Give spaces personality with color and texture, or don't

[shalanna]

Man, it takes so long to hear back from agents. They respond fairly quickly to my query with a request for a full manuscript, and then I don't hear for months. I worry that by the time my manuscript gets read, "magical chick lit" will be worn out. I've seen so many out there in the past couple of months that I can't help wondering whether that ship has sailed. The worst part is that I've had my books written for some time, before the genre existed, and they just weren't marketable before. Now that they are, it is time to hit the market. Sitting on the agents' desks while they wheel and deal isn't helping much. But I've always heard that agents and editors clear off their desks for the holiday season, so maybe they'll take a look at all those manuscripts before the end of the year.

I don't think it'll hurt the cause if I follow the First Lines Meme--actually the First Few Paragraphs Meme.
* * *
Miranda's Rights -- Chapter One

On the morning of her thirtieth birthday, Miranda Callahan came awake with the certain knowledge that her best friend was casting a spell on her.

"The moon enters the house of the dragon, and Hecate works her magick on me." Miranda groaned, raising her head off the sketches for her latest cartoon panel. She'd fallen asleep at her drawing table again. The entire page was smudged like yesterday's mascara. In the gentle morning light, the new cartoon seemed particularly uninspired. Her fingers flew to her temples, where they automatically started massaging in circles.

What could be worse than waking to unfamiliar magick--except, of course, waking up in a cold bed without Alex. Which she'd cleverly avoided by conking out at her desk around three in the morning.

This spell was benevolent, though, she'd swear. She felt optimistic, for a change, and a little buzzed, as if she'd been affected by the margaritas she vaguely remembered drinking in her dreams. Her stomach guggled. She hadn't been spelled unexpectedly like this since her mother had semi-retired from the Craft.
* * *
CAMILLE'S TRAVELS: or TRAVELS WITHOUT CHARLEY -- Chapter One

By the time Camille MacTavish stepped off the bus in Texas, she was beginning to regret stealing the dragon. But there wasn't much she could do to correct that at the moment.

As the creaky Greyhound pulled away from the curb, exhaling a cloud of diesel smoke, Camille visored her hand and peered after it. She briefly wondered whether Philip knew she was gone yet. He was probably still sleeping peacefully under the icy motel air conditioning, snoring and dreaming of California.

This town was a lot smaller than the ticket clerk had said. Just her luck.
But maybe her luck would take a turn for the better. Way down at the bottom of her left-hand jeans pocket she could feel the dulled vibrations of the netsuke she'd stolen, a Japanese dragon carved out of a knot of burled rosewood to fit in a palm. Impulsively she shoved her hands deep into her pockets. When her fingers touched the dragon, they tingled.
* * *
LOVE, BRAD -- Chapter One
"Well, helloooo there. Didn't know you'd made it out here already."

Brad Peterson felt five talons digging into his shoulder through his lightweight gray flannel jacket. Across the pool, somebody cannonballed in, and the crest of water splashed up Brad’s pant legs and into his new Italian-leather loafers. The smell of chlorine was overwhelming.

The voice belonged to one of his new bosses. And here he was, overdressed. Wincing, Brad turned.

“I haven’t had a chance yet to welcome you to the firm.” Cassandra Robins, vice president of finance for Smith and Bailey, released her grasp, dragging her fingernails sensuously down Brad’s sleeve. “But I suppose that’s why we’re sponsoring this little get-together, isn’t it? To mix and mingle with our co-workers?” Her voice reminded him of Kim Carnes; a put-on, he wondered, or just the scratchy result of too many cigarettes?

Brad’s hands went to his tie, needlessly straightening it as he gaped at Cassandra’s glistening, oiled, near-naked body. There wasn’t enough fabric in her yellow bikini to make a Barbie doll a decent hat.
* * *
Yow. What a lot of typing that all adds up to, huh?

It's still like summer here. I've got to get outside today and see the damage the squirrels have done to the side of the house. We have some wood trim up near the peak of the roof over the kitchen window that's just hanging down by one nail. The squirrels plan to tear a hole again and move into the eaves and the attic for the winter. Not a good idea. They're pretty strong suckers, too, or they couldn't have pulled that entire board loose.

Comments

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

I like the second one best--that opening sentence is a kicker! (Though I'd get rid of the second sentence.)

[shalanna.livejournal.com]

You're right about the second sentence! I put that in during the last time I opened the file and was scanning down. (Editing never stops.) Somebody else had told me that a heroine who stole something was not admirable and so the book couldn't ever appeal to any publisher. I figured that meant it wasn't a romance. (grin) But then I thought, "I ought to say that she CAN'T exactly put it back now." But the mention of theft is also meant to prepare you for the next thing she feels she has to steal. *sheepish grin* So it doesn't function as a "she's really sorry now" intensifier, after all.

Taking that one out.

(But the trouble is--next time I go through, I'll be tempted to put something ELSE useless in somewhere else)

[cocoskeeper.livejournal.com]

I'm very curious about the first story... Actually, I'm so involved in writing and reading middle grade, I thought "thirtieth" said "thirteenth!" Then, once I realized my mistake, I became even more curious wondering what ADULTS would do with magic! Wonderful! Hope to see it on the shelves soon (me and you both, hmm? ;)).
Kelsey

[shalanna.livejournal.com]

Thanks for sayin' so. If only the gears of publishing didn't grind so slowly. That book has been written for a while and sat up at Tor for over a year . . . then got sent back . . . but then I was assured that was a mistake, and the full manuscript got asked for again. Haven't heard back from that second submission. So now it's sitting with an agent. The agent I'm waiting to hear back from is very active in the blogosphere. I don't know how they have time to do anything else, what with their publicity stuff and chats and weblog and convention visits . . . wow. But maybe they'll sit down and read it all sometime before the holidays.

My inspiration for _Miranda's Rights_ was "Bell, Book, and Candle." If you haven't seen that James Stewart/Kim Novak classic, catch it on TCM or check it out from the video store. I also have elements of "Love Potion #9" in the book, I think. (*grin*) And "Bewitched," the TV show. I always thought it was so neat that Samantha and company would just go along like it's normal that they can do this and that, whereas the Darrin contingent would be wigging out over it.

There's a cool middle grade novel that is KIND OF about a similar theme . . .without the romance and so forth. "Bras and Broomsticks." I haven't read it yet, but someone gave me the book and said I ought to read it. (grin) If you do read it, let me know how you like it. My stack of to-be-read is getting awfully tall.

[cocoskeeper.livejournal.com]

I just saw the movie, Bell, Book, and Candle! Loved it! And Bewitched was a favorite show of mine while growing up. :) I'll put Bras and Broomsticks on my Amazon.com wishlist. You're clearly getting somewhere with Miranda's Rights--one day you'll tell us all when we can expect its release!