YOUNG ADULT/CROSSOVER
Ella's Rain
Logline: A young girl learns to live again when her grandma, who dies, leaves her 365 notes, one for every day of the coming year.
Opening: Ella stared at the alabaster urn the funeral director had given her. It was hard to believe that Grandma had become nothing more than a pile of white ashes. She longed to feel her grandma’s thick arms around her and to smell her sweet perfume that hung in the air like an August fog. How does a cream-puff-of-a-lady become a bag of brittle bones? she wondered.
Cancer. That evil C word. The word she had lived with for almost a year. The evil thing that had devoured Grandma like a vulture devours a dead carcass, gorging itself until its crop bulges and leaving nothing but splintered bones behind.
It was so unfair, Ella thought. Grandma Dorothy was all she had. And now her beloved Dorothy was gone, off to an Emerald City from which she would never return. And Ella was left with nothing but the damn alabaster urn Grandma had picked out before she died. Picked out like everything else.
The hymns that would be sung.
The biblical passages that would be read.
Even the flowers that would sit beside the urn on the pedestal table.
Picked out everything like it was some damn picnic…
The Moment Keeper
Logline: As a Moment Keeper records the moments of her charge's life, she comes to see how life is a intricate tapestry of which we are threads woven together in ways we have never anticipated or imagined. The charge learns that a second can change a life forever and that it's what we do with the moments that count.
Opening: “But you promised. You promised you’d be there for me,” says Olivia, tears exploding from her swollen eyes.
Cole runs his fingers through his dark, curly hair. “I know what I said. But. It’s just that I’m supposed to go to college and …”
“So college is more important than me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Look, Lib. I love you. You know that. I’m just not ready for this.”
“And I am?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. We’re both not ready.”
“Well, it’s a little too late for that realization. You should have thought about that two months ago when you convinced me to have sex with you.”
Cole punches the bed and stands up. “Damn it, Lib. That’s a cheap shot. You’re not going to pin this all on me. You wanted to do it, too. It’s not like I forced you.”
“Just leave. Leave.”
“I don’t want to leave you like this. I want to talk about our options.”
“Options? There are no options. I’m pregnant. With your child. You don’t want it. You’ve made that clear. Look, this is my problem. Not yours. So just go. Now.”
Cole grabs his varsity jacket and takes two steps toward Olivia before she backs away. “Look, Lib. I can’t talk to you when you get like this. Can we talk later? When you calm down.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. We did it once. Once. And I got pregnant and you want out. Well, I’m giving you your out. There’s the door.”
“Lib, if I could go back in time and change that one moment I would.” Cole walks out the bedroom door and Olivia throws one of Daisy’s squeaky toys at him. The rubber bone hits Cole in the back but he doesn’t turn around.
Olivia flops on her bed and pulls her boney knees up to her heaving chest. Tears soak her blue satin pillow. Her cries feel like a knife twisting in my heart. I want to comfort her. To hold her in my arms and tell her that things are never as bad as they seem. That I understand her pain and that she needs to be strong.
But I can’t.
All I can do, all I have ever been able to do, is watch and record the moments of her life as they unfold. I’m her moment keeper. It’s my job to record her life story, to capture and hold every moment she ever lived so that when she dies I’m able to play them back for her, one after another.
Olivia spots her purple fuzzy bathrobe draped over the footboard of her cherry bed. She pulls the belt out and sits up, wrapping it around her right hand. I know what she’s thinking. I always know. It’s part of being her moment keeper. I always know what she thinks and feel what she feels. Her joys and sorrows and fears become mine.
Of all of the moments I’ve recorded in Olivia’s life, this is the most difficult yet. She’s thinking about killing herself, about using her bathrobe belt, wondering if it’s strong enough or if she should use one of the leather belts in her closet.
It takes me back to the day my life ended – the day I killed myself.
YOUNG ADULT
The Lion Awakens
Logline: Two 17-year-olds find information hidden in anonymous gifts that leads them to a parallel universe and an enemy hell-bent on taking over their world.
The video appeared like
a summer storm that pops up unexpectedly and drenches you in seconds. You’re
caught unprepared and the only thing you can do is hope the rising water
doesn’t whisk you away – or become your watery grave.
.....
David McClure upchucked
the water he had just guzzled all over his keyboard. He pounded his chest and
coughed, trying to clear his throat. He knew right away that the man in the video
was his dead dad. Thirteen
freakin’ years and like The Great Oz the man appears out of nowhere. Unbelievable!
Freakin’ unbelievable! David thought, running his hands through his
Brillo hair.
ADULT
The Yearbook Series
Gina and Mike
Opening: The bastard was dead.
I stared at the newspaper clipping Mom had mailed
me. I had read his obituary online, but seeing it on paper in front of me made
it more real. Kind of like watching the Wicked Witch of the West melt in the
“Wizard of Oz” – all the evil you loath becoming a puddle of nothing.
Richard M. Smith, 61, was ushered into Heaven on
Saturday, February 11, 2012, surrounded by his family at his home.
I’m pretty sure he went
to Hell.
He was a loving husband, devoted father and dedicated
coach.
He was the biggest
asshole on this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. Maybe on the whole East Coast.
Oh, what the hell, let’s just say the entire country. You get the point, he was
an A-S-S-H-O-L-E and I hated him more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life.
Mostly because he
ruined it.
MIDDLE GRADE
Freaky Frank
Logline: Humorous middle-grade for boys about a telepathic middle-schooler who battles bullies along with his rag-tag friends.
Opening: I have a secret. I know things. Lots of things. Like I know that my math teacher, Mr. Bugg, is going to pick his nose and wipe a boogie on the back of his smiley face tie when he turns around to write on the board. And I know that Lacey, who sits next to me, is hoping that Jon, who sits behind me, asks her to our eighth-grade school dance. And that she really, really, really hopes that the pimple she popped and powdered before class doesn’t look like a giant apple on the tip of her nose. And that Jon doesn’t see said giant apple pimple when she accidentally-on-purpose bumps into him while leaving class.
Opening: I have a secret. I know things. Lots of things. Like I know that my math teacher, Mr. Bugg, is going to pick his nose and wipe a boogie on the back of his smiley face tie when he turns around to write on the board. And I know that Lacey, who sits next to me, is hoping that Jon, who sits behind me, asks her to our eighth-grade school dance. And that she really, really, really hopes that the pimple she popped and powdered before class doesn’t look like a giant apple on the tip of her nose. And that Jon doesn’t see said giant apple pimple when she accidentally-on-purpose bumps into him while leaving class.
See what I mean? I know tons of things. Freaky Frank. That’s me, all right. I can get inside people’s brains and know what they’re thinking.
It has its advantages. Like knowing that Jen thinks I’m kind of hot (especially likes my dark, curly hair) even though she prefers high school dudes, like her neighbor Tommy who’s the only ninth-grader on the varsity basketball team.
The Brain Invaders
Logline: Middle-schoolers struggle to save their community from genetically engineered sea snakes that control the brains of humans they inhabit.
Opening: The man shook violently. His eyes rolled in their sockets and his body went limp and thudded to the floor. His tongue hung out of his mouth. It looked like it was growing.
I rubbed my eyes. His tongue was growing. It was getting longer and longer. No, not his tongue. It was something else. Some kind of creature. Oh gross! It slithered out of his mouth. It looked like a snake, but different. Maybe an eel.
Its body was about as long as my arm and it was black and scaly. Its head was about the size of a baseball and it had three beady eyes and a narrow mouth with tiny jagged teeth. I had never seen anything so ugly in my life.
Each time the bingo caller shouted a number, another person would stand and eat a bingo chip. The person's body would go limp, fall to the floor and one of these things would crawl out of its mouth.
Disgusting! I felt like I had to throw up. Bodies were scattered all over the floor. The creatures writhed and slithered.
High Street Dares/Locket of Doom
Logline: Five middle-schoolers double dared to walk through the cemetery at midnight and perform a spell that will make a particular stone statue cry must solve a mystery involving the statue, an old lady and a shrinking locket before it’s too late. Book ends with a dare setting the next book up in the series.
Opening: I tried to convince A.J. that walking through the cemetery at midnight was no big deal, but she wasn’t buying it.
“We have to. If we don’t, everyone will think we’re wimps,” I said.
“But I’m scared, Mags. I don’t mind walking through the cemetery when it’s light outside, but at midnight? Walking on top of all those dead people when it’s dark gives me the creeps.”
I wasn’t crazy about the idea either. I mean, standing in the middle of a cemetery at midnight isn’t my idea of fun. But I, Margaret Mary O’Malley, never back down from a dare. A.J.’s older brother, Tom, had dared our group, the High Street Gang, to walk through the cemetery at midnight.
“What’s there to be afraid of?” I asked. “Everyone’s dead. It’s not like they’re going to claw their way out of their coffins and grab you and pull you into their grave and we’ll never see you again. Besides, we can’t chicken out. We’ll never hear the end of it. And I really want to see if the statue cries.”
High Street Dares/A Ghostly Connection
Opening: I tried to convince A.J. that walking through the cemetery at midnight was no big deal, but she wasn’t buying it.
“We have to. If we don’t, everyone will think we’re wimps,” I said.
“But I’m scared, Mags. I don’t mind walking through the cemetery when it’s light outside, but at midnight? Walking on top of all those dead people when it’s dark gives me the creeps.”
I wasn’t crazy about the idea either. I mean, standing in the middle of a cemetery at midnight isn’t my idea of fun. But I, Margaret Mary O’Malley, never back down from a dare. A.J.’s older brother, Tom, had dared our group, the High Street Gang, to walk through the cemetery at midnight.
“What’s there to be afraid of?” I asked. “Everyone’s dead. It’s not like they’re going to claw their way out of their coffins and grab you and pull you into their grave and we’ll never see you again. Besides, we can’t chicken out. We’ll never hear the end of it. And I really want to see if the statue cries.”
High Street Dares/A Ghostly Connection
Logline: Five middle-schoolers battle an evil spirit to help a good spirit deliver her message to her dying daughter in a nursing home. Book ends with a dare setting the next book up in the series.
Opening: “You’re insane,” A.J. yelled. “If you think I’m going to sleep in a haunted barn you’re totally out of your mind.”
“I’m with A.J. on this one,” Becca said. “I’ve been spooked ever since you told us your barn was haunted.”
“Come on guys. We can’t let some little itty-bitty ghost stand in our way of a free movie, can we?”
“Did you say free?” asked Toad. “I love free. Free is good.”
“Yeah. Free movie. Here’s the deal. If we do the dare, Tom and Elizabeth will buy us each a movie ticket. And you know me, I never back down from a dare. The free movie just sweetens the deal.”
The whole High Street gang (A.J., Becca, Toad and Micah) stared at me. I knew what they were thinking. They were thinking about the last time I accepted a dare from A.J.’s brother, Tom, and my sister, Elizabeth. We ended up in the cemetery at midnight living our worst nightmare. But this time I knew it would be different. Nothing could ever be as terrifying as that.
Will, Middle Name Trouble
Opening: “Betcha a buck you won’t say it to Mr. Mock,” said Fuzz, wiping his snotty nose on his red baseball shirt.
Opening: “You’re insane,” A.J. yelled. “If you think I’m going to sleep in a haunted barn you’re totally out of your mind.”
“I’m with A.J. on this one,” Becca said. “I’ve been spooked ever since you told us your barn was haunted.”
“Come on guys. We can’t let some little itty-bitty ghost stand in our way of a free movie, can we?”
“Did you say free?” asked Toad. “I love free. Free is good.”
“Yeah. Free movie. Here’s the deal. If we do the dare, Tom and Elizabeth will buy us each a movie ticket. And you know me, I never back down from a dare. The free movie just sweetens the deal.”
The whole High Street gang (A.J., Becca, Toad and Micah) stared at me. I knew what they were thinking. They were thinking about the last time I accepted a dare from A.J.’s brother, Tom, and my sister, Elizabeth. We ended up in the cemetery at midnight living our worst nightmare. But this time I knew it would be different. Nothing could ever be as terrifying as that.
Will, Middle Name Trouble
Opening: “Betcha a buck you won’t say it to Mr. Mock,” said Fuzz, wiping his snotty nose on his red baseball shirt.
“You’re gross,
dude. Ever hear of tissues? They’re
those white things sticking out of that blue box on Mock’s desk. You oughta try
using one sometime. Your shirt looks like it’s been slimed by a slug.”
“Don’t try to change
the subject,” Fuzz said.
“Hear that, Krup? Fuzz thinks I’m trying to change the
subject.”
Krup, aka Kenny Krupinski, laughed.
“I’ll gladly take another buck from you, Fuzz. It’s easy-peasy cash for me,” I said.
Fuzzel Ahmad loves to bet. Most of the time he wins,
except when he bets me, Will Moran. Then he loses. He’s given me more George Washingtons than anyone I
know. Most of the time it’s for stupid stuff.
Like today’s bet. Fuzz thinks I
won’t tell our fifth-grade teacher, Mr. Mock, that his dandruff looks like snow
on the back of his black shirt.
Thing is, that’s what Fuzz , who’s built like a bear, always
thinks. He thinks that I will never do what he bets me to do. He was wrong –
again!
Picture book
One Frog, Two Frogs, Three Frogs, Four
Logline: A boy who saves his money to buy plastic tree frogs from a bubblegum machine decides instead to put it in a collection can to benefit handicapped kids.
