I am so excited to have an entry in this year’s The Writer’s Voice! Off to enjoy the other contestants.
Dear Writers Voice Coaches,
Curiosity and secrets were ever Lillian’s downfall. When ancient rumors of what lies in the heart of Gold Mountain resurface, she’s even willing to team up with three classmates to discover the source, a revelation that will prove far more dangerous than she expects.
Lillian Pratt, the Pratt Brat, must reconsider every constant her life: her family heritage, her social standing, her worth as a young woman. With the help of her new friends, she will uncover a forgotten secret that is once again turning the small town of Gold Hill, nestled at the foot of Gold Mountain, into a community of nightmares and arguments. She will call on every resource at her disposal only to discover that her greatest resource lies within. Her new-found knowledge forces Lillian to decide if she will risk embracing her own truth (and secrets) to protect the people she’s come to love from an unspeakable evil.
If you are interested in Lillian’s journey, a literary young adult novel with a supernatural twist, I am happy to send the completed manuscript of 63,000 words. Set in a small town in Northern California in 1952, Recompense is the coming-of-age story of a self-imposed social outcast. Her tale might appeal to readers of The Secret Life of Bees and is unique in that it’s not about the monster but the responsibilities we embrace on behalf of those we love.
I write for corporate, non-profit, and educational websites in addition to having written essays and fiction for most of my life. I have led writers groups and remain active in a critique group. Recompense is my first novel submitted for representation. Thank you for your consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.
First 250 words:
Never let it be said the good citizens of Gold Hill didn’t try to provide their children with a way out. At least, that’s what Annual Career Day was supposed to accomplish. It’s not an easy task when the same handful of presenters made it a yearly outing, but already held the jobs in our town of twelve hundred. I think they got a free lunch out of it.
Chief Tucker’s droning voice irritated my ears like so many bees, and I rolled my eyes when he felt the need to tell us the two-man police department in sleepy Gold Hill needed more funding. It wasn’t as if we had anything resembling a crime rate. Even gossip was sleepy around here. As usual, he squeezed every drop of interest from the topic of law enforcement. I think even he was relieved when a hurried knock rattled the glass in the classroom door.
The chief went out into the hall, wedging his foot between the door and frame.
“There’s a tramp living up at the cave,” our principal’s voice echoed slightly in the corridor.
“Not likely, Herschel.” said the chief.
“Vincent just brought word. He was chasing a missing snare when he ran across the trail.”
“Well, shoot. I’ll head up there now. Nobody goes near that cave.”
“Maybe that old grizzly dealt with him.” The unexpected and ugly humor in our principal’s voice shocked the class into a low murmur. We strained forward as one.
“We can only hope,” muttered the chief.