Edit My Query Letter

Good morning, my lovelies.  I have a challenge for all of my readers, or  the ones that care to comment.  Below you will see my query letter that I hope to get out to a few literary agents this week.  Provided that my letter is actually decent.  I wrote on Escaping the Inkwell that I had a goal of submitting a couple query letters by my birthday.  Since my birthday fell on the weekend, I am fudging the actual time of letters being sent out.

Digressing some, but in regards to birthdays, think about this.  “Have you realized that your age is the number of times you’ve been around the sun?”  I read this on Tumblr earlier today.  What a motivating, exciting and well just thought provoking idea.  I’ve done my fair share of traveling having gone around the sun 31 times.  How many miles is that?  Well, in one year I travel 585 million miles.  Whew, I don’t even want to add that up.  It’s a bit astounding to think that I have ‘technically’ traveled that many miles.

Anyways, back to my query letter.  Feel free to take a harsh look at it as I will take each idea and play around with my letter.  I just need an outside opinion.  Does this make you want to read the manuscript?  If not, then I need to work on the letter.  If you would rather not leave comments, feel free to email me at  [kate_wordpress@hotmail.com]

Here goes:

Dear Blank,

I am querying you along with one other agency in the hopes that I have something to pique your interest.

When a girl loves hats as much as Lulu does, she has to have one for every occasion.  However, out of all the hats Lulu owns, she is lacking a fancy hat to wear when she goes out for ice cream on Sundays.  Lulu enlists the help of her best friend, Mimi, and the two of them scour the city looking for the perfect hat.  From large floppy hats to tiny ones that look incredibly silly, Lulu tries on everything without any luck.  Some hats are too big and others are too expensive.  Just when Lulu and Mimi are about to give up and go home, they spot one last shop they haven’t tried.  Does Lulu find her hat?  Of course! Because a girl has to have a hat for every occasion.

Lulu Buys A Hat is an unillustrated picture book complete at 1089 words, geared towards little girls, which is clear from the hat theme.  Hats are one of those quintessential items girls seem to naturally love, so I chose to write about a girl finding a hat after the experience of looking for my own hat.

I have been writing various things for 15 years, including managing two blogs, however I choose to write children’s fiction as a career, drawing from experiences in life.  I also draw on years of reading picture book at my home, grandparents, and many trips to the library.  While I want there to be the fanciful quality, I also like stories to have some realism included. Something a child can relate to when they read.

So, there you have it.  Again, I am open to any suggestion you want to give.  And thank you for taking the time to read this.

Signing off

~Kate

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Pin Curls – Flash Fiction

Old postcard of Mount Shasta

Hello my lovlies.  (I have seen other girl bloggers use that term and it’s so cute)

As you read this, I am off to the wilds of Mount Shasta.  Okay, not actually the mountain as it is covered in snow, but the city below.  I hope it will be a sunny clear day so I might be able to snap a shot or two of the mountain.

I was puttering around with an idea so here is a smidge of flash fiction to start you off on a Monday.  A bit of back story; I love pin curls, and I love putting my hair up in pin curls.  I’ve yet to master it, in fact I usually come out looking like a cross between a poodle and a fight with an electrical socket.  Not a pretty picture.  But I do try and I hope someday I might have them tamed when I do them.  So, there I was, picturing one of my heroines, Rena Bliss, putting up her hair in pin curls.

Enjoy.

She sat at her vanity putting up her hair in pin curls.  She wore a filmy white and pale blue concoction of a summer nightgown; more slip than anything else, though everything essential was modestly covered.  Her glasses were perched o the end of her nose and she frowned intently as she carefully rolled her blond hair up, securing the curl with two bobby pins.

Milo watching in fascination as Rena sectioned and rolled.  She had this perfect set up, her brushes and combs laid out in front of her, spritz bottles of setting lotions and grooming sprays, her bobby pins and other clips in miss matched teacup saucers.  There was a little click and rattle of metal against porcelain every time Rena pulled one out of the dish, then a flash of white teeth as she pried open the pin and jammed it into the curl.  Sometimes she would stop mid curl to take a sip of tea from her pale teal polka-dot teacup.  One hand held the curl in place while the other lifted the cup to lips that were full and very pink.

Rena was pure femininity.  The movements she made, the clothes she wore, down to her pale pink fingernails, she was ultra girl.  Which was funny since country life was hardly conducive to all the girly things about her.  But that’s what made her such a fascination to Milo.  And watching her put up her hair; well that just sealed the deal. 

Pretty, flirty, and sexy as hell.  Yeah, she was a dream girl.

Signing off

~Kate

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Springtime, French, and Should I Write About It

English: Dirty Weather Over Hagg Wood Not quite the May weather I had in mind for my walk. From the path above Swinburn’s Park (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I set about to walk to town yesterday and it was a lovely walk, albeit a bit on the blustery side.  For some reason, I always manage to walk when the nastier weather is coming down the mountainside.  Yesterday was no exception.  Fortunately I had my cloche hat on, though it did require me pushing it down squarely several times due to a brisk wind.

As I walked, I had a selection of French music playing on my mp3 player.  There is something about spring, wind, rain and French music that just goes together. The old adage of springtime in Paris perhaps?  Whatever the reason, Zaz’s La Pluie was tres parfait for the moment.  I highly recommend the song.

As I walked I contemplated on how the weather was perfect for something to write about.  Have you ever noticed that right at the height of a season, you are so immersed in it that you must write about it?  And yes, even though it is right at the ‘first of spring’ we are smack dab in the middle of it.  Spring started back in February when just the start of things came out.  I’ve only come to this realization after reading Liza Dalby‘s East Wind Melts the Ice, which I commented on just the other day.

But seriously, when you are at the height of the season, you just want two immerse yourself in it and kind of wallow.  I feel that way in the summer when it’s hot and muggy, or when that summer storm comes through with all it’s ravaging brilliance of a thunderstorm.  The lightning and thunder, the oppressive moisture cloying the air and pressing down.  Or in autumn when the leaves swirl around you as you walk home.  The all consuming desire to wear plaid and eat apples while carrying a pumpkin home to carve.

Okay, it might be just me, but seasons, weather and nature are very important to me.  They impress upon me not unlike music.  It’s all very important to me and my writing.  So, now I have to add or write something about walking in the blustery weather, wearing a cloche hat and French music playing….. Funny thing, all but for the French music thing, I started something last year that highlighted some of that. I just never finished it.

Typical.

Signing off

~Kate

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Wordless Wednesdays. Cool!

Okay, so this is a new phenom on the internet.  Wordless Wednesday.  Sorry if I’m behind the times. I don’t always pay attention to the new stuff out for blogging.

For those not in the know…. Like I was ten minutes ago.  Wordless Wednesday = On Wednesdays all over the internet, bloggers post a photograph with no words to explain it on their blog. Hence the ‘wordless’ title. The idea is that the photo itself says so much that it doesn’t need any description.

Ooooooh. I like it.  So, I shall have to give it a try.

Signing off

~Kate

Scenes With Musical Inspiration

I first heard about using music to inspire a story when I read all about Stephenie Meyer’s account of writing the Twilight Saga.  While I have always enjoyed music and certain songs make me think of writing a story, I had never put music to a scene like they do in a movie.  Since reading Stephenie Meyer’s account though, I have really used music to instil a character, a scene, a story into my mind.  Where a song becomes the character’s song.  A song becomes the story.

For instance, a novel/romance I started  several years ago about a girl running a bookstore all came from Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Bookends’ song.  Not even the ‘Old Friends’, though I do adore that song as well since it is part of ‘Bookends’, but just the one song. There is no specific reason for that, other than books = Bookends kind of theme.  But, that song is stuck in my head for that.

Recently, as in just this last week and last night a song and scene fit together almost so perfectly I’m slightly amazed.  I would like all you reader’s input. Whether you agree or not, I’d love to know if you think the music I chose fits with the scene I’ll include below.  Kind of like watching a movie and you hear that one song that just fits perfectly with the scene.  The ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ at the end of You’ve Got Mail.  Or the ‘Northern Sky’ by Nick Drake at the end of Serendipity.  (pardon to the guys who may or may not have watched these chick flicks)

The song of choice is from a new band my father found, The Paper Kites.  The song: “Willow Tree March”. You can hear the song below.

And here is the scene. I’ve mentioned Rena and Owen before, if you’ve read some of my flash fiction.  Here they are at it again, only this time, a kiss. Enjoy and I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Rena reached up to hug Owen, pausing as she noticed that he was covered in sawdust and chainsaw oil.  He glanced down and grimaced, but she put her arms around him anyway, hugging him close, not worrying about the grime.  As she pulled away, her eyes rose to his and in that moment she wondered why she had always pulled away from him in every way. She saw the flecks of gold in his blue eyes, the intensity that had always been there, but she had shied away from it.

She moistened her lower lip and as his eyes followed the movement they both moved in one motion. He leaned down and she tipped back her head as his mouth settled on hers, closed and just pressing. It wasn’t passionate and it wasn’t spectacular, but when she pulled back and staggered for a moment, she had to grab his arm to steady herself.

“Mmm. Hmm,” Rena hummed a frown forming and wrinkling her nose.  “Could you, uh, try that again?”

Owen’s arm wrapped around her lower back and he tipped her more until for a moment it felt like her world fell away.  She slid her hand around the back of his neck and held on , clutching his neck, as his mouth settled back on hers.  The tingle started and traveled up her back as his mouth pressed gently.  Before he could pull away, Rena gripped his neck firmly and opened her lips to him.  

Rena almost smiled as she felt Owen change his stance to hold her closer as his mouth moved over hers with staggering results.  Her hands clung to him, holding him as close to her as she could.  She cupped his rough cheek with her left hand, her fingers lightly brushing the stubble, while her other hand slid up into his damp hair at the nape of his neck. 

He tasted of pine and the woods.  The hot summer sun beat down on them as the heady, intoxicating smell of pine resin swirled around them, baking and making their temperatures rise. A symphony of sensations assailed Rena’s senses. He smelled like the sawdust and chainsaw oil, of sweat and summer sunshine.  He was pure nature.  His mouth was warm and so soft on hers, his lips moving over hers sipping and tasting her as if she were a glass of brandy.  And around them the buzzing of bees and insects in the meadow combined with the dying of a chainsaw on the edge of the clearing.  A sudden silence that was deafening.

Rena heard a moan then realized that it was her as Owen deepened the kiss.  He tasted her and settled firmly on her mouth.  She couldn’t get enough; it was too much.  She felt as if she could crawl into his skin; she felt like she needed to shove him away and take off all her clothes that were binding her too tight.  Her fingers fluttered on his skin in panic and he gave her space, his face burying into her neck.  

They gasped for breath, heaving against each other, clinging.  His arms were wrapped around her holding her as if she were a lifeline, while she clung to him, pressing her body as close as she could get.

She felt devistated.  Like her world had come crashing down before sending her in a rush to the stars.   Dazed, confused, aroused.  She was a bundle of nerves.  It was stimulus overload.  She shuddered, but couldn’t pull away. 

It was the whistling catcalls that jolted them both back to reality.  They were far from alone.  Instead, they stood in the center of the clearing, the center of attention, a show almost, to the guys cutting with Owen.  Rena turned a bright red and buried her face in Owen’s shirt, mortified.  Not because it was Owen, but she hated being the center of attention.  She would never live this down. Word would get around.

But then Owen’s fingers tilted her chin to look up at him and as he smiled, she forgot again where she was.  She wanted his mouth on hers again, and she knew he knew it.  Finally, they were in sync.

Well, again, I would love feedback.  I doubt this will every go anywhere, but hey, I love tapping out things.

Signing off

~Kate