweet spot for adult is about 90k. 
Middle Grade:
With fun, lighthearted, simple middle grade you’ll want to stay around the 20k-30k word count range. The average middle grade is 30k-40k. Upper middle grade can hit in the 50k word count range (possibly longer, if it's something really special).
Young Adult:
Young adult fiction allows for a lot of flexibility in word count. And as you’ve probably guessed… it is sitting pretty right in between middle grade and adult. YA manuscripts can have a word count anywhere from 55k to 90k.  
Picture Books:
Picture books are generally less than 1000 words. About 500-700 words is perfect. 
Also remember (because there are a bunch of new novel imprints opening their doors), a novella is 40k or less.
Pro tip: Try not to completely tether yourself to word counts. Let your writing take you where you need to go. But use good intuition and follow some of the rules.

I hope that clears up some questions! For me personally, since I am coming in at 96k for YA, I may be pushing the range a bit, so I'll see if there's something else I can take out to put it closer to 90k.  
Let me know if you've heard differently! Thanks!

UPDATED! A New Hope, A New Query Letter...



After posting my query letter, I received some comments that it may be pushing it in terms of length and amount of paragraphs, probably a borderline synopsis if anything. Thank you for the feedback!!!

With that, I decided to put my thinking cap on and consolidate things a little more. Overall I think we have a pretty good outcome - not too long, not too short, just "Goldilocks" sweet!

Please let me know what you think! I appreciated the comments last time.

Dear AGENT XXXXX:

  First of all, I wanted to thank you in advance for your hard work and the time you put in for aspiring authors, despite having an incredibly busy schedule.  On your bio, you have said you are seeking XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX, and for those reasons I feel my manuscript would be a terrific fit for your representation!  I am Unbroken is a YA fiction, most relevant to the paranormal fantasy genre. It currently totals 96,000 words. Those readers enjoying such titles as Alice in Zombieland or The Vampire Diaries will readily identify with its style of writing. 

    Sixteen-year-old Gavin Ashmore had always suspected his family was different, maybe even insane to the point of hearing voices and seeing “ghosts.”  But lifelong loner Gavin doesn’t believe, won’t believe any of it. All of that begins to change after the plane crash however. Gavin begins to see and hear things, just like his family he thought was so crazy.  Because of that ability, he learns that an ancient spirit named Cain has been searching for Gavin, and now that he turned sixteen, Gavin becomes vulnerable to Cain. Gavin learns he is one of many in a long line of Ashmore's that has received the title of Unbroken, the curse bearers. This curse is what keeps Cain stuck between the living and dead worlds, thus imprisoning him in a nearly impenetrable cell.  As with anything, there is still one provision to break Cain free, and that lies within the very heart of Gavin Ashmore.

   To survive, Gavin must learn to fight Cain. He can only do it with the help of his own guardian angel, Alina, a beautiful dark-haired Italian teen who lived centuries ago. As he trains however, Gavin learns he has his own unique ability to manipulate spirits, a talent only one other in history has possessed - Cain. Gavin himself must decide if he will destroy Cain or take his place as one of the most powerful beings on the planet. 

    In trade, I am a dentist, but my heart has always been in writing. I have published several articles in various dental journals, and have even won scholarships by writing essays. I also maintain a blog called “Christian Quits His Day Job,” which describes my process as a writer. However, I am seeking to do more with my passion of writing, and so I turn to you for your help to make this dream come true.

   Thank you so much for your time, which I know is precious. While I have included a sample of the first 5 pages, a partial or full manuscript is ready at your request.

Monday, June 6, 2016

More Rejections = More Query Letter Revisions!



So following a string of about 20 rejections with no requests at all, I figured it was time to go through and revamp things a little more. Since I posted my last query letter, I've since defined what makes my story unique. I also realized that most agents receive thousands of queries, hence the delay in getting back to you.

The hardest part of being a writer is not getting feedback I think.

If not, you go on in your merry way, thinking you've written the best thing on the planet, and it's the agents' problems they aren't taking your manuscript and sending it to every publisher in the world. I decided though if after twenty query rejections, I would go back and revise.

Again, I had to find what was unique about my YA paranormal fantasy when it's a tough sell. Thanks to some already established authors, they helped me to see that my conflict and world building is what makes my book unique.

So I focused on that (It took lots of thinking and deleting) but I really enjoy the final product. I post it here not necessarily for your criticism (though it's always welcome) but more so for your feedback and progress..

Here it is:

Dear AGENT XXXXX:

   First of all, I wanted to thank you in advance for your hard work and the time you put in for aspiring authors, despite having an incredibly busy schedule.  On your bio, you have said you are seeking XXXXXXXXXXXX, and for those reasons I feel my manuscript would be a terrific fit for your representation!

   I am Unbroken is a YA fiction, most relevant to the paranormal fantasy genre. It currently totals 97,000 words. Those readers enjoying such titles as Alice in Zombieland or The Vampire Diaries will readily identify with its style of writing. 

    Sixteen-year-old Gavin Ashmore had always suspected his family was different, maybe even insane to the point of hearing voices and seeing “ghosts.”  His own father had even walked out on the family in a fit of paranoia when Gavin was younger, insisting that someone was after him, putting their whole family in danger.

    But lifelong loner Gavin doesn’t believe, won’t believe any of it. He has other mundane teenage drama to deal with – his politician step-father, the class bullies, and rolling his eyes as the cheerleaders “LOL” with each other.  That’s why he takes it upon himself to wish for a different life on his sixteenth birthday.

    But Gavin wasn’t prepared for how different his life was about to become after the plane crash.

    Following the accident, Gavin begins to see and hear things, just like his family he thought was so crazy.  Because of that ability, he learns that an ancient spirit named Cain has been searching for Gavin, and now that he turned sixteen, Gavin becomes vulnerable to Cain. Gavin learns he is one of many in a long line of Ashmore's that has received the title of Unbroken, the curse bearers. This curse acts as collateral to keep Cain stuck between the living and dead worlds, thus imprisoning him in a nearly impenetrable cell.  As with anything, there is still one provision to break Cain free, and that lies within the very heart of Gavin Ashmore.

   To survive, Gavin must learn to fight Cain. He can only do it with the help of his own guardian angel, Alina, a beautiful dark-haired Italian teen who lived centuries ago. As he trains however, Gavin learns he has his own unique ability to manipulate spirits, a talent only one other in history has possessed - Cain. Gavin himself must decide if he will destroy Cain or take his place as one of the most powerful beings on the planet. 

    In trade, I am a dentist, but my heart has always been in writing. I have published several articles in various dental journals, and have even won scholarships by writing essays. I also maintain a blog called “Christian Quits His Day Job,” which describes my process as a writer. However, I am seeking to do more with my passion of writing, and so I turn to you for your help to make this dream come true.

   Thank you so much for your time, which I know is precious. While I have included a sample of the first 5 pages, a partial or full manuscript is ready at your request.