Last week I participated in a Twitter pitch contest through the popular Miss Snark’s First Victim blog (http://www.misssnarksfirstvictim.blogspot.com/) and was selected as one of ten blogs to participate in a blog hop to receive critiques on the first 25o words of my manuscript. It’s a win for me because I’m at the perfect stage to be getting critiques on my opening page, but it’s a win for you, too, because for every critique you leave for me or one of the other participants, you receive an entry for a 15-page line-edit from Authoress Edits. Thank you for selecting my pitch, Authoress!
Without further ado, here is the Twitter logline I used to catch Authoress’s attention, along with the first 250 words of A BOY COULD. I look forward to your comments!
YA C: LIAR SOCIETY meets 12th NIGHT when 16yo Hannah becomes Gid at summer camp to catch the boy who put her brother in a coma.
(Note: Gid is short for Gideon–a casualty of 140 characters! Since so many have asked :).)
First 250 words:
1.4 seconds. I looked up a velocity formula online, so I know that’s how long it took you to hit the dumpster. 1.4 seconds. Less time than it takes the average person to be thrown from a mechanical bull–which would have been a smarter stunt.
You do these stupid things without considering the consequences. You think you’re invincible. Well, you’re not. You might never wake up, and it’ll be all your fault.
And mine. Because I should have been there on time to pick you up.
Maybe then you’d be sitting here next to me instead of
“Hannah! Could you come down here, please?” Mom’s voice was muffled through my bedroom door.
Probably another church member with a foil-covered casserole dish. Except Mom didn’t need me for that. Maybe it was Lena. She’d been bugging me to go out with her this weekend.
I snapped my notebook closed and flicked a glance in the mirror to make sure I was decent–not a sure thing lately. I’d greeted the youth minister the other day in skimpy pajama shorts and a cami with no bra. He’d stared over my shoulder while he asked how I was holding up. Talk about awkward.
Satisfied I was fully dressed, I slipped out of my room. Multiple voices mingled in the foyer, including, I realized with a start, Dad’s. He usually only left Matt’s room in the trauma ward for work or sleep.
I peered around the corner down the stairs. Two strangers, a man and a woman, stood just inside the door.
Ok, that’s it for now! Be sure to check out the other participating blogs at http://misssnarksfirstvictim.blogspot.com/2014/07/blog-critique-tour.html!