Well, the votes for what-contest-we-should-have are in, and it’s official: you all want me dead. Er. You want to have a first page content. I was never good at math, but let’s see… 1 page x 500+ entries = hmm… carry the one… equals… well, multiple organ failure if I’ve calculated correctly. So tune in next week for that! Just to recap, we’ve had a title contest, then a first line contest, then first paragraph, now first page. At this rate we’ll have a “first three finished manuscripts” contest before the year is out. Rules, regulations, and hyperbolic title will be posted on Monday. It’s gonna be fun!
Meanwhile, in publishing:
OMG, my bff reader Diana Williams sent me dis article from da Times re cell phone novels n Japan. Thr ttly kool. LMAO! N e body like em? TTYL
The Wall Street Journal went on a hunt across the globe for DA VINCI CODE AUTHOR Dan Brown’s next novel. The verdict: unknown. Also no albinos. But they did interview the grand master of the Grand Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons of the District of Columbia. How’s THAT for thorough?
Reader Christina Parker sent me a link to an article on the website bookcrossing.com, in which people drop books off in random places and then track them on the website to see where they’ve been. Apparently 625,000 people in 145 countries have signed on, and there are all kinds of maps and things like that. The techie part of me thinks: cool! The agent part of me thinks: the poor authors don’t get royalties when the same book is read 20 times. And that’s kind of a shame.
Via GalleyCat, author A.L. Kennedy has won the Costa Award (formerly known as the Whitbread). Given the number of awards that are being announced this month I’m sure I’m missing some, so if I haven’t mentioned it: congratulations!
And finally, Sacramento Kings fans know Bob Delaney as one of the three referees on the court during Game 6 of the Western Conference Finals in 2002, when the Kings were SO COMPLETELY OBVIOUSLY JOBBED by the refs that Ralph Nader of all people sent a letter to the NBA urging them to review their refereeing policies. Think I’m kidding? Click here . Hmph. Where was I? Oh, Bob Delaney has a book coming out! You see, way before he was a ref, Bob Delaney was an undercover informant who infiltrated the mob. Crazy, right? I guess I’ll forgive him. Someday.
Have a great weekend!
Heidi the Hick says
OH MY GOSH!!!!
I just read over my first page. The one I thought was reeeeeally good, a little bit funny, great voice… that one. The one I sent out to a few agents last fall.
Sure it’s got a great voice, but I just realized something.
It’s a whole page of disgruntled teenage whining.
OH NO! Less whining, more action! I’ve got an hour to do a rewrite!
Wow. Just so you know, I’m totally serious- I’m not being sarcastic.
Sometimes it takes a jolt like this upcoming contest to make me realize that I have more work to do.
(thanks!)
Travis Erwin says
You better stock up at he liquor store now. You’re going to need it.
Heidi the Hick says
I
am
ready.
Lee says
Here’s my first 500 of my first page.
MONOPOLY
By Lee P. Mandel
The small puddle on the indigo Italian tile floor reflected the motionless swan etched on the glass shower door. Her long alabaster arm reached out to grab the large towel from the sink’s edge. Wrapping the plush blue terrycloth around her wet body, she extended her foot to mop the floor with the bathmat. The steam from the shower dissipated into the air, allowing the adjacent room to become visible through the partially open door. The sheer bedroom curtains danced about wildly in the summer breeze. Funny, I don’t remember leaving the window open, she thought..
Passing it off to her own insecurity and shrugging the feeling off, she returned to her post-bath ritual. The soft cotton of her nightgown clung to her newly moisturized body. The long strands of her chestnut hair moved with the motion of the brush. Finally, she approved her reflection and headed for the bedroom. Once again her eyes were drawn to the movement of the curtains.
Carefully walking toward the window, she scanned the room. The curtains momentarily fluttered to a slow halt. Walking over to the opened window, she placed her hand on the sill and peered out into the night. Only the pink and white flowered Azaela bushes napped quietly against the house, waiting for the next morning’s sun to wake them. It’s just my imagination.
She turned and noticed a change in the room. The telephone was missing from her bedside table. She looked around to locate it but instead felt a sharp pain in her neck. Her hands reacted and reached for her throat. Her fingers clutched at a wire pulling from behind. Pawing at her neck, she tried to release the noose. Shifting and wriggling her body, she fought to break free. She gasped for air as a scene from her childhood entered her mind. She was playing in the snow, and then…she was still.
The silver, two-door Toyota hugged the road as it climbed up the private road leaving the main boulevard behind. The trees lined up and guarding either side of the road were in full bloom. At the top of the hill, it appeared that the parking area was directly in front of the large house. It was crowded with police vehicles. The only space available was at the far end.
Rachel shifted the car into park. She checked her makeup in the rear view mirror, making sure her lipstick was presentable, and ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to be less disheveled. As she extended her left leg from the car, she took a quick visual inventory of the grounds.
The deep green grass matched the perfectly manicured shrubs. The house was painted a pure white stucco with wrought iron cages on the lower windows. Rachel decided it was more for aesthetics than protection. A slight breeze caused the trees to sway, allowing the sunlight to pass through the flickering leaves, making it appear as if there was a screen of lace…
Hope you liked it enough to get me to the next round.
Lee Mandel
dragonluvr2@msn.com