If you're a writer and you haven't yet found your way to Miss Snark's First Victim, the blog of the lovely Authoress, stop reading this and head over there. Authoress is an unbelievably supportive member of the writing community, and her blog contests have got many an author out of the slushpile.
I was lucky enough to get picked by Authoress in her latest contest where she asked for Twitter pitches of our projects. She picked her 10 favorites, and we get to post our pitch and our first page on our own blogs for critique. I pitched my YA novel, STUMPED.
Logline: American Pie meets The Sessions as 16 YO Ozzy struggles to dump his virginity and prove he can be a man in a wheelchair.
First 250: I splash on too much of my brother’s aftershave. Shit. I reek of whatever the hell this stuff’s supposed to smell like. Pine trees? Whatever. I never smelled a pine tree that stank like this. No wonder Finn left it behind when he went to college. It’s so overpowering, it masks the scent of chlorine that clings to me after a four hour practice this afternoon. I glance down at my watch. It’s after six, but I guess I have time for another shower. I have to have time. I can’t go meet Lainey smelling like this. She won’t be able to get anywhere near me. Not without choking. I don’t know that I can stay near me. God, this stuff’s awful.
I shuck the towel from around my waist and turn the shower back on. The bathroom’s filled with steam from the one I took ten minutes ago. At least the water’s still hot. I climb in and let the liquid sluice over me. I don’t know if that’s enough to get rid of the awful aftershave, so I grab the soap and scrub my face and neck until they feel raw. That’ll have to do. For good measure, I soap the rest of me again too. Look at me, Mr. Clean. I lean back against the wall and think about Lainey. Those shorts she was wearing this morning should be illegal. At least on her. Damn, that girl has a hot ass. Her legs aren’t bad either.