Query, Query, Why So Dreary?

Today's, or rather, tonight's post is inspired by a comment by the lovely A.L. Sonnichen from yesterday's post and my admission of how I like to write query letters. I think I need to explain this a bit more.

When I’m having writer’s block…well, I don’t really like to call it writer’s block, I’m more so just at a stall and need to let my mind focus on other things. So when I’m like that, I still like to be in the world of the manuscript and that often has me writing my query or synopsis.

I know some people think you shouldn’t be writing a query or even thinking about it until your manuscript is complete, but I say do what you want! If it helps to keep you in that world by drafting out a letter, then do it. I have queries written for books I haven’t even started. Now I will caution not to send out the query until the ms is complete, but write it whenever you feel like it.

So here’s my offer. Because A.L. Sonnichen wanted to know if I offer help to those aspiring writers who have queries they’re struggling with, I came up with this idea. If you look to the right sidebar you will see where the fan-tab-ulous Daphne Unfeasible--a.k.a Kate Testerman over at KT Literary--critiqued my query for LIGHT BRINGERS, or you can go here and read it. I’ve also posted the query I just wrote for my current w.i.p., PLATINUM DIARIES, if you like either of them and want me to take a look at your query, feel free to email me at kdrose72 at gmail dot com and I’ll have a looksee.

Also, feel free to offer an opinion on either of my posted queries!

Note: I can’t claim major success with my query for Light Bringers, but it did get me several requests for partials which lead to a few full requests. Ultimately I haven’t landed an agent, YET :-), but there are some problems with LB that I’m working on and I truly believe it will see the inside of the books stores, and not just from me carrying the ms into Barnes & Nobel-lol.

~*~

I am seeking representation for my young adult paranormal novel, PLATINUM DIARIES, where dreams can cause real life nightmares.

Sixteen-year-old Sayra Nieves’s dreams always come true. Usually, her nocturnal visions are glimpses of teen angst—who’ll get caught making out behind the bleachers, who’ll face-plant in the cafeteria, or which teacher has a pop quiz planned. When she dreams of a man being murdered by a gang of masked men, Sayra is shaken to her core—she’s never had a dream that hasn’t come true. Because the dream manifests after the new student, Chaz Bishop knocks her off her bike with his truck, she wonders if that accident is the reason for the violent turn in her dreams.

Weird by most standards, Chaz instantly lands on Sayra’s bad side with his gloved hands, tightly buttoned shirts and freakish aversion to being touched. He’s kind of cute, but to Sayra, not nearly cute enough to overlook his odd-ball behavior. It becomes a side project for Sayra, finding out why Chaz is so weird about being touched. But as her dreams become more sinister, Sayra enlists the help of her two best friends—and reluctantly, Chaz—to begin their own amateur sleuthing. As one mystery leads to another, Sayra quickly discovers that she and her friends are dangerously in over their heads. But once they discover the identity of the murdered man from her dreams, no one will quit until they help him, even if it costs them their lives.

Platinum Diaries is complete at 65,000 words. I majored in English at the University of Maryland, where I studied media arts and creative writing. I believe fans of Lisa McMann and Alyson Noel may enjoy my novel. The entire manuscript is available upon request. Thank you for your consideration.

Writing Prompts

So, super agent Daphne Unfeasible (aka KT Literary) issued a holiday writing prompt on her fantastic blog yesterday. I’m not usually one who can do writing prompts because it kinda feels like an assignment/homework, and if you know me you know I HATED homework! So, I didn’t really think I’d do this, but one of the prompts stood out to me, and I thought of a brief scene. Of the three offered, I chose: I didn’t actually expect to go swimming….

Tell me what you think…hope I got all the typos :-o


My father was a total tyrant! Why he felt the need to make me re-mow the lawn and on the hottest day of the year was beyond me. Okay, so maybe I was grounded and maybe I took his car without permission, but this could be classified as child abuse. From inside the air-conditioned house, my mother peered out of the window giving me the, I’m sorry face—not a sweat bead in sight.

I had long since snatched off my shirt, and draped it over my head, trying to stave off the sun from frying my brain. The lawn mower barely spit out any cut grass, but enough that I’d still have to rake before I could even think about going inside.

Finished with the front, I shut off the motor to head around back. You’d think my dad would get a riding mower for the acres of land behind the house, but no, he had a young strapping son so why bother with that expense.

“Hey, Eric.”

I turned and had to struggle to keep my mouth from flopping open as Marianne Weeks stood in front of me clad in a stars and strips bikini. Her copper hair shimmered in the scorching sun and she squinted pale green eyes at me. I swallowed and fought to keep my eyes north of her bikini top. It was a struggle.

“H-hey Marianne. What brings you by?”

She sucked on a firecracker popsicle that was rapidly melting. “Well…” She smiled sweetly with red tinted lips. “It’s so hot out, thought I’d come by and see if I could take a quick dip in your pool.”

Marianne and I used to swim together all the time, back when we were like six. Fast forward ten years, and Marianne hung with the popular kids and I, well…didn’t. She was still nice to me even if her friends weren’t.

Popsicle juice dripped down her hand, somehow making me thirstier. As if reading my mind, or perhaps reacting to the ravenous way I was staring at her, she offered the red, white and blue popsicle. I took it and slurped it off the stick in a single suck.

“Wow, thirsty?” She giggled.

“Sorry," I said, chewing the ice cold popsicle and trying to ignore the brain-freeze stabbing its way through my head. "I’ve just been cutting this grass forever.”

“So come take a dip with me.” She reached out and took my hand.

I glanced down at the lawnmower, at our linked hands, and then over my shoulder at the patio doors. My parents were nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t pop up soon. But it was Marianne Weeks for crying out loud! If I didn’t take this opportunity my friends would forever curse my name.

Drumming up my courage, I decided to go for it. Hell, I was already grounded, may as well have a good reason for being incarcerated.

“Okay,” I said, already moving toward the glistening pool, “but we can’t be long cause we’re having people over for the 4th.”

Now running, we dove into the pool, laughing and screaming. That first blast of cool water was like slicing into heaven. I hadn’t actually expected to go swimming today, but even if my father grounded me until the ice age returned, I would never regret splashing in the pool with Marianne.