2017 #YayYA Entry #14: Fighting Clichés

Bethany Stevenson (@bethanypeep)

Genre: MG Fantasy Comedy

Title: Fighting Clichés

Pitch: Brianna wants to star in a Great Author’s novel, but when a cliche adventure comes her way, and she has to ruin the story and survive a war against a necromancer to achieve her dream

500:

Brianna did not live in a hole in the ground, nor in a massive palace, thank goodness. 
She lived in a cottage by the ocean, overlooking white cliffs. Her home bordered the desert, ocean, and forest, putting her in the center of her own world. That gave her a special place to be found by adventurers. 

If someone were to come to her, looking for a journeyer, voyager, adventurer, or hero, they’d come for a specific reason, needing a main character. Thankfully, cliche story holders went to those holes in the ground and palaces, where hopeful teens thought they’d stick out, living as griffons or ogres while wearing too many costumes and too much makeup.

Ever since her fifteenth birthday, Brianna imagined the sounds of living through a war or smells of wild valleys where unicorns trod. Now that she was eligible to be the main character of a young adult novel, she anticipated something mysterious to take place in her life. 

As she fed the family camels, she watched her boots  for stray photographs of peculiar people in the dust. Nothing met her boots except some twigs and camel manure, as usual, but she kept on hoping. 

Of course, she couldn’t dream too much, otherwise she’d be stuck in dating wars for some prince or chasing prophecies, both of which were cliche. And the Great Authors of Novella never wanted to put cliche stories in their collections of their world’s history. 

On one particular morning, as Brianna wondered what it would be like to live in a secret society, a strange fellow with a feathered face and yellow boots arrived on their porch. 

Brianna stopped between the camel-yard and cottage, staring at the creature. Her mother rushed from the house, wringing her hands in her apron and leaving the door open to let out scents of taffy being made in the kitchen.

Inside, Brianna’s excitement boiled. She bit her lip, to hold back her hope. 

No non-human creatures came to Adventuras Island in the world of Novella, unless they wanted to find someone to take on an adventure. 

Camels huffed in the back of her ears, nervous. The wind even changed directions. Yes, this has to be my time. My turn to become a hero. 

“Dear, sir!” Brianna’s mother called, addressing the feathered-visitor by her usual term for everyone. “Are you lost? Do you need shelter?”

Brianna made her way over to the short creature and her mother. 

Her mother’s fingers danced at her side, as if she played an invisible piano… as if she thought this hero-seeker was for her. Brianna couldn’t hold back her scowl. No, mom. This needs to be mine. You’ve already had five adventures.

The feather-faced visitor bowed, tucking both his arms to his chest and revealing some rather curly purple nails that matched his plumaged complexion. “My Lady of the Laughing Forbidden Cliffs, Áirneath, whose eyes are golden and face is like glowing emeralds…”

“Hold it!” Brianna cut in.

2017 #YayYA Entry #13: Seductress

Name: Jessica Grace Kelley (@JessicaGraceLit)

Genre: YA Fantasy

Title: Seductress

35-word Pitch: In an alternate universe where perfumes are drugs, a young socialite travels to Parise to take vengeance on the Count of Grosmith, the man who forced her mother into a life as a courtesan.

First 500 Words:

I stare down at my white knuckles, the same color as the creamy envelope they clutch. This letter holds the last bit of guidance my mother ever gave me. Once this move is made, the rest of her vengeance will be up to me. A vengeance I spent years preparing for.

               My whole life has led to this.

  “Focus, Em." Darcane's voice pulls me back to the carriage. "Remember why we’re here. This is the first step to taking back what’s yours.”  Darcane sits in the seat across from me.  He’s hidden by shadows, except for the outline of his tailored jacket and auburn hair, but I know he’s staring me down, criticizing every inch of me in the best and worst ways.

“Don’t you mean what was hers?” I slip mother's letter back into my clutch.

“You’re the heir to her fortune. Now it belongs to you.” Darcane’s words curl around the truth, bitterness dripping from that last syllable. When mother made me her beneficiary instead of her favored employee, as she promised, it was a blow to his pride. 

His fury is too good not celebrate with a grin. 

 Darcane shifts forward, the glare from the window highlighting his unfortunately gorgeous grey stare. It digs into me, mapping my weakness, and his jaw dances as he presses his molars down on unspoken words. 

 "Don't be so quick to laugh, " he says. “You inherited everything, including the debts she never paid and the enemies she made. We both know how long that list was.”

  Long enough to drive us from London. 

I fall back into the cushioned seat.  That coal-coated city never offered me much kindness, but it would’ve been nice to have a say in my address. Instead, Darcane and I fled as soon as he forged new identity papers.  I don’t miss wondering if I’d be gutted by some Black Tips’ lackey or offed by some desperate soul indebted to my mother, but the choice to stay is one more check mark on the list of things stolen from me. 

A Skyrail engine sounds its horn from above. I slip a finger beneath the window curtain to peek at the street outside, craning my neck for a glimpse of their infamous speeding cars. All I see are the ornate store fronts Parise is so famous for. It's beautiful. I understand why mother loved it.  She was happy here, once. Before the Count betrayed her.

I wonder if the Count knows how black he turned her soul.

The curtain slips from my fingers. We aren’t here to sightsee. We’re to ruin the Count of Grosmith by stealing his business’ secrets and wringing his heart. Today is the first move. I need to persuade the Count's head Perfumist to make me a potion off the books. That isn’t a simple task. Darcane has a job to do too, and I’m nervous about his ability to pull it off.  I don’t like being dependent on other people.

 Especially him.

2017 #YayYA Entry #12: Dusk Before Dawn

Rosie Brown
@rosiesrambles
YA Fantasy
DUSK BEFORE DAWN

Pitch: In a world based on North and West African folklore, the crown princess of a desert nation must quell a mutiny against her comatose mother’s throne while avoiding the refugee tasked to kill her.  

First 500:

Malik wasn’t ready to see the sun again.

After two weeks of near complete darkness, the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun stung his eyes. Splotches of purple and green danced across his vision as Hassan barked, “Everybody out!”

Malik had no idea how the smuggler expected them to follow this order. He and the other refugees were packed so closely together within the confines of Hassan’s wagon that it made even breathing difficult. Moving was not an option.

When nobody followed his orders, Hassan grabbed Malik by his shoulders, lifted the boy from the wagon bed, and tossed him onto the dusty ground. The metallic taste of blood and sand exploded in Malik’s mouth. He scrambled to his knees, clutching the strap of his worn leather satchel tightly to his chest.

“Everybody get out,” Hassan yelled again.

“Malik!”

Nadia jumped out of the wagon bed and ran to her brother’s side, grabbing onto his pant leg as he coughed. Their mother Rahila followed after her, shooting Hassan a glare as she dropped to her knees beside her son.

“Are you okay?” Nadia asked, her dark eyes wide. Fighting the pain, Malik gave a small nod.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, I promise.”

Rahila’s eyes narrowed, her hands clenching into fists. Malik forced a smile on his face, anything to let her know he was fine. They had enough to worry about without adding his wellbeing to the mix.

After double checking Malik was not injured, Rahila turned to the smuggler and demanded, “What is the meaning of this? Why have we stopped?”

Hassan spit a glob of phlegm onto the ground near Malik’s feet before replying, “Sentinel checkpoint.”

The knot of anxiety in Malik’s stomach tightened, and he glanced around as if one of the aforementioned warriors would come at them with a scimitar at any moment. If the Sentinels were to discover their motley group of refugees and the man who had smuggled them halfway across the desert, death would be most merciful option waiting for them.

“But you said when we left Talafri that this route had no Sentinels on it!” cried Rahila.

“Shut your mouth!” Hassan glanced over his shoulder, his hand hovering near the hilt of his dagger. He was by no means a small man, and in the short time Malik had known him, the smuggler had never shown uncertainty of any kind. The fear tinging Hassan’s words now only added to Malik’s own nerves.

Hassan continued, “Are you trying to summon every Sentinel patrol between here and Mahashe?”

Rahila grumbled but did not reply, much to Malik’s relief. His mother may not have feared the curved dagger that hung at Hassan’s hip, but Malik did.

They had stopped beside a large stone outcropping a little ways away from the main road, and as Hassan maneuvered the camel-drawn wagon deeper into the shade, Malik dared to look around. The golden sands of the Odjubai desert stretched out in every direction.

2017 #YayYA Entry #11: It Gives A Lovely Light

Name: Averill Frankes

@averillelisa 

Genre: YA Contemporary

Title: IT GIVES A LOVELY LIGHT

35-word pitch: University is a chance for Adeline to escape: from an abusive home, superficial friends, a suffocating small town. But when long-time crush Jake returns, Adeline realizes how much there really is to lose.

First 500 words:

The wind blows through my hair as I lean my head by the open window of my best friend’s car. I breathe in the fresh air of my newly free life. Today was our last day of high school, and now, Nikki is dropping me off at home before our big celebration tonight at The Exit. 

“I can’t believe we’re done. Like, done done.” Nikki navigates the roads expertly while she rattles on. “We never have to go back there again.” 

I smile at her excitement, but I hardly share it. High school got me out of the house every day, gave me excuses to just not be home. Now, I have the entire summer ahead of me, which is probably why I volunteered to do full-time hours at the grocery store. Nikki can’t believe I would do such a thing during our last summer before university, but, frankly, I can use the money.  

“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy,” I say. 

“C’mon, Adeline,” Nikki says, briefly looking over from the road. “This is what we’ve been working for all these years. Freedom!” 

I lean back against the head rest and look out the window at the lamp posts speeding past. Nikki has no idea what that word really means to me. 

“Let me hear you say it, Adeline. FREEDOM!” She yells the word so loud, I cover my ears. She looks over at me expectantly while we idle at a read light. 

“FREEDOM!” I yell out, making the driver in the car next to us stare. I slink down in my seat while Nikki takes off at the green light. 

“That’s the spirit!” She navigates around a pothole. “This summer is going to be amazing. The whole gang will be together again!” 

She’s referring, of course, to Jake. The only member of our inner circle who isn’t going to be there tonight since he’s a year ahead of us and he’s still at university taking extra credit courses. We haven’t seen each other since his last break over two months ago and haven’t talked in almost a week. It’s is so out of our ordinary daily conversations that I’ve started to believe he might have forgotten about us. Or, about me, anyway. 

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s going to be great.”  

Nikki pulls up in front of my house and puts the car in park, shifting to look at me. “So, we’ll meet at my place in a few hours?”

I nod, plastering on the persona I know Nikki wants to see. Happy Adeline, Cool Adeline, Completely Fake Adeline. “I’ll see you then.” 

Nikki leans over the console and hugs me. I squeeze her back, then climb out of the car and wave her off. I take the walk to my front door and step into the house. I never know what awaits me across the threshold, but the cloud that descends upon me as I shut the door behind me is never a good sign.

The pitch: 

Adeline has been lying to her friends about her abusive home. University means escape, but by severing the strings keeping her in her suffocating small town, she risks losing everyone else in the process.

First 500 words:

It’s June, so I shouldn’t be shivering after ducking out of the club. But it’s too hot inside, with all my classmates crowding around to say goodbye like we won’t be seeing each other all summer. I wrap my arms around myself to fend off the early summer chill while enjoying the light breeze.

“Adeline?” a voice calls out. It’s Nikki. Head cheerleader, president of student council and everything else, she was the most popular girl in school, and my best friend.

“Over here,” I call out, not quite ready to surrender my solitude.

Her tiny frame rounds the corner, dressed in a yellow sundress that highlights her straight, auburn hair. She shuffles over to me. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!”

“I just needed some air,” I say, plastering on the persona I know she wants to see. Happy Adeline. Cool Adeline. Completely Fake Adeline.

She falls onto the wall beside me. “I can’t believe we’re done. Like, done done. We never have to go back there again.”

I smile at her excitement, but I hardly share it. High school gave me an excuse to be out of the house all the time and away from Charlie, my older brother, ruling the house now that Dad’s gone and my mother, who never fails to find a fault in me, if she even remembers I’m there. Now, I have the entire summer in that house ahead of me.

“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy,” I say.

“C’mon, Adeline,” Nikki says, her green eyes staring up at me in the dim light of the parking lot. “This is what we’ve been working for all these years. Freedom!”

I lean my head back against the wall. “Freedom,” I repeat. Nikki has no idea what that word really means to me.

“This summer is going to be amazing. Soon the whole gang will be together again!” Nikki continues.

She’s referring, of course, to Jake. He’s the only member of our inner circle who isn’t going to be here tonight since he’s a year ahead of us and is still at university taking extra credit courses. We haven’t seen each other since his last break over two months ago and I’ve started to worry he might have forgotten about us. Or, about me, anyway.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s going to be great.”

Nikki’s phone buzzes and she checks it discretely, a wide smile spreading across her face. She shoves it back in her purse and takes me by the shoulders so I face her.

“What’s going on, Nik?” I ask.

A car turns into the parking lot and as I squint to see where I’ve seen it before, Nikki turns me back around. She keeps her hands on my shoulders, and her smile is even wider than it was before. “Just, stay here, okay?”

I glance back but I can’t see anything. “What is it?”

A car door slams and Nikki spins me around quickly. "Surprise!" she whispers in my ear. 

2017 #YayYA Entry #10: Saving Grace

Karis Rogerson (@KarisRogerson)

YA Contemporary

SAVING GRACE

35-word pitch:

Grace needs to be saved—from herself and the self-loathing that coats her. When a family tragedy sends her spiraling, it takes a new friend and a laugh-filled road trip to show her life’s potential.

First 500:

I’ve stumbled into this porta potty that smells of sewage death in the baking summer heat of Tennessee for one express purpose: to take pill after pill after pill. To wait for my sight to fade and the world to go black. To let my breathing slow, slow, slow, stop.

To die, in short. To erase all mention and memory of myself from this earth. To leave behind the pain and the gaping hole he left in my life.

Crouched in the smelly box, not really trying to avoid the puddles of surely urine and poop, I rifle through the duffel bag, past my phone, lit up with messages from Mason — my heart clenches at the thought of him — and my fingers close around one of Michael’s pill bottles. 

This will do. 

I pull the bottle out and unscrew the cap, shake some pills into my hand.

They are pink and peach and purple. They are chalky and shaped like dinosaurs. They’re a flashback to my childhood — to early mornings crunching on them and wrinkling my nose at their slightly bitter taste.

A laugh, disbelieving and loud, bursts from my lips. It fills and ricochets in the tiny porta potty space and the sound of it, the ridiculousness of it all, overcomes me and I laugh harder. I bend over and clutch my knees with white knuckles as hysterical laughter envelopes me, the reverberations of sound chasing away the darkness.

When I can breathe again, I look at the bottle in my hand. The label tells me it’s a bottle of dinosaur vitamins.

That’s right.

Vitamins.

I came here to overdose and was going to kill myself with vitamins for kids, shaped like dinosaurs. Freaking heck.

The hilarity overtakes me again and I’m cracking up some more, sliding down so my butt hovers over the dirty floor and my back is wedged against the side of the box.

And when I’m done laughing, I feel…better. Lighter, as though somehow laughter is a brand of magic that releases all the sorrow and the hurt and suddenly, I think tomorrow will be better. 

I mean, obviously there’s a reason the pill bottle I pulled out was full of vitamins and not real drugs.

Maybe the universe is saying it’s not my time to die yet.

Maybe it’s saying I do get a second chance.

*

Someone knocks on the door. “Hello?” a female voice calls, and I push myself to my feet.

“Just a second,” I respond. I stuff everything back in the duffel bag, run my fingers through my hair to try and make it semi-presentable, and turn to leave.

It’s time for Grace Hamrit’s life to start over.

I step out of the bathroom and am temporarily blinded by the amount of bedazzle on the shirt in front of me.

"Crap, you're sparkling!" I say, then clamp my mouth shut.

2017 #YayYA Entery #9: Shadow the Night

Name: Aria Valentine (@ariavwrites)

Genre: YA Fantasy

Title: Shadow the Night

35-Word Pitch: When 17-year-old Haylo’s investigation of her blind sister’s murder uncovers a plot to resurrect dark magic, she must overcome her guilt and solitude to fight for the truth and save her tropical kingdom.

First 500 Words:

The first raindrops struck my scalp like a torrent of wasp stings. I never could outrun the storms, but I always outran the jaguars.

I just prayed my sister could, too.

“Haylo!”

She called out my name too loud, too shrill, like a wounded antelope screeching. The bounding paws and resonant growling behind us only got louder in response.

“It’s okay, Mara, just keep going!”

The rain fell heavier with every step we took, turning the soil underfoot into umber silt that threatened to pull us down like quicksand. Evading the jungle’s twisting vines and jutting rocks at high speed was always harder during in a downpour. Running barefoot didn’t help, but it was the only way Mara could navigate.

My burning lungs clawed at the moist air, grasping for the strength to call out to her. “Remember … when your feet hit grass … turn left!”

Mara slowed her sprint to keep from slipping, and I had to shorten my own stride to keep her in my sights. I stayed so far behind her, I could almost feel the jaguar’s breath on the back of my legs.

Big cat teeth sinking into the flesh of my calves—the image invaded my mind, seeping into my every thought like poison. How quickly could it kill me?

My heart convulsed faster and faster, catching up to the beat of our hastened feet pounding the forest floor. With every exhalation, I lost another shred of stamina. 

We’re not going to make it.

Then, like light at the end of a tunnel, sprigs of emerald pasture came into view. My jaw clenched as Mara approached the grass path. Even a fraction of hesitation and we’d be cat food.

But right on clue, she deftly swerved left as her feet hit the greenery. I followed close behind, wishing I had enough breath for a sigh of relief. All that came out was ragged panting. The jaguar was still just dozens of yards behind us.

I may have had more muscle on my thighs, but his heavy paws could propel him into the air with every step. That’s why outrunning jaguars was more a matter of outwitting. The predators never learned as quickly as the prey.

Without warning, the beastly feline let out a deep, rumbling roar behind us—a warning against me challenging his intelligence. My stomach lurched at the sound, and so did Mara’s legs.

A vine caught her foot. The few seconds she took to steady herself brought her ever-closer to the jaguar.

“Haylo … I can’t do it!”

No, no, no. The pain in her cry. I could feel it. She truly thought she was going to die here. And I couldn’t let that happen.

“Omara Ivy!” I shouted, finding unexpected power in my lungs. “You are blind in sight, but not in perception. Your awareness, your judgement—they’re clearer than the light of day!”

Mara was blind, but she knew our tropical kingdom of Ventura even better than I did.

2017 #YayYA Entry #8: Shift

Name: Keli Vice

Twitter Handle: @kelivice

Genre: YA/Paranormal Romance

Title: Shift

PITCH: 
An unfriended social outcast, Emily dreads senior year…until she becomes entangled in a strange romance with an intriguing new student, who turns out to be much more than he seems.

500 WORDS: 

From where I’m parked up in the Junior Lot, I can see the big soccer ball I painted across the asphalt last month under my name: E-M-I-L-Y in tall black block letters. Megan helped me fill in the green grass at the bottom, then I helped her finish outlining her name—three-foot-tall letters that stretch diagonally across her parking space two over from mine. Lyla, still annoyed we’d woken her up before noon, sipped on the Starbuck’s Frappuccino we bribed her with and refused our help painting the big red and white pompoms that fill the top of her spot. I grimace at the words underneath: Go Kennedy! IY#24.

The ache in the back of my throat grows, and I swallow, trying to push it down. It’s hard to believe only six weeks have passed since I spent that long summer day with my two best friends. The three of us had been talking about painting our senior parking spaces since the fifth grade, when Megan’s cousin painted his. San Carlan Elementary’s “Three Musketeers” finally made it to senior year and, thanks in large part to Lyla Park’s unstoppable powers of persuasion, scored three sweet spaces in the coveted front row of the Senior Lot. 

But that was all before July 4th. 

Now, Megan’s gone. And Lyla….Well, it’s unlikely that Lyla will ever speak to me again without a sneer twisting up her perfect pouty lips. So much for childhood friendships.

The last thing I meant to do today was arrive early. I’ve been dreading today. But I couldn’t stand another minute of my mom pretending not to stare at me over her coffee mug, like I might break down and lose it at any moment.  

With the windows up, the vanilla scent of the air freshener hanging from my rear-view mirror is overpowering. I flick the tacky green cardboard tree, watching it swing as I swallow back the lump forming in my throat. Dad surprised me this morning, cleaning out my car and filling up the tank before he left for work. I’d told my parents a watered-down version of what happened out at the lake, but they know there’s more to the story. The past few weeks have been filled with hushed conversations that cut off the minute I walk into the room.

The parking lot fills around me as the dashboard clock marches towards 8:00am. I hope none of the juniors recognize my car; the mere fact that I’m parked here confirms the rumors of my social exile. Not like most of them don’t already know. My fall down Kennedy High’s social ladder had been swift, irrevocable and well-publicized on Snapchat. I only saw the beginning of Lyla’s rant before I was blocked, one by one, by just about everyone on my friend list. Juniors included.

My heart squeezes into a fist as a familiar bright red BMW cruises into the senior lot below.