susan b. james (elfmama) wrote,
susan b. james
elfmama

Resolutions Check In

Woo Hoo! I said I'd check back in March and I'm early. And I did what I set out to do.
My YA paranormal, No Body to Love, is complete at 62,502 words.
My query letter is out there, right now, in the inbox of 3 different agents. 
So, yay me! Sorry to brag but writing is a lonely life and if I don't do it, no one will.

I'm especially pleased because I not only did what I wanted to do, but I also managed to take Mary Kole's Writer's Digest YA webinar, volunteer at my daughter's school's literary festival and get into Miss Snark's February Secret Agent Contest. I didn't get picked by the agent, but I got loads of brilliant critiques and very encouraging comments which can be viewed here:

http://misssnarksfirstvictim.blogspot.com/2012/02/february-secret-agent-33.html

If you've never checked out Authoress' Secret Agent Archives, do it now. They're full of fantastic info on specific agents' likes and dislikes.

And what of the rest of my resolutions- jogging at least once a week and stuff like that. Well, um...I'm working on it. I mean, sheesh, it's only February. But, I did rewrite my first page after the SA contest.

          There's something universally wrong about a mouth that's dry as a bone and palms that sweat like buckets. I tried to breathe deep just like they'd ask and got a lungfull of dry, chemical-smelling air. My heart beat hard once, twice and then jumped just as I wished I could jump out of the chair away from tight straps across my face, the whine of the drill in my ear and the sick, metallic taste of ground tooth on my tongue. I focused on the trees outside, the gently waving branches, the leaves fluttering in the fresh air. And somehow, I got my wish. I wasn’t in the dentist’s chair anymore, but my body was.

            It was like the window had morphed into a wide screen and I was watching a movie of myself. I could see Dr. Jackson sitting on a stool and her assistant checking the dials on the laughing gas. In between them, in the chair was somebody wearing my black flip flops, my faded denim shorts. What looked like my unimpressive chest moved slowly, up and down, though I felt so breathless and…fluttery.           

            And that’s when I realized I no longer heard the whine of the drill in my ear. I heard birds chirping.  I no longer saw the tree because I was in it. And I nearly fell out when a guy’s voice spoke from right behind me. “It’s your first time, isn’t it?”

            I whirled round and nearly died.





Tags: authoress, critique, excerpt, resolutions, writing
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