I had a wonderful conversation this morning with a lovely woman who played competitive golf in high school. "Why?" you ask.
My WIP is about a teenage girl who struggles to overcome her nerves to compete in a major junior golf tournament. Her experiences are [very] loosely inspired by my own teen years playing golf. The primary conflict is the angst of competing in an all-boys sport and the stuff that comes out of that.
But my experiences were 20something years ago - and I wasn't sure that things were still the same. The novel needs to be relevant to today - it's not set in the past.
It turns out that things are not that different in the junior golf world. At least not in this young woman's experience. So, I feel validated. I may reach out to some more young golfers in the coming weeks as I contemplate querying.
It's wonderful when people take time out of their own busy days to support your work.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Shannon's Agent Signing Contest
I am so going to do this when I sign with an agent. Notice I said when not if.
Shannon Whitney Messenger recently signed with Laura Rennert and she's giving away signed books from her fellow agented authors.
Link here if you want to read about her good news.
Shannon Whitney Messenger recently signed with Laura Rennert and she's giving away signed books from her fellow agented authors.
Link here if you want to read about her good news.
All Summer in a Day - by Ray Bradbury
If you're not familiar with this story - here's an excerpt. It's a fantastic story, written over 50 years ago. Google it and read it in it's entirety. It's only 2000 words. It's how I feel today.
The children pressed to each other like so many roses, so many weeds, intermixed, peering out for a look at the hidden sun.
It rained.
It had been raining for seven years; thousand upon thousands of days compounded and filled from one end to the other with rain, with the drum and gush of water, with the sweet crystal fall of showers and the concussion of storms so heavy they were tidal waves come over the islands. A thousand forests had been crushed under the rain and grown up a thousand times to be crushed again. And this was the way life was forever on the planet Venus, and this was the schoolroom of the children of the rocket men and women who had come to a raining world to set up civilization and live out their lives.
“It’s stopping, it’s stopping!”
The children pressed to each other like so many roses, so many weeds, intermixed, peering out for a look at the hidden sun.
It rained.
It had been raining for seven years; thousand upon thousands of days compounded and filled from one end to the other with rain, with the drum and gush of water, with the sweet crystal fall of showers and the concussion of storms so heavy they were tidal waves come over the islands. A thousand forests had been crushed under the rain and grown up a thousand times to be crushed again. And this was the way life was forever on the planet Venus, and this was the schoolroom of the children of the rocket men and women who had come to a raining world to set up civilization and live out their lives.
“It’s stopping, it’s stopping!”
Monday, March 29, 2010
QueryTracker Contest
I entered this contest at the Query Tracker blog today. Even if I don't place, it was a great excuse to polish up my one sentence pitch.
Wish me luck!
Wish me luck!
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