Friday, April 29, 2016

From Submission to Offer with Alyson Heller

Super excited to share my interview with Alyson Heller, the editor at Aladdin who worked on Dee Romito's THE BFF BUCKET LIST. Ms. Romito's debut is set to drop next Tuesday, so it felt like the right time to get a behind-the-scenes peek into the acquisition process. Enjoy!

KV: First off, tell us a bit about THE BFF BUCKET LIST. What is it about, and what did you love about it?

AH: Skyler and Ella have been best friends since kindergarten, but lately, Ella feels like they are drifting apart. The solution? Ella comes up with The BFF Bucket List, and the girls must complete all the tasks together. As new friends, epic opportunities and super-cute boys enter the picture, the challenges on the list aren’t the only ones they face.

What I loved about The BFF Bucket list is that it speaks to the universal experience of the angst and struggles with friendship, particularly during these tween years. In this story, the girls are about to go off to high school, and the separation in interests and other friend groups starts to become more and more apparent. We’ve all been there, and Dee Romito does a wonderful job of showing this experience.

KV: Once you decided to take THE BFF BUCKET LIST to your acquisitions meeting/editorial board, did you inform Ms. Romito’s agent of your interest in the manuscript? Do you typically keep in contact with the agent throughout the process, or do you prefer to have a final decision in hand before you reach out?

AH: Yes, once we got in the pages from Dee, I shared with our immediate Aladdin editorial team, who read and loved, and we let Dee’s agent, Dr. Uwe Stender, know that we would be taking the manuscript to our acquisitions meeting. I usually let the agents know that I am taking something to acquisitions, just in case the status on their end has changed. Happily, our acquisitions board also loved the pages we presented, and I was able to make an official offer, which is always so exciting!

KV: Any last words of advice or encouragement you’d like to share with us?

AH: In some cases, I have seen a previous submission that hasn’t quite worked for my list or Aladdin’s list overall, but loved the voice and writing of the author--and there are a few instances where I have then signed them up for something down the line, whether it’s a new project they come back with, or a project we approached them for. That is a long way of saying don’t be discouraged if the first submission your agent goes out with doesn’t quite stick--we certainly keep note of those authors who we would love to work with someday on the right project if the opportunity comes along!

Wonderful advice, Ms. Heller. Thanks again for taking the time to answer my questions!

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Buy a Book, Get a Critique!

As I've watched the price of DON'T VOTE FOR ME keep going down and down on a popular retail site, I've wondered how I can encourage people to buy it without just coming out and saying, "Hey, buy my cheap book!" Today, the answer came to me: give them a critique with their purchase!

To that end, I'll critique the first 10 pages of your manuscript if you purchase either DON'T VOTE FOR ME or THE SOUND OF LIFE AND EVERYTHING from a bookseller of your choice. (I promise it won't be hard to find the price I mentioned above. As of the time and date of this post, it's $4.10.) To submit, please send your first 10 pages and your proof of purchase (like a screenshot or an order confirmation) to kvandolzer(at)gmail(dot)com WITHIN THE NEXT WEEK (by noon EDT on Tuesday, May 3). And for those of you who've already bought the book(s), I'll still critique your first 10 pages if you post a review on your favorite retail site. Just send me a link in addition to your first 10 pages!

Friday, April 15, 2016

The Writer's Voice: Where Is Noelle Henry Now?

One of the very first entries I read during TWV 2012 was for FACE THE MUSIC, a YA contemporary romance about a deaf cellist who gets paired up with a boy who's the opposite of her type in a coveted scholarship competition. I knew I wanted it right away, so it didn't surprise me when it and its author, Noelle Henry, got snatched up by a Writers House agent several months after the contest. What DID surprise me was when the project didn't sell. And when Noelle's next project didn't sell. And when--well, I guess I'll let Noelle tell her own story. Inspiration ahead:

When Krista first announced she was bringing the old Writer’s Voice gang back together for a special feature on her blog, I was thrilled to take part. But then reality set in. To update everyone on what has been going on with me since The Writer’s Voice contest was to essentially admit I’d been standing still for four years. And that...made this blog all the more difficult to write.

I signed with an amazing agent in 2012, not long after The Writer’s Voice contest, and I guess I sort of thought that meant success was right around the corner. I know, I know, I hear you all groaning at my naivete, but I’d written other books that had gone nowhere. I honestly felt Face the Music was the one. I’d been told over and over again how good books will always find a home. I’d written a good book. I believed in it. My agent believed in it. Wasn’t that enough?

Most of us have dealt with our fair share of rejection, so when the passes started rolling in on that book, I told myself it was no big deal. I wrote another book and another one. I poured my heart and soul into them, believed in them with everything I had. And still, at the end of the day, they went nowhere. I understood all about the subjective nature of this business, I got that publishing was just as much timing and luck as it was perseverance, but with each new rejection, every close call that fell through, my self-confidence broke more and more.

I’d tied all of my self-worth into getting that elusive book deal, and without it, I felt like a failure. Regardless of the fact that I’d written several great books I’d once been so proud of, I had nothing. I was nothing. Writing wasn’t fun anymore. It was torture. I’d let all my disappointments rob me of the joy of doing what I’d once loved best. Every time I sat at the computer, I was paralyzed by anxiety and doubt. Was this sentence strong enough? Were my characters interesting enough? Was I just wasting my time on another book that wouldn’t sell? 

Now, I hope you’re rolling your eyes at me saying you don’t relate to this. I hope you’ve taken every moment of your writing journey in stride and are still putting one foot in front of the other. But just in case you are like me, and you’re finding that belt of disappointment getting so heavy around your waist you can’t take another step, take some time to remember why you started writing in the first place--way before the idea of selling a book was ever on your radar. Write it down if you can.

Next, remember that writing is what you do, not who you are. I’m betting all of you have other creative pursuits in your life. Whether that’s music, art, gardening, decorating, or maybe something completely different, the point is, we are all so much more. So why do so many of us tie our happiness and fulfillment into whether or not our book sells?

Lastly, step away if you need to. If writing has just become too frustrating and stressful, don’t feel guilty about taking a break. It’s okay. No one will think badly of you. The world will not end if you don’t write. Your writer friends will not disown you. Your agent won’t decide you’re too much of a burden and cut you loose. Shift your focus onto living an amazing life. Fill your days with everything you love, and I guarantee your love of words will come back to you when you’re ready.

In many ways, your words could be my words, Noelle. Thank you so much for sharing them with us.

Friday, April 8, 2016

The Writer's Voice: Where Is Lisa A. Koosis Now?

I have a special treat for you today, a guest post from Lisa A. Koosis, a TWV 2012 and TWV 2013 alum (though she was on Mónica's team the second year). Lisa's traveled a long road, so I'm especially happy to report that her debut, RESURRECTING SUNSHINE, will be available from Albert Whitman & Company later this fall. Enjoy!

When Krista and I first decided on perseverance as the topic of my guest post, I thought: surely I can come up with something clever to say about that. After all, it’s something I know a thing or two about. But then somehow, “clever” didn’t seem exactly right for the subject matter. Because perseverance by its very nature implies struggle, right? It implies time passing and roadblocks and setbacks and frustration. Yup, lots of frustration. So instead of being clever, I’d like to tell you the story of my journey, which if nothing else, is one of perseverance.

Back in 2012 when I first entered The Writer’s Voice, it wasn’t--as that old cliché goes--my first rodeo. I’d been querying since 2007. In fact, The Road of the Dead, my TWV entry that year, was the third manuscript I’d queried (and the fifth book I’d written). 

The first manuscript I’d queried, a mainstream drama called Children of the Moon, wasn’t the first book I’d written either. It was the third. The first two have never amounted to anything beyond being virtual dust collectors on my hard drive. In September 2007 I heard about The Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award (ABNA) for the first time, and knew I had to enter. I’d been revising Children of the Moon for probably two years, even as I’d been learning about queries and synopses and the etiquette of agent submissions. 

Truthfully, I think I’d also been dragging my feet on submitting, though looking back, I’m not sure why. I wasn’t afraid of rejection. I’d been navigating the short story markets for the better part of a decade by then, and had done fairly well for myself. In the process, I’d also received countless rejections, none of which had killed, maimed or otherwise injured me. (And I’ll tell you this… Agent rejections are nothing. Short story editors can be brutal!)

So I entered ABNA’s first competition…and flopped, not even making the first cut. Worse, they didn’t even advance the full amount of entries they’d slotted for that second round, which was a huge slap in the face. I’d heard the message--not good enough--loud and clear, but I let it fuel me, so I revised some more before embarking on a more traditional querying process. Eventually, after making the rounds, COTM got shelved.

A different manuscript made it to ABNA’s semifinals in Year 2. It also, subsequently, made it to Number 2 in another contest, one which was, unfortunately a first-place-or-nothing affair. That one got queried, too…and rejected and rejected and rejected and ultimately shelved.

By the time 2012 brought me to The Writers Voice for the first time, I’d entered ABNA every year. I’d even hit the semifinals with three different manuscripts. I’d been querying for five years straight, and though I can’t give you an exact count of my rejections at that point, I’ll say this: it was a whole lot. So when Krista posted “I want you” on my contest entry I was thrilled, but didn’t expect anything.

That turned out to be a good thing, because I didn’t get a single agent request from TWV that year…not a single one. And it confirmed what I might have known all along. That it was time to file away yet another manuscript.

My next project was a young adult manuscript that I’d been working on. I’d found my way to YA through another contest, one that I’d actually won, the Family Circle Short Fiction Contest. One of the prizes was a Mediabistro class. I’d wanted to learn from either an editor or an agent, so even though I considered myself an author of adult fiction, I chose the YA class, taught by the amazing Kendra Levin of Viking. The book I started for that class crashed and burned, but still, I came out of it with fresh inspiration, a newfound love for YA and an amazing critique partner.

This was the one, I thought. I was sure of it. But the YA manuscript only netted me more rejections.

I’d read time and again that if you were getting personal rejections you were getting close. Except I’d been getting personal rejections for years. Encouraging ones (You write beautifully and have an authentic voice. You’ll get there). Complimentary ones (Your world-building skills are amazing). Sometimes even perplexing ones (I think this could really be commercially successful but I’m going to have to pass. I loved this and couldn’t stop turning pages but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass). But rejections nonetheless. My significant other even made up a crazy, head-banging song about getting all these compliments and then the ultimate “no” that came at the end. He would sing it to make me laugh.

Conceptually, the idea of perseverance is great. But in practice, it’s hard to persevere. At least it was for me. There were times when I just flat-out quit (at least three times that I can think of), when I was sure I just didn’t have the heart to keep going. There were times I didn’t like who I was becoming, the frustration and jealousy getting the better of me as I watched other writers fly past me, securing agents, landing book deals, when they’d only been at it for a year or two. There were times when I felt hopeless. I couldn’t understand what I was doing wrong, or even worse, what other writers were doing right. I was the almost girl. I had been the almost girl for years. I was always going to be the almost girl.

And yet I kept coming back to it, like a compulsion. I nicknamed my YA manuscript “the book that would not die.” I had (and still have) an amazing critique partner who wouldn’t let it die, who believed in it even when I couldn’t.

And the bottom line was this. No matter what I told myself, what I wanted more than anything in the world was to publish a book.

At one point, when I was picking away half-heartedly at yet another round of revisions, my significant other bribed me. “Finish that new first chapter by the registration deadline,” he told me, “and I’ll pay for you to attend that conference you want to go to.” So I did. And not only did he keep his word; he even paid for a critique for that chapter. And at that critique, I met an editor who loved the first chapter. I pretty much got no critique, just a lovely conversation and an invitation to submit the full manuscript.

It was a no (no’s never surprised me by then), but she asked me about my idea for additional revisions and then confirmed that she thought I was on the right track. She even said she’d like to see the manuscript again when I was finished revising.

…which brings me to The Writer’s Voice Part 2 and Team Monica. I was dragging through revisions when I saw the announcement for TWV 2014. I perked up. Maybe it was just the deadline I needed to get myself motivated and moving. Plus, it might be the ideal place to test out those new revisions before I sent it along to that editor again. So I entered. And on my entry, Monica wrote “I want you.”

Of course, me being me, I didn’t expect anything.

But this time, a funny thing happened. Nine agents requested. A few days later, I got an email from an amazing agent asking to talk, a call that ended with an offer of representation. And it wasn’t my only one that week.

I went through another two rounds of revisions under my agent’s guidance, and then we went on submission. Approximately six months after that, I had two offers on “the book that wouldn’t die.”

It’s continued to be a rocky road for me. Without going into details, I’ll say that the publisher I’m with now isn’t the publisher whose offer I accepted that day back in April of last year. Weird things happen, sometimes, things that are beyond our control. But I will say that the publisher I’m with now feels like the one I’m supposed to be with. It feels right. And the “book that would not die, also known as Resurrecting Sunshine, will be out in Fall 2016 from the amazing folks at Albert Whitman & Co.

It’s funny. A few years ago when I was at my most discouraged, my significant other and I attended Book Expo America (BEA) in NYC. It was amazing and overwhelming and inspiring. And it also made me a little sad as I saw author after author signing their books? Was I never going to get where I wanted to be? Would I never join that elite club?

A few days ago I got an email from my publishing house. The subject line said: Invitation to BEA. Of course, I accepted it.

In less than two months I will be there, amid the beautiful chaos of BEA (in Chicago this year), doing an in-booth signing.

Sometimes, looking back, I think I’ve heard the word “no” more than anyone else on the planet. I know it’s not true, but it feels that way sometimes. But now, I’ve also heard the word “yes,” which somehow manages to surpass every single “no” put together. For me, that’s the exact beauty of perseverance.

Krista, thank you so much for inviting me to be a part of your blog, and thank you for all you and everyone at The Writer’s Voice have done for me.

My pleasure, Lisa. My pleasure.

Thursday, April 7, 2016

YA Recommendations for In-between Readers

Ally Carter recently tweeted about the dearth of YA books for in-between readers, or readers who have mentally and emotionally phased out of MG but aren't ready for or interested in the grittier, edgier stuff that takes up most of the space on YA shelves these days. As a reader who continues to be less interested in the grittier, edgier stuff, I thought I'd pull together a few of my favorite titles that fall into that in-between world.

Anything by Ally Carter

This topic was probably on Ally Carter's brain because she happens to write for those in-between readers, and she's long been one of the authors I'll pick up on the spot, no questions asked. She tends to write action-packed stories with a heap of quirky characters and snappy one-liners. My personal favorites are the books in her Heist Society series. I even recommended HEIST SOCIETY and UNCOMMON CRIMINALS a while back.

Anything by Lindsey Leavitt

Lindsey Leavitt is another of my go-to authors for fun--and funny--YA. Whereas Ms. Carter writes thrillers, Ms. Leavitt gravitates toward straight-up contemporary fiction. I honestly couldn't decide which of her books is my favorite, so I'll just say that SEAN GRISWOLD'S HEAD is the sweetest, GOING VINTAGE has the cleverest concept, and THE CHAPEL WARS is the most poignant. Take your pick!

Bloomsbury's "If Only" Series

In a YA market that skews older, this series specifically targets those in-between readers. As publishing director Cindy Loh puts it, "Every novel in the series provides a different ‘what-if ’ situation and fills in the blank. A hallmark of the line will be humor, which isn’t to say that every book will be a comedy, but there will be light moments in each novel. And every novel will be aspirational and ‘clean teen’--suitable for readers as young as twelve.” I've read several of these books, and my favorite is the one I just finished, Kristin Rae's WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED. Her main character loves old movies even more than I do, so it felt like this book was written especially for me.


I'm cheating a little with this pick, since Rebecca Petruck's STEERING TOWARD NORMAL is technically MG, but it's upper MG, so I'm going to include it:) I posted an official recommendation after I first read it several years ago, so I'll let you check that out. Suffice it to say that I love this book now every bit as much as I did then!


I wanted to include a fantasy or sci-fi on this list, and Diana Peterfreund's FOR DARKNESS SHOWS THE STARS has been on my mind again lately. Though the themes are deep enough to appeal to older readers, I'm sure my thirteen-year-old self would have loved this book. Since I posted an official recommendation for this one, too, I'll let those words speak for themselves.

I could go on and on, but I'll leave it there for now. What are some of your favorite YA books for in-between readers?

Friday, April 1, 2016

The Writer's Voice: Where Is Erin Petti Now?

One of the last entries I read during TWV 2012 was for an MG adventure then called THELMA BEE. The voice immediately hooked me (and it hooked three agents, too!), and now that I've had a chance to read the whole thing, I can say that the book, which comes out from Mighty Media Press this September, is just as charming and creepy in whole as it was in part. For more behind-the-scenes tidbits from author Erin Petti, read on!

KV: Congratulations on the upcoming release of THE PECULIAR HAUNTING OF THELMA BEE! What inspired you to write it?

EP: Thank you so much, Krista!

I think I wrote the kind of book that I love to read! I had a feeling that a big, fun, creepy, New England-y adventure was inside me and really wanted to get out. I lived by a river when I started writing Thelma and the natural scenery was so inspiring.

KV: After THELMA was featured in TWV 2012, it went on to land an agent and, ultimately, a book deal. Can you tell us about that process?

EP: When I entered Thelma into TWV in 2012, she was very early on in her development. I had the heart of the story, but it was through beta feedback that I was able to push the story and the characters further, and to create something that was ready for editor eyes.

I found my wonderful agent Laura through #MSWL on Twitter and she submitted our manuscript to Mighty Media Press. My editor, Lauren, has been instrumental in making the book what it is today. I’m really lucky that her vision meshes so well with my own. She’s got fantastic insights and I’m incredibly lucky to work with the MMP team!

KV: I remember loving Thelma, and she hasn't lost any of her shine. Where did her character come from? Is she based on a real person?

EP: Not in a specific way. I guess everyone we write, in some way, has the DNA of people we’ve met. I knew I didn’t want her to be hung up on the Middle School stuff that gets most kids down. I wanted her to take off from an unencumbered place. That’s VERY different than the way I was when I was her age. Maybe I wrote my 6th grade opposite!

KV: One of my favorite elements was the Riverfish Valley Paranormal Society. Have you ever been on a ghost hunt?

EP: Oh, I am DYING TO--no pun intended!!! I’ve been on ghost tours, and I watch every paranormal show I can get my hands on (Note: When Ryan Buell from Paranormal State gave Thelma a blurb, I was over the moon for a week straight). Additionally, I totally lived in a haunted dorm in college. But I’ve never been on an honest-to-goodness investigation and it’s a major life goal of mine.

KV: The book's setting--New England in the fall--felt especially appropriate for this story. Is Riverfish Valley a real place, and either way, how did you develop it as a character in and of itself?

EP: Riverfish Valley is not a real place in Massachusetts, but Maynard is. I lived right by the Assabet River when writing the book. The Assabet turned into the Beaverbottom River in Thelma’s backyard. In fact, Thelma’s house is based directly on the house I lived in in Maynard, and Riverfish itself takes a huge amount of inspiration from the quirky river town that I love--right down to the Clock Tower!

KV: Any last words of advice or encouragement you'd like to share with us?

EP: Just a crazy-big thank you! Krista, you were one of Thelma’s very first cheerleaders, and I can not tell you how grateful I am for your support. Please consider yourself an honorary member of RVPS!

I will! Thanks for coming back and catching us up to speed, Erin, and good, good luck with THELMA!

Monday, March 28, 2016

The Writer's Voice: Where Is Ben Spendlove Now?

The bad news is that my last week was a bit of a whirlwind, so I completely neglected the blog. The good news is that you'll be able to get a double dose of "Where Are They Now?" beginning with Ben Spendlove. Ben and I have been critique partners for going on six years, so DRIVERS was one of the few entries I got to read in its entirety. Ben's writing never ceases to blow me away, and the insights he shares below are just as keen.

KV: One of the things I loved most about DRIVERS was how it felt like a book that only you could write. What inspired you to write it?

BS: My first conception of DRIVERS was quite different from what I ended up writing; the protagonist was an investigative reporter who suspected an unmanned-ground-drone maker of actually putting people inside the drones. I work at a company that automates vehicles, so I knew a lot about the subject. In that form, however, it would have been more of a detective story.

As I worked it over in my mind, I was drawn more to the characters inside the drones. What would make someone voluntarily hide inside a robot that was likely to be destroyed? The answer, at least for me, was that they wanted to die. And I understood them, having gone through periods of depression and suicide attempts.

It became deeply personal, with the technology, setting, and action as a metaphor for exploring depression and suicide. These subjects are often misunderstood and stigmatized, so I wanted to show, metaphorically, what it was like. I tried to use my inside knowledge of how autonomous vehicles work to make it plausible and realistic.

KV: As one of your critique partners, I know that your writing has sometimes had to take a backseat to the rest of your life. What makes you keep coming back to it?

BS: I believe that everyone has a creative impulse. For me, it's strong. And though I like other creative endeavors, like rebuilding bicycles, I always come back to writing--and I always have. Writing gives me a positive place for my thoughts to dwell instead of worrying about what terrible things might happen in real life. It helps me sort through my experiences and emotions. On days that I write, I'm more focused at work and happier at home.

Last summer, I had a run-in with depression for the first time in over ten years. I'd thought I was done with depression, immune for life. But there it was. I turned to my writing, both what I'd written in DRIVERS and a new novel, to explore the aspects of my life that didn't feel right. Writing isn't a cure for depression; it can sometimes make it worse! But it can also help, and it has. (In fact, this last year has made me grateful that I don't have a publisher or even an agent. I don't have deadlines or commitments to deal with.)

Another draw is the love I develop for my characters and stories. I want them to reach their potential, and as long as I still have ideas for making them better, I'll keep revising. I tend not to have a lot of stories in my head waiting to be written, but I certainly have lots of ideas about the ones I'm working on.

KV: A few years ago, your wife wood-burned an Isaac Asimov quote on a pencil: "I write for the same reason I breathe--because if I didn't, I would die." What do those words mean to you?

BS: I won't literally die without writing, but if I go too long without working on a novel, it feels like I'm dying. I feel directionless. Life seems futile. I think I was born to write stories. (It's probably pathological.)

Writing is also my preferred method of communication with myself. I write notes--a lot--to help me figure things out. My day job is technical writing, so I do a lot of less-creative writing, too. (Engineers occasionally comment about how awful my job seems to them. And I'm always like "Right back at ya!")

You know, I guess I don't know that I wouldn't literally die, because I've never actually stopped writing. Hmm.

KV: What are you working on now?

BS: I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I'm still working on DRIVERS. After The Writer's Voice and querying about fifty agents, I set it aside and wrote another novel, THE FREEZER, which was difficult to write and took much longer. (No luck getting an agent there, either.) Then I started a middle grade novel, but couldn't get momentum. Then I started another sci-fi novel, which I love and intend to finish.

But last year when I opened DRIVERS and read the entire thing--I still loved it. That's got to count for something. I knew if I were to give it another go, I'd need some fresh eyes and ideas. So I swallowed my pride and gave everyone at work and all my Facebook friends the chance to read it. And I got some good feedback. Then one of my coworkers approached me about starting a writing group, and we've been workshopping DRIVERS a chapter at a time.

Now I'm working on some exciting changes to the setting, the ending, and the secondary characters, including (wait for it) making one of the drivers an investigative reporter. I'm also bringing in other motivations for the drivers, because there are many reasons to put oneself in mortal danger. I'm not sticking slavishly to my depression metaphor anymore, and I think the story is better for it.

KV: Any last words of advice or encouragement you'd like to share with us?

BS: My daughter is my role model when it comes to writing. She reads voraciously and writes prodigiously. As much as I profess to love reading and writing, I don't do either very much. She spends a good chunk of her free time (and more of her non-free time than I'd like) reading and writing. And you know what? She's really good at both of them. Once she learns to revise, she'll write better than I do.

I guess I'm saying that the standard advice about writing is good advice. I'm trying to take it and fit writing into my day wherever I can--even if I have to give up some precious sleep.

Thank you for your honesty and authenticity, Ben. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has grown and will grow from the words you add to the world.

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Mr. Taylor Has Picked His Winner


Mr. Taylor would like to read your full, so please send it to him at brent(at)triadaus(dot)com. Fingers crossed!

Thank you to our awesome agent for his helpful feedback and to everyone who entered, commented, or participated in any way. You guys are pretty great.

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

"An Agent's Inbox" Returns!

Check out the entries below, then leave some feedback in the comments if you feel so inclined. (ENTRANTS, PLEASE REMEMBER TO CRITIQUE AT LEAST THREE OTHER ENTRIES!) And I'm sure this goes without saying, but please keep your comments constructive (i.e., not rude or mean-spirited). If you want to think like The Agent, you might consider the question, "How much of the entry did you read, and if you didn't read it all, why did you stop?"

I'll announce Mr. Taylor's winners and prizes at the beginning of next week, but until then, have at it!

(Also, just so you're aware, I always take out profanity when I'm formatting the entries. In other words, any asterisks you see in the entries are mine, so you don't need to point them out to the entrants. I just prefer to keep things as PG-rated as possible on the blog.

Last but not least, entrants, if you find a Krista-generated error in your post, feel free to shoot me an e-mail, and I'll correct it straightaway.)

An Agent's Inbox #21

Dear Mr. Taylor,

I read in your 2016 #MSWL that you're looking for YA Fantasy with powerful and searing voice. With that in mind, I'd love for you to take a look at my YA fantasy novel, BLOOD OF ASGARD.

Most teens spend their high school years trying to fit in, Raven spends hers trying not to kill anyone...again.

With an uncontrollable power to manipulate the elements through her emotions, seventeen-year-old Raven Lundberg has worked hard to feel, well, nothing. Her only comforts are vacations spent in Norway with her mom and grandma.

But when Grandma goes missing and Mom literally fades to nothing before her eyes, Raven learns the impossible: her family’s disappearance is the first sign of Ragnarok, signaling the end of the world. Now she must travel back in time to the brutal Viking Era to save her ancestor and stop Loki, the trickster god, from invoking the other events of Ragnarok.

When her ancestor’s Viking village is attacked by The Midgard Serpent, Raven must team up with the local blacksmith, Kol, to set a trap and kill the beast. The more time Raven spends with Kol, the more torn she is about going back to her own time when her mission is over. But in the world of the Norse, the line between hero and villain is much more muddled than she ever realized, and although Raven is willing to die to save her family, her life may not be the only one she must sacrifice if she’s going to save the world.

BLOOD OF ASGARD, complete at 86,000 words, will appeal to the many fans of the hit show Vikings and Rick Riordan’s newest series, MAGNUS CHASE.

I live in Chandler, Arizona, with my husband, four kids, two dogs, and cat. I’m a member of the American Night Writer’s Association and have served on the board of directors and as conference committee chair. With a passion for history and archeology, I traveled to Norway for the research of this novel.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



Chapter 1: Huginn & Muninn

When I was thirteen, I killed a man with a lightning strike. That’s when I knew I was different, and dangerous. Since then I’ve made changes to keep everyone around me safe, because if I allow myself to feel--to get worked up and emotional--bad things happen.

So, today, like always, I sit in the center of the crowded lunch room, feeling utterly alone. The combined smells of various different foods and teenage bodies in one area turns my hunger to nausea. I pick at my apple with no intentions of eating it. Loud conversations echo off the linoleum floors: a white noise of high school gossip interrupted only by the occasional bark of laughter. I know everyone’s name and they know mine. I eat with them at lunch, see them in class, exchange smiles, and sometimes even the occasional small talk, but that’s the most I can offer. Because there is no place more full of drama than high school, and with drama comes heightened emotions, which for me, equals danger. High school is basically the worst place for me to be.

A hand waves in front of my face. It has orange cheese bits stuck to the finger tips and smells like Cheetos. “Raven! Hel-lo, earth to Raven,” Sarah from my math class says from beside me. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

I usually get through lunch with only a few hi’s and how are you’s.

An Agent's Inbox #20

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Being tortured is just another day for Brynlee Williams.

When sixteen-year-old Brynlee got sent to the Pit as punishment for criticizing the Lords to their face, she never thought brutal interrogation would be part of that castigation. But there she was, trapped under the correctional institution she was sent to for creating chaos at the annual Lords Parade, being asked about a resistance she knows nothing about, and wondering if she’ll ever see the sun again. But when said rebels free the institution, Brynlee joins them without a second thought. After all, any chance of getting rid of the Lords is anything she can get behind.

Brynlee immediately join ranks with them and is trained by the infuriatingly calm Travis Hawley, the resistance’s top-ranked soldier. But when her first rescue operation sends her back home, Brynlee gets the worst news of her life in the form of discovering that her family was killed by order of the Lords in penance for her joining the resistance. But Brynlee has no time to grieve. She teams up with a group of genetically altered kids called the Genesis Projects and, together, they work to liberate the institutions where kids are being held for treasonous acts against the Lords. But the Lords beat them to the institutions and destroy them before they can even reach them.

During one of these missions, Brynlee loses her only friend and, in the same day, is given the news that her brother is still alive but being held prisoner in the Lords Tower in the Capital City. After she’s told that the rebels have no intention of saving him, Brynlee and Travis devise their own plan to get him. But before they find him, Brynlee is captured by the leader of the Genesis Council and is faced with the choice of being either experimented on or facing her execution, so she makes a decision that will change her entire life as she knows it.

CAGED is a young adult science fiction novel completed at 69,000 words with series potential.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



The Pit was the worst place to end up. Anyone who had ever been thrown in it usually came out either insane or dead. I planned on being neither.

Six months ago, my friends and I were shipped to a correctional institution for treasonous children. Anyone between the ages of eight to seventeen got shipped there if they were considered traitors.
I was thrown in the Pit four months ago when the leaders of our country did their annual visit to the school. I had said some rather choice words and was immediately seized and thrown down there.

The Pit wasn’t some massive hole under the institution. Well, it was and it wasn’t.

There were no windows and no lights. It was a labyrinth of cells, all six feet long and four feet wide. They were big enough for a small cot and a toilet. The walls and floors were made of stone that were always wet. Where the water came from, I couldn’t say. It was just always there.

The only time I saw light was when a Guard brought me food. Occasionally, I got treated to a whole room full of light when they dragged me from my cell and hauled to me a room where they tried to get information out of me. But I had nothing to tell them even if I wanted to. No matter how many times I screamed that I knew nothing, they didn’t hear it.

An Agent's Inbox #19

Dear Mr. Taylor,

I have read that you are interested in stories about "finding [one's] place in the world" and SO MUCH MORE THAN EVERYTHING, a coming of age YA novel, complete at 92,000 words, is this kind of book.

Sixteen-year-old Alice Burton loves school, lacrosse and her two best friends (who can’t stand each other). But when her mother, a wannabe health-food guru, concocts a diet shake that may be more than a fad, Alice surprises everyone by shedding her lingering baby fat to reveal an eye-catching body that changes everything. On one hand, her dad, a local celebrity radio personality, keeps telling her to cover-up. On the other hand, she doesn’t mind hot, twenty-something Chris Thompson taking notice. The intensity of her desire to be with Chris, preferably naked, is new to her. She doesn’t have long to process these feelings before she discovers that her dad has gambled away the tuition for her beloved private school. Devastated by this betrayal but distracted by thoughts of Chris, Alice’s life is further complicated when she realizes her education is now dependent on the generosity of a friend of her father’s, a lecherous major league baseball player. Alienated from her family and her friends, Alice must find a way to protect her body, her tuition money, her future and her heart.

SO MUCH MORE THAN EVERYTHING deals with body image, celebrity culture before paparazzi, and unrequited love that isn’t what it seems. Set in the 1990s Pittsburgh rock-and-roll bar scene, it’s the forbidden attraction of Dirty Dancing mixed with a heavy dose of The Smith’s brooding introspection. Reminiscent of Blake Nelson’s GIRL and DREAM SCHOOL, SO MUCH MORE THAN EVERYTHING explores the complexities that arise when the adult male gaze shifts a young girl’s perception of herself and the world around her.

This is my first novel. I have a degree in English from George Mason University and I majored in Fiction Writing at the Pennsylvania Governor's School for the Arts. When I’m not writing, I work in the admission office of a private school where I talk to high school students every day about books they love and issues that are important to them.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



JUNE, 1992
Monday – 9:18 a.m.

“He’s been looking for you,” one of the secretaries says.

I’ve just stepped into the lobby of the radio station and a blast of cold air hits me from the AC. I can’t remember her name, and how can I be expected to? She is alone behind the desk, which is odd, because there’s a usually a coven of them: frosted hair and teased bangs, fishnet tops layered over lace camis, and acid washed jeans skirts left over from the 80s. They take the job hoping they’ll get promoted to DJ, but quit when they can no longer stomach the lewd comments from the actual DJs. I can’t keep the receptionists straight, but they all know who I am: Station Manager Dennis Burton’s daughter.

“Thanks,” I say, with an eye roll, which isn’t directed at her, though she probably thinks it is. I should stop and chat so she doesn’t think I’m a b****, but she’ll probably be gone by the end of the week. And I am 18 minutes late. If I weren’t the boss’ daughter and if this weren’t the 150th(ish) summer I was “working” at the station, it would be a fire-able offense in my dad’s eyes. So I scoot past the reception desk and head towards my dad’s office at the back of the floor. The desks that take up nearly every square inch of the main area are strangely sparsely populated for this time of day.

An Agent's Inbox #18

Dear Mr. Taylor,

In the summer of 1914, seven year old Ruchel and her siblings lead a poor but happy life on the far eastern edge of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, but as World War 1 begins, her father is forcibly drafted into the Austrian Army. Three days later, the Russian Army invades, leaving her and her family far behind enemy lines. To survive, they take jobs in a canteen cooking for the occupying Russian soldiers. One of the officers’ pastimes is playing chess. Ruchel learns the game from watching them. When the soldiers leave to join the rest of the army fighting the Germans to the north, the family converts the canteen into a restaurant, hoping to stay in business by catering to the locals.

Unfortunately, the Ukrainians and the Poles don’t particularly like Jews, and the other Jews fear being near anything once associated with the hated Russian Army. So even though her mother is an excellent cook, business is terrible until Ruchel challenges and defeats a customer in a chess match. Local chess players start coming to play her, others come just to see her play and beat much older men. Slowly, the family’s fortunes begin to improve, but then the Austrian Army marches back in, soon to be followed by the Russian counterattack. As each side repeatedly conquers their homeland, Ruchel and her family find themselves in a desperate battle for survival as food becomes so scarce they are eventually forced to hunt rats.

Finally, as the Central Powers collapse, civil war rages across the territory as both the Ukrainians and Poles battle for control, with both sides attacking their Jewish population. Gambling on a chance to leave, the family will bet their life savings against immigration papers on Ruchel beating a Polish chess champion.

The Chess Girl is a 66,000 word middle grade historical novel based on my Grandmother’s life growing up in what is now part of the Ukraine. While a novel, it is interwoven with the family history of how she and her siblings survived WW1, and how all but one of them eventually escaped to the United States before the Holocaust.

Below are the first 250 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.



Chapter 1: The Final Match

Ruchel’s opponent carefully pushed his knight two spaces forward and one space left using the two fingers remaining on his right hand. He nodded to Ruchel as he pulled his hand back. The burned side of his face remained frozen, as did the milky white eye contained within, but the other side of his mouth tried to turn upward.

Once, Ruchel would have felt both pity and horror at his appearance, but she’d seen so many ruined men in the last couple of years. Besides, the stakes were too high. The fat constable by the window kept playing with the holster around his waist, grunting every so often just in case she hadn’t noticed him. “Pig,” she mumbled in Yiddish. She quickly looked away. If he realized what she’d said, it wouldn’t matter who won this game. Fortunately, he was focused on the shopkeeper across the street struggling to remount his store’s smashed in window frame. The smile on his face made her say pig again, but this time only to herself.

The Assistant Secretary to the Deputy Administrator of the Lwow Voivodship stood impolitely close to the playing table just behind her opponent. Occasionally he leaned in close, pretending to peer at the board but really just trying to intimidate her. Even if she did win, would it matter, or would they just be cheated again? She heard a ‘hmm’ further behind her, the priest from the local Eastern Orthodox church. The Rabbi had wisely invited him. The secretary stepped ever so slightly back.

An Agent's Inbox #17

Dear Brent Taylor:

DAMAGED GOODS, a contemporary young adult novel, is complete at 71,000 words.

Sixteen-year-old Justin Marshall has caused trouble for years, but he never expected his father to kick him out of the house.When Justin is sent to live with a grandmother he can’t remember, he vows to escape. Leaving becomes difficult, however, when he realizes that Margaret suffers from dementia and needs his help.

Dad has always been all talk, no action, so Justin is shocked and outraged when he is sent to live with a grandmother he doesn’t remember. Physically deserted by his mother and emotionally abandoned by his father, Justin can’t imagine caring about an old woman. He plans to keep his praying, cussing, Star Wars quoting, cat-loving grandmother at a distance. He is surprised to discover that his usual ways of interacting with adults--brooding, sarcasm, and ridicule--do not bring about the typical reaction from Margaret. His grandmother possesses a healthy sense of humor and a strength that matches his own. She defends him against Dad’s constant criticism, cooks his favorite meals, and shares his love of music. As he begins to bond with Margaret, however, he realizes that she suffers from dementia. Justin knows that if people in her small southwest Oklahoma town discover her impaired memory, he will be unable to stay with her. As her illness progresses, keeping her memory loss a secret becomes increasingly difficult, and his patience and problem-solving abilities are challenged. Justin must decide whether to run from the situation or take care of his grandmother.

I have been writing for most of my life, and my stories, poems, and essays have been published in over twenty magazines. For a year, I wrote feature articles for a weekly newspaper, and many years ago I published a middle grade novel. After raising three children and enjoying a teaching career, I now write almost exclusively for children. Middle grade and young adult fiction are my strongest interests. I participate in a critique group and I’m an active volunteer in SCBWI.



Blue elastic waist pants cover my grandmother’s flat butt, and her flowered shirt screams Old Lady Special. She’s definitely a Wal-martian, even though I haven’t seen a Wally World since we left the interstate an hour ago. That’s how far we are from civilization.

Wooden steps groan as I follow her up to the porch. I drop my suitcases and backpack onto decaying, splintered boards. A scraggly plant has pushed its way through a crack but now droops with exhaustion near my feet.

When Dad told me I’d be living with his mother, I figured it would be a nice house. Not as big or new as his, maybe, but nice. This looks like the kind of place with a meth lab in the kitchen.

It’s daytime, but a porch light has been left on. One of the glass panes around the bulb is broken. Under it, a faded sign reads “Beware! Guard Cat on Duty.”

My grandmother turns toward me and beams. Her eyes--green like Dad’s--study me through red framed glasses. “Welcome to Meow Manor, Justin.”

Her laugh is almost a cackle. A chill creeps over me, even though it’s warm for October and I’m wearing a hoodie.

I can’t live in a shack in Red Dirt, Oklahoma with an old woman I don’t remember. I’ve got to get out of here.

While my grandmother digs in her supersized red purse and mutters about keys, I check out other houses on the block.

An Agent's Inbox #16

Dear Mr. Taylor:

I am seeking representation for Three Drops of Magic, my 21,000 word, middle grade fantasy, and would appreciate your consideration.

Lucy Rose Hay is an orphan. Or is she? It's true that she lives at the Ayrshire Orphanage for boys and girls. It's true that her mother is deceased. It's true that in eleven years, no one has inquired after her. But the slim folder that contains Lucy's records holds one blank page: her father's. And Lucy is certain that he lives.

One extraordinary evening, Lucy meets a fairy child who promises to share knowledge of her father in exchange for silver coins. What follows is a tale of magic, mischief, and adventure as Lucy, with the unwitting help of a boy named Miles, travels to a fantastical land where the histories of all mortals are guarded in the Timekeeper's palace. But the fairy child soon vanishes, and Lucy and Miles find themselves alone in a world both astonishing and perilous.

I am a graduate of Washington State University and this is my second completed middle grade novel.

Thank you for your time.



That August evening, when she first saw the fairy, she was crouched beneath the parlor window, oblivious to the bramble thorns scratching her legs, and the darkening sky that would likely bring rain. Peering in through the rippled glass, Lucy's blue eyes widened in astonishment.

More than once she had suspected an intruder in the crumbling stone manor. Her manor, where she had a mother and a father, and occasionally a sister or a brother, but mostly she was a beloved only child. She knew that squirrels sometimes found their way inside, but it seemed to her unlikely that a squirrel could carry her cracked teacup across the room. Or toss her arrangement of violets into the fireplace. She had been prepared to find Miles, or perhaps another child.

But not a fairy. 

Lucy had never imagined a fairy.

She shifted her weight carefully and raised her fist to rub away more dirt.

The fairy child--at least she thought it was a child--stood by the fireplace, still as a statue, one arm draped in the air. She looked absolutely nothing like the beautiful creatures in story books; story book fairies were small and lovely and kind. This fairy had pointed ears and tufts of wispy hair that stuck out from a nearly bald head. Her feet were absurdly long. Her wings, while delicate and brilliantly colored, hung awkwardly between her thin shoulders, and her mouth was set in a grimace, as if she'd eaten a particularly disagreeable supper.

An Agent's Inbox #15

Dear Mr. Taylor,

I'm currently seeking representation for my 96,000 word young-adult sci-fi novel, Deadly Nightshade. Deadly Nightshade may appeal to readers who enjoyed the narrative voice of Tahereh Mafi’s Shatter Me and the moral conflict and speculative aspects of Marvel’s Jessica Jones.

Whenever fifteen-year-old coder Morelle Noire looks into someone’s eyes, she hears a number from one to ten, quantifying the total good or evil in their soul. This makes finding friends complicated--not to mention looking in the mirror. Especially since every time she does, the numbers remind her that she’s the most evil person she has ever met.

When her mother forces her to go to summer camp, all Morelle can do is try to keep her head down and make it home in one piece. Instead, she makes an unexpected friend in Cain Adler, the only person whose number she can’t hear, and witnesses the suspicious suicide of the camp nurse. As Morelle investigates the camp’s questionable history, a fellow camper poisons her with Deadly Nightshade berries, landing Morelle back home in a coma. Once she wakes, Morelle discovers she left camp with not only a near-death experience, but incredible telekinetic abilities. To make matters worse, the very public discovery makes her a wanted weapon.

After news of her powers reaches military ears, Morelle is strong-armed into joining a secret task force, where she’s handed a moral dilemma in the form of a gun and training that enables her to live up to the dark destiny her number imposes. As Morelle grows more powerful, the once simple choice of giving in to or fighting against her number becomes increasingly uncertain. When the program’s director assigns her to a perilous field mission instead of letting her go home, Morelle must take charge of her fate and decide: Will she risk her own life and the lives of those she loves? Or will she take another life and risk becoming the monster she sees when she looks in the mirror?

I’m pursuing a major in English at the University of Washington in Seattle, and have also completed two middle-grade fantasy novels. Deadly Nightshade is the standalone first book in a potential trilogy, and I have outlines for the second and third books.

Thank you for your time, I look forward to hearing from you!



My mom’s last words to me before I leave are “I love you.”

My last words to my mom before I leave are “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

I wonder how long it’ll take for that to haunt me.

Now I’m stepping up the stairs to the bus to summer camp, duffel bag slung across my back, the haze of the last twenty-four hours swimming around my head like a cloud of smoke. I still feel the way my throat stung when I tried to echo the words back to her, the way my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth when I tried to turn an ‘l’ into an ‘ove’; when I couldn’t. I remember the afternoon before, the way it all spun and how the floor fell from my feet when she told me she was sending me away the next morning, “for my own good.”

“It’ll be healthy,” She said. “Spending some time outside, maybe even making some friends.” But I know what she meant. You can’t go on alone like this forever.

I remember what I said, all I could say after the two-minute silence. “Please.” And what I meant. I wasn’t alone until now.

She said she was sorry. She meant that she was not sorry enough.

I look around the back of the bus. The seats are about half full and I don’t recognize any of the faces, although I don’t let myself look long enough for anyone to look back.

An Agent's Inbox #14

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Alistair Toddlefin spends his days playing in the haunted woods near his house, wishing his too-busy parents would notice him, longing for a friend. So when spooky, freckle-faced Lucy Punch appears near his fort in the laurel bushes, he believes she could be the answer to all of his problems.

Ali follows Lucy deep into the forest, to a dark and looming willow tree. There, she pulls back the Curtain of Illusion, revealing a world where children rule. A world of lantern-lit treehouses and endless fun where Ali might finally belong. But soon, something sinister threatens his newfound happiness and thoughts of Ali’s old life begin to fade. He discovers that Lucy’s lost her memories too.

To save himself and his friend, Ali must find a way to take down the Left Behinders--cursed, dark spirits that destroy memories and devour imaginations, feeding on them for survival. If he doesn’t, Ali may never see his parents again, and he and Lucy will remain captive, their minds ensnared by the Left Behinders for eternity.

CHILDREN OF THE WOOD is a spooky, 32,000-word middle grade fantasy that would appeal to fans of A CURIOUS TALE OF THE IN-BETWEEN and SERAFINA AND THE BLACK CLOAK.

I amicably parted ways with my previous agent and am seeking new representation. A previous middle grade project of mine, THE TRINKET GUARDIAN, was a 2015 PitchWars finalist and the winner of the 2016 Pikes Peak Zebulon contest in the MG/YA category. My middle grade fantasy, LAIMA MONTROVE WANTS TO BE A WITCH, was a finalist for the 2015 Eldin Memorial Fellowship, an award to honor Christine Eldin’s memory and recognize talent in unpublished middle grade writers. I’m also currently interning at Inklings Literary.

The CHILDREN OF THE WOOD manuscript is available at your request. It has not yet been in front of any editors. Thanks for your time!



Alistair Toddlefin peered out his bedroom window for the fifteenth time that day. The world was still bleak and gray and sodden, only slightly more interesting than the world inside. He imagined he was a dragon and breathed plumes of fire over the forest, scorching it, burning it to a crisp, forcing his parents to move back to civilization. Then he leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head, resting against the wall behind his bed, admiring his smoke-singed work.

His parents had moved to the crisp Connecticut woods just four months earlier, wanting a break from the effervescent zip of the city, or so they’d said. Ali couldn’t deny the freshness of the air and the soothing trill of spring peepers, but he hadn’t quite gotten used to the loneliness of it all, and he figured he probably never would.

Ali shoved aside a stack of library books and climbed down the ladder of his bunk bed, shaking off the pins and needles. He jumped off the last rung and landed with a thud. If they’d been in the city, he’d have walked himself to a museum or to the iron-gated park around the corner. But here, there was nothing but miles of trees in every direction. No friends. Nothing much to do.

With a quick look down the hall, Ali dusted off his hands. Perhaps someone could take him to see a movie. Anything would be better than another minute trapped indoors, alone.

“Mom,” Ali asked as he rounded the corner and walked into her office.

An Agent's Inbox #13

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Tristen’s dad is missing, her boyfriend is an alien, the cool kids want her dead…and she’s flunked her driver’s test. Who better to save the world from a psychotic extraterrestrial warlord? Different Constellations is a young adult science fiction novel, complete at 112,000 words.

In Creighton Lake, one of the most haunted places in Illinois, a teenage boy wakes up from an accident to find himself in an alien’s body; turns out it was his true form all along. With his human disguise now damaged, he must start his life over as “John.” The same night, in an affluent Chicago suburb three hours away, Tristen’s father disappears, and she and her mother are forced to move to Creighton Lake…where Tristen and John become an item.

But an alien that’s been hunting John’s family for decades has just stolen the body of a government agent, and using the agent’s files, he begins to close in on his marks. When John admits his secret to Tristen, she doesn’t believe him…until she meets the impostor, and realizes she’s the only thing standing between the boy she loves and the thing that wants him dead.

I am a children’s playwright, improvisational comedian and recovering fanfiction writer. Different Constellations is my first novel. I have a platform including a website, a small blog, and a Twitter account with more than 1400 followers. I have also begun publishing a serialized novel on, a subscription-based content service.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



He didn’t feel the restraints until he tried to sit up. He lay on his back on a hard table with straps across his head, torso, arms, and legs. Like Frankenstein, but with a little pillow under his head. How thoughtful.

He twisted, fighting against straps tight enough to immobilize him but not tight enough to hurt. The sight of his grandfather at the bedside filled him with dread. He couldn’t see his body because they’d strapped him to the bed with his chin pointed at the ceiling, leaving him mobility enough to swallow and move his eyes in a wide circle. All he could see was bright lights and smooth, white ceiling. His joints ached and his insides felt frozen. Something pinched the base of his head so tightly it made his eyes water.

“Don’t struggle,” Grandfather said, patting his forehead. His hand that burned against the boy’s icy skin. “We’ll let you up soon. First we have to talk.”

“Why..?” he managed before his throat tightened with panic. His eyes rolled to meet Grandfather’s impassive gaze.

“What’s wrong with my voice?” Had he been in a coma, long enough to miss puberty? What if he looked in the mirror and found a grown man looking back at him? Or worse--an old man?

As his peripheral vision cleared his mother and father came into focus: standing beside the bed, ashen and leaning on one another for support.

An Agent's Inbox #12

Dear Mr. Taylor,

I read in an interview that you enjoyed young adult fantasy. As such, I thought you might enjoy my 85,000 word novel, THE KINGDOM OF AISSUR.

He came from a distant world on the brink of war to bring home the one person who can save them all. But his biggest challenge will be convincing her who she really is.

Chesney lost her parents several years ago and has never gotten over their loss. With no one else to lean on, she has closed herself off from everyone and everything. That all changes when a man, dressed as if he belongs in another century, steps into the diner where she works and sits down in front of her. This man is mysterious and cryptic, yet she feels immediately drawn to him. For the first time since losing her parents, Chesney starts to feel again.

Ivan has come a long way to find Chesney. The King of Aissur sent Ivan to find the infant daughter he hid away in another world for her protection. But now with their world on the eve of war, it is time to bring that child home. Ivan knows Chesney is the key to help them fight an enemy that threatens to destroy their world.

Before Ivan can tell Chesney who she really is, they are attacked by something that followed him from Aissur. His only option to save her is to bring her with him to a world she knows nothing about. After she finally learns the truth and is forced to face off against a dragon, Chesney must decide if she will help fight for a world she barely knows against an unthinkable evil. Or will she let down the people who have quickly become her family?

Though KINGDOM OF AISSUR has been written as a trilogy, it can stand alone. It is my first novel and I am currently working on the sequel. I have pasted the first 250 words below, and would be delighted to send the full manuscript at your request. Thank you very much for your time and consideration.



Chesney never took much notice of the world around her. If she had, she might have noticed the man that had been watching her for three days. And when he walked into Bogey’s Diner where she was working very late one night, she could have been properly alarmed.

Chesney had worked the graveyard shift at Bogey’s for just over six years. She liked the late night hours, and she especially liked never having to deal with the lunch crowds. Chesney was not a fan of large crowds, or large groups, and there were far too many people during the dayshift for her liking. At night the groups were small and sparse. Business was slower at night, but it was also quieter and Bogey’s night time patrons preferred a server who was quiet as well. Chesney was more than happy to oblige them.

The diner had been built in the 60’s and had not been upgraded once in all the years. It looked like any other dinner to come out of that era, rounded corners, lots of windows and aluminum. A neon sign above the door flashed ‘Bogey’s’ orange lights. Inside, booths with faded orange vinyl lined three of the walls and a U-shaped counter stood in the center of the room with matching orange barstools. The counters and floors were dingy from years of stains and cigarette smoke, no matter how many times the place was cleaned. Overall the diner was dingy and dull, but people didn’t come here for the atmosphere, they came for the food, especially the coffee and pie. Which was displayed prominently in glass cases along the bar top.

An Agent's Inbox #11

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Your recent MG sale, Call Me Sunflower, seems to explore some of the same family dynamics as my MG manuscript, Phoebe Fogg and the Chronos Apparatus.

Set in 1903 Boston, the story follows eleven-year-old inventress Phoebe Fogg, who is desperate to stay with her adventuring father. When she finds Benjamin Franklin’s old journal and reads an entry about freezing time, she’s convinced his device is the key to solving her problems. Using Franklin’s invention, she stows away on her father’s airship. When she’s discovered, Phoebe and her father are forced to face what happened on the family’s terrifying last archaeology expedition. Throughout the story, flashbacks gradually reveal that Phoebe’s mother was swept away by the 1900 Galveston hurricane.

Phoebe Fogg and the Chronos Apparatus is complete at 35,000 words. It will appeal to readers who enjoyed The Invention of Hugo Cabaret and will go on to read Kenneth Oppel, Scott Westerfeld and Gail Carriger. The story was somewhat inspired by Jules Verne’s Around the World in 80 Days, and makes several nods to that classic novel. The manuscript is written as a stand-alone story, but has series potential.

Andrew Harwell of Harper Collins critiqued the opening pages at a past Oklahoma SCBWI conference. He found the premise intriguing and requested the manuscript. I explained that I needed to make revisions and perhaps secure representation before submitting to an editor, which he agreed was the best plan. The opening pages also earned me a finalist spot for the Cynthia Leitich Smith Mentor Award at the Austin SCBWI conference the same year. A work-for-hire project delayed my progress on this manuscript until recently.

In 2011, I completed an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults at Vermont College of Fine Arts. In 2014, my first nonfiction book, Art of the Oklahoma Judicial Center, was published and my second nonfiction book, Frontiers of Healing: A History of Medicine in Oklahoma, just shipped. These books drew on my background as a journalist, but I hope to move my writing career in a different direction. This manuscript reflects my true passion of writing books that will inspire and excite young readers.

I hope you will be captivated by Phoebe’s adventures. As per your submission policy, I have pasted the first 250 words of the manuscript below. I look forward to hearing from you.



Phoebe Fogg paused at the radiator before fetching a footstool. Certainly the heating pipes would transport her father’s conversation with Aunt Catherine to the study. The stool’s cushion boasted a prime example of those “feminine arts” her aunt always praised: a needlepoint explosion of flower blossoms bursting forth in tiny knots. After arranging her pesky petticoats, Phoebe took great joy in planting her derriere on the petunias.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the task at hand. Sounds drifted in from the dining room, but the words ran together. Was that her father or Aunt Catherine? Concentrating to sort the voices, she nearly fell off the footstool when a hand touched her shoulder.

“Shattered sockets, Paul! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Her cousin’s face twisted into a grin as he apologized. He wasn’t a complete popinjay, though he was dressed a bit like one. With his fencing jacket and rapier, he looked ready to battle Captain Hook. Light glinted off the silver buttons racing down his shoulder from his high collar.

“What are you listening to?” He sliced his blade through the air, making a hissing sound.

“Jasper and Aunt Catherine. Trying to at least.” She pointed to the radiator register.

Phoebe shushed him, straining to hear. “I can’t tell if that’s Jasper speaking.”

“Mother says you shouldn’t call him that.”

She rolled her dark eyes at her cousin. “Lots of people have nicknames for their fathers: daddy, papa. Mine just happens to be his actual name.”

An Agent's Inbox #10

Dear Brent,

Rae July Watters wants many things--her mom’s attention, her sister’s trust, a reunion with the basketball shorts she was persuaded to retire--but most of all, she wants the seventh grade staff writer position on the school newspaper. To secure the job, she needs one slam dunk story.

Seeking inspiration in her mom’s art studio, Rae unearths a journal dated 1983, but it’s full of mush about her mom’s childhood crush, not newsworthy scandal. That is, until she finds the address of a now-defunct religious boarding school scrawled in the back.

Rae orchestrates a secret road trip to the tiny Texas town where her mom grew up. Her investigation reveals a decades-old family secret that challenges everything she once believed about faith, family, and the pursuit of facts.

Rae’s confident she can meet her deadline and prove herself as a journalist, but whether she can do it without betraying the trust of everyone she loves is another story.

THE COUNTLESS THREADS OF RAE JULY is a contemporary realistic Middle Grade complete at 58,000 words. GOODBYE, STRANGER meets A SNICKER OF MAGIC as Rae strives to find her voice in the world and on the page.

I understand that you’re interested in both literary Middle Grade, as well as realistic stories with complicated friendships and “bumbling” romance; for these reasons among others, I am excited to offer my manuscript for your consideration. I am a former sixth grade teacher and have had personal essays published in the Harvard Educational Review, as well as a smaller literary journal.

Thank you for your time.



The last time I wore a skirt someone died. I put one on to visit Dad’s Aunt Ethel who was sick with pneumonia and by the time we got to her house, there were ambulances in the driveway. Aunt Ethel was fine but her neighbor, Mr. Weatherwood, was not.

Needless to say, I had mixed feelings walking through the doors of Lamar Middle School in a black cotton skirt and grey Beatles tee. But when your sister is sixteen and gorgeous, and tells you to wear a skirt “because only twelve-year-old boys wear basketball shorts and not the cool ones,” you tuck your blue mesh gently into the back of your sock drawer and hope for the best.

The first day of seventh grade was a whole lot like the first day of any other grade, which is to say we did a whole lot of nothing. It was brutal for a half-day, but after three excruciating hours of icebreakers and a sloppy Sloppy Joe lunch, it was at least almost done.

Finally, at twelve-oh-five sharp, I entered my first Newspaper Club meeting. Electives would normally be last period, but someone had the right idea squeezing them into the first day schedule. It felt like reaching the surface after sitting too long at the bottom of a pool: my heart raced, my fingers felt pruney, but I could breathe.

I figured eleven of the people lounging around the table were eighth-graders.

An Agent's Inbox #9

Dear Brent Taylor,

I am excited to present to you my debut novel Watcher. Watcher is a 72,000 word YA sci-fi fantasy book that is a mix of Terminator and the Clone Wars in a futuristic dystopian world.

10 years after the Bots and Carbons turned on what's left of humanity, there are a few still left fighting to keep what remains of the human race alive. Sawyer Russo is one of those people. She's the only female Watcher, and one of the best. Sawyer’s world is turned upside down when the Carbons start to pick them off one by one. Forced into a lockdown, she is asked to train the new guy Kenzie, but he may not be what he seems, and soon she realized everything she thought she knew and everyone she trusted may have all been a lie. It’s up to her to save what's left of humanity.

I am a debut author with a passion for young adult books. A Health and Wellness Coordinator by day, I spend the majority of my free time reading, writing, reviewing and seeing as many movies as humanly possible. This is my first novel, but I am active in social media through @watcherbook which has generated over 1000 followers in less than a month. I also write a book blog reviewing anything YA as well as sharing my own writing experience (

Below I have provided the first 250 words of my novel.



I sit perched on the edge of a rooftop high above the boulevards below. The ruined city, once a place I called home, is now nothing more than a pile of rubble thanks to the Bots and Carbons roaming the streets. Buildings have been torn to pieces leaving gaping holes in those that still stand, uninhabited but for a few survivors. This is not a livable place, not the refuge I knew ten years ago, but it is my reality now. My eyes scan over the dark metropolis. Quiet and cold as it always is, but I know I am not alone.

I am invisible to those below me, but I see them. I see them all thanks to Adam. He was a scientist with a fascination for Robotics before the war broke out.

Once we managed to capture one of them, we took it apart and Adam went to work. He invented “The Eye,” a small glass lens worn over our right eye so we can see up to ten miles away. We can detect Bots and Carbons through The Eye because they light up bright green on the tiny lens. No matter how human-like the Carbons may look, they all have one flaw; a microchip at the base of their skull. They are carbon copies of us, hence the nickname, but despite their obvious human appearance, they are not of us. They are the deadliest foe mankind has ever known.

I see six Bots below me now.

An Agent's Inbox #8

Dear Mr. Brent Taylor,

Sixteen-year-old Evelyn Wolfsfeld always dreamed of traveling to England, but becoming entangled in the decades-old curse her father recently died for wasn’t what she envisioned. As a Curse Artisan herself, Evelyn always knew her father held a wicked power, but she never thought him capable of enacting a blood curse.

Throwing scandal and propriety to the wind, she delves into an investigation of her father's mysterious murder. Even if it means sneaking out of her house armed only with a small bag and the tailor’s son, Connor.

Following clues that lead her to the darkest parts of London, she begins her search for the only killer she's aware of: The London Assassins. But they're not her biggest threat. Deep in the shadows hides a group of cursed ruffians intent on revenge.

When a mysterious connection between Evelyn and the leader of the assassins arises, they offer their help, but she has doubts about trusting killers for hire. From London’s East End to Newgate Prison, Evelyn and the assassins must scour the city for a different cure before she becomes the curse’s next victim.

A CURSE MOST WICKED is a Young Adult Fantasy set in 1858, complete at 75,000 words. Though written as a standalone, it has series potential. Thank you for your time and consideration.



London, 1858

I should feel guilty, but I don’t. People send curious glances my way, taking in my solemn appearance and lack of a chaperon. It doesn't bother me. When they turn into whispers as they realize there is a boy with me, and I’m not wearing a wedding ring, I couldn't care less. Leaving my mother in New York City bothers me, but not for the reasons it should. My reputation is the last thing I’m concerned about. Not when I’m here to find a killer.

“Evelyn, we’re nearly there," my friend, Connor, says as he stares at the approaching docks. Pent up with anticipation, my fellow passengers move towards the railing, pushing him closer to me. “Too bad your powers can’t pinpoint where they’re hiding.”

I flash him a wry smile. "You know my magic doesn't work like that.” However, I am tempted to curse the crowd into thinking there’s a sudden rat infestation so they’ll stop jostling Connor and I around, threatening to separate us. On second thought, I’d prefer not to be trampled. I only have one gown.

“People hire them all the time, right?” Connor says, bumping into my shoulder. He flashes an apologetic smile after stepping on my skirts. “I mean, they’re assassins. I know you’re desperate to find his killer, but they can’t be too hard to find.”

That’s only half the battle. They may be the true murderers, but they're not the ones who wanted my father dead. To them it’s simply business.

An Agent's Inbox #7

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Those who meet fifteen-year-old Amira Starrling call her quiet and gentle, but Amira can use her psionic abilities to shatter trees.

Psionics take years of practice to manage, and it’s an understatement to say Amira's are unpredictable. If you consider her neighbor’s shuttle--still wrapped around a pole from the last time she lost control--she borders on dangerous. While her backwater, outer-rim planet is a safe place to hone her skills, she’s not learning to manage them. When she’s invited to attend KungorumAcademy, an elite school for the training of galactic citizens with similar abilities, Amira’s determined to use this experience to finally gain control.

But on Amira’s first day, a deep-space shuttle crashes into her classroom, bringing with it an alien only she can see. Desperate to eliminate Amira before she stops it, the alien targets her mind. After she fights the creature off, it resorts to using other students it can control against her. Amira loses control of her abilities and destroys anentire floor of an Academy building when her friends are forced to fight her and each other. While her actions nearly get her expelled, she at least freed her friends and eliminated the creature.

Or so she thinks. But the alien escapes, and now Amira hunts for clues that will reveal what the shadowy intruder is really after at Kungorum. Amira must stop it. Because if she’s sent home, she risks losing herself to her powers, and the creature will be free to release its ancient brethren and drag the galaxy into war once again.

STARRLING is a YA Science Fiction novel of 70,000 words. It is a stand-alone title, but planned as the first of a series. I have a short story titled ELLA published in the online magazine FAR HORIZONS.

I am a strong believer in diversity in everything I create. So I make sure a varied range of human races and sexual orientations exist throughout STARRLING including within the main characters’ group. The main character, Amira, is of East Indian descent if such a place existed in the story’s universe.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



Amira Starrling sat on a small hill and watched the sun slowly drop behind the distant mountains. Before them yellow fields of grain swayed gently in the late evening breeze like ocean waves lapping at a shore. The sky had turned purple as twin moons rose up over the horizon behind her.

Drawing a deep breath Amira held her hand open before her, letting the small stone roll still in her palm. Staring at the rock she focused her mind and willed it to lift freely into the air. A simple enough task she did not normally have problems doing.

Slowly the stone twitched then lifted a few inches above her palm. Amira smiled and took another deep breath, increasing her focus. Straining her mind, the rock started to shake and rotate, quicker and quicker until it exploded into a cloud of dust.

Amira gradually un-scrunched her eyes and turned to look back at her hand. She coughed and waved the dust cloud from her face before brushing off her clothes. With a heavy sigh she dropped back onto the side of the small hill overlooking her grandparents’ farm. The stars blinked to life and the sky-elevator’s lights lit up as the planet turned and the sun retreated further away.

Boxy super-haulers drifted about the edge of the sky, waiting their turn to dock with the station at the top of the elevator. They, like all larger star faring ships, could not land planet-side and still be able to fight against their own weight to take off again.

An Agent's Inbox #6

To Mr. Brent Taylor:

Believed to be a dark omen by her own people, Crysta grew up under a medieval cloud of suspicion. They whisper because she is the first princess in five centuries born without the elemental powers of her ancestors. When she discovers her aunt plotting to kill her and take the kingdom even that uncertain world collapses.

Crysta's bad habit of eavesdropping has landed her in hot water for the last time. Her aunt wants the throne and will destroy anything, maybe everything, in her path. When she delves recklessly into the black arts, the foundations of their world crumble in a battle between good and evil no one can possibly win. A spell is cast to protect the survivors, and Crysta disappears from time.

Reborn centuries later, this medieval princess is stuck in the modern world with no memory of her past existence. The life she knows is a lie, but this eighteen year old sceptic needs more than a new-to-town stranger and a plea for help to convince her. After all, everyone knows magic isn't real.

Another elemental war is brewing, and someone just sent it to her doorstep. Assassin spells and dark magic make for an awkward start to senior year. Big Bad wants Crysta in the ground, and no one will tell her why. When family and friends get caught in the crossfire of her deadly, new life, she'll need to decide if throwing in the towel might be a better choice than trying to save the world. And she just might be willing to skip out on her oh-so-magical destiny.

CHILDREN OF AVALON is a Young Adult Fantasy complete at 60,000 words. SKY HIGH meets GAME OF THRONES in this parallel world's coming of age story where swords are the newest fashion accessory, and magic isn't something from a fairy tale.

For the past several years, my focus has been creative writing as a member of Ozark Writers League, Twin Lakes Writers, and Ozark Creative Writers and Illustrators. I have won several regional awards during this time. I also maintain a professional online presence with Facebook, LinkedIn, and Twitter and work as a mentor for a teen writing group.

Thank you for your consideration of my work, and I hope to hear from you soon.



The wind tore around them as horse and rider flew toward the tree line. Each pounding hoof beat of her mount echoed in Crystianna's ears and thudded through her chest. Grass and the warm scents of summer filled the air.

She glanced back and saw her brother, Damien, bent low over his saddle, a white mane flying across his angular face. Devilish eyes met her glance with a challenging gleam.

Clouds of dust and dirt drew her eye to the thundering mass of wild horses coming up behind them. Damien's grin spread. He had whipped the beautiful creatures into a frenzy, daring her to race with them across the open fields. And like all their mischief, he never had to dare for long.

She leaned forward to whisper encouragement in Starlight's ear, following the powerful motion as her horse ran. They shot forward in a burst of speed--perfectly attuned since the magnificent animal had been given to Crystianna for her ninth birthday. Her father always said the filly's beautiful white coat reminded him of his daughter's bright smile.

She laughed, delighted, when Damien fell behind. Then, Starlight lurched, broke stride, and plunged. Momentum pulled her from the saddle with a frightened scream.

She pitched forward, the ground rushing to meet her. After one hard bounce, the bite of dirt coated her tongue while she lay choking for air. Dull aches screamed along her shoulder and side, but the sound of thundering hoof beats brought her back to reality with a jerk.