After Storymakers

Have you ever attended an event so wonderful that the crash of reality leaves you longing? Yeah? Me too.

I’ve attended the LDStorymakers conference the past few years and this year’s conference was the best. When I say the best, I mean it was better by a grand margin. The other conferences didn’t even come close. Okay, I’m sure I’m exaggerating—but it was a great conference. In fact, I’m getting all tingly just writing about it.

The classes were fabulous. I found myself undecided at times as to which course to take, because there were so many good ones, and was always pleased with the information given. It was as if the speakers had prepared topics that I needed to hear and learn from right now—like they knew what I was looking for. And they delivered. Again, fabulous.

One highlight from this year was the writer’s boot camp. I’m been focusing lately on getting back to basics, working on the craft of great storytelling, and signed up for the boot camp to get fresh perspective. I am so glad that I did. It was a wonderful experience and opened my eyes to a few things I’m missing in my writing.

Then there was Anne Perry. (Excuse me for a moment while I sigh with elation.) Anne Perry. I didn’t know who she was before the conference, but now I’m a fan. She was fantastic. I’ve never learned so much from a writer before. She is a master. Her words opened my eyes to concepts I never dreamed could be applied to the art of storytelling. Listening to her speak was worth ten times the cost of the conference to me and the highlight was hearing her read from her own works. I feel like I’m a better writer just for being there. Yeah, she’s that awesome.

So the conference was great, and the people I met were amazing, and the experience was one that I’ll cherish forever. Now I’m here, back on earth, working and living and surviving the inevitable crash that comes after such a wonderful event. I’m going to write, and write, and write some more, and do my best to meet the standards of excellence set into my mind from Storymakers.

~ Jamie

The Writer's Voice Entry

As part of the process to move forward with my newest project, I’ve entered a couple contests. One contest, The Writer’s Voice, randomly selected 150 participants who will have the chance to receive feedback and guidance on both queries and the first 250 words of a manuscript from some wonderful coaches. I have been selected to participate and am thoroughly thrilled at the opportunity. This is my first time dabbling in a contest like this, so I’m a little nervous; however, I know I’ll be in good hands. Here goes:

~ O ~

Query:

At seventeen, Ryan Moon's life is about to end. He'd rather it not, though. In fact, he'd love to live long enough to take Jessica Snow to prom. But Ryan doesn't get what he wants—most zombies don't.

Ryan survived a virus that killed his family, his best friend, and turned millions of people into zombies. Now he lives in a special hospital, part of a government program to find a cure. Except for high school, Ryan’s only access to the world is through his computer, and his only friend in the world is Jessica Snow, a girl he met online.

Jessica is worried Ryan could hurt her; however, she also wants to be his date for prom. Ryan is in love and promises to take her, but his condition worsens. He attacks someone at school and is sent to a secret clinic run by Jessica’s father, who tortures him in the name of science. When finally allowed to see Jessica, Ryan is demoralized and weak. Seeing her reminds him that there are things in life worth fighting for.

He’s craving flesh, turning more and more into the monster that everyone fears, but the only thing Ryan cares about is a promise he made to the girl he met online. He'll take her to prom if her father doesn't kill him first.

I am seeking representation for my YA novel, DEAD AND BELOVED, complete at 54,000 words. I have included the first page for review.

~ O ~

Chapter One:

It's all going to end one day. People will stop screaming when they see my face, no one will be afraid to touch me, and the world will stop feeling so cold. Until then, I'd like to live a normal life, or at least one that everyone I've ever cared about wasn't already dead. But for someone like me, someone so close to the end, normal will never happen. It bites. How's a guy supposed to focus in class with all that on his mind?

So I wander the halls, trying not to infect anyone on the way to Biology. At least no one fainted in front of me yet today. That makes slipping into my seat remarkably simple.

 "Ryan, you're dripping blood on the desk." Mr. Heap glares at me from the front of the room and yanks the yellow biohazard kit from the wall. "Go see the nurse."

Not so simple after all. "Yeah," I mutter, wiping my neck to verify the claim. My fingers come back bloody. "I see it." I grab my bag and announce my annoyance with a loud sigh before ducking toward the door as the tardy bell rings.

I'd say that Hillside is a decent school, but it's the only high school I've known; I've got nothing to compare it with. It took lawsuits and a dozen acts of Congress, but they accept me here now—sort of. The drawback, I am discovering, is that public education for someone like me comes with a price. Today's incident means more detention.

~ O ~

There you go. I hope you enjoyed it. It's like Warm Bodies meets Pretty in Pink. (yeah, I've got a strange imagination.) Good luck to everyone.

~ Jamie