Fenced in

Every now and then I feel guilty because of the amount of time I don't spend spreading my writerly wings.

A roadtrip in the country last weekend, however, supplied ample inspiration for other projects.

Here's a piece of one such endeavor, sparked by this photo I took on my Sunday drive.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I plant my foot on the ground. A cloud of dust curls upward, leaving a heavy layer of earth on the toes of my boots.

"I don't think you should do this." His voice sounds out-of-place, like a wrong note in the symphony of nature.

I shield my eyes, squinting as I raise my face to him; he's no more than a shadow against the backlight of the afternoon sun.

My response lodges in the back of my throat: He told me I have to. I turn my back.

Heat rises from the sleek coat of my mare as I gather her reins and hand them over.

Forcing a rough breath, I ignore the squeal of the rusty hinge as the door sways in the wind.

"Promise you won't leave me here?"

His gelding stamps and grunts, nuzzling the neck of my horse. He leans forward, patting the animal as he says, "I promise."

I know it's a lie.

Have you been inspired recently?

Hook, Line & Sinker Part II: Revenge of the Query Hook

We have a winner!

Well, OK, I have what I believe might be a winner. I finally came up with a hook line for my query with which I feel comfortable.

But before I get to that, I have some really great links regarding query letters I'd like to share with other writers struggling to pen the perfect query. (In case you haven't stumbled upon them already.)

These are the blog posts and blog sites that have helped me. Hopefully they can do the same for you.


First and foremost, anyone writing a query needs to visit Query Shark.

As the Query Shark, literary agent Janet Reid plays the Simon Cowell of the literary world, explaining to readers exactly what's wrong with the queries that readers have submitted to her.

Nathan Bransford with Curtis Brown LTD has posted some must-reads on crafting an awesome query.

Anatomy of a Good Query Part I offers an example of a query that caught his eye.

In Anatomy of a Good Query Part II, Nathan breaks down what catches his eye and spurs him to request a partial.

But for those of you who think you know everything there is to know about writing a query, the post Nathan did on dead cliches is query letters is a MUST READ. Don't just read his post. Peruse the comments here, too, because many other agents chimed in with their dead cliche peeves.

The Query Tracker, which has a wealth of information by writers for writers, offers some great tips on compiling your query list in this post.

Query Tracker also delves into the three parts of a query beginning with this post.

And if you're looking for feedback from other writers on your query, the writer Rick Daley's blog The Public Query Slushpile might be just for you.

NOW, I here it is, my new and improved hookline for my query.

"It's hard to run away when you're stumbling in daddy's footsteps."
(15 syllables No I can't count, as a matter of fact, that's why I'm a writer.) Although I stretched outside some of my self-imposed hook-writing guidelines, I pinned the voice I'd been trying to capture. I figured it was a fair trade. :-) Do you think I traded up?

So, how about you? Are there any posts by other agents or writers that have helped you hone your query?

Backstory

I've been a little thin on the posts lately because I've been so busy at work.

When you write news stories for a living, sometimes it's difficult to pivot your mind to climb inside a character's head. The same is true when you take a long vacation, do nothing but write fiction for an entire week, and then try to write news stories again.

That's what happened over my Christmas break last year. I had nine days off from work. During that time, I decided to get a little farther into my character's head by writing some scenes from the backstory. I'd recently added a character to the book, which changed the dynamics in some of Heather's (my MC) relationships. I needed to figure out where, when, how and why events in her life occurred to put her where she is at the opening chapter.

So, what I've decided to do is take some of the best snippets from that backstory and post them here. They were merely attempts to hone my craft. So, feel free to offer opinions, critiques, glorious reviews (hehe) or whatever in the comments.

************************************************************

Scene set up: Seventeen-year-old Heather and her sweetheart, Chris, have just made probably the biggest mistake of their lives. The rest is pretty self-explanatory.

“I’m sorry, Heather.” Chris Carsen’s apology sounds sheepish. As he sits behind the steering wheel of his old man’s pickup, I realize he hasn’t yet grown into the man I just made him. “I meant to pull out.”

My guts burn with worry. On the couch at his parents’ house, he presented only arguments for losing our virginity to each other: “We’ve been together a long time.” “We’re getting married in May.” “It’s gonna feel so good.” “I love you so much.” He never mentioned a downside, and I managed to mute those voices, too.

Now they scream at me: “You’re only seventeen, and if he got you pregnant, the next five months will be the longest of your life.”

If father finds out, his hands will do more than dole out the beatings to which I’m accustomed. He will kill me. And probably Chris, too.

“I’m way past my curfew.” Reaching for the door handle, my eyes avoid Chris. He broke his promise; I have no desire to be near him now.

Contrition resounds in his voice as he calls my name, but the slamming door makes it easy for me to pretend I can’t hear him. Chris won’t follow me; he’s seen the strength of my father’s fists.

I slip through the front door of the story-and-a-half farmhouse where my nightmares become frequent reality. Father’s truck sits cockeyed in the snow-covered lane; New Year’s Eve provides a good cover for me. Certainly, making love to Cutty Sark took him out of commission before everyone else welcomed 1975.

Catching a glimpse of my own reflection in the bathroom mirror, I realize I’ve been crying. Vague tracks of mascara tell a story I don’t want anyone to hear. I wash them away and brush my teeth before combing my long, red tresses. All the while, I ignore the uncomfortable sting Chris created between my legs and wonder how my friends think it’s pleasurable or mind-blowing or erotic.

It’s uncomfortable. And awkward. And gross.

A heavy-handed knock scares away the silence after I resolve not to let Chris touch me like that again.

“Where the hell have you been all night, Heather Marie?”

While I curse my noisy bedtime routine for pulling my father from his whisky-induced coma, my eyes scan the room for a cover story. I yank a dirty housecoat from the hamper and ignore the stench of sweat and diesel as I slip my arms in the sleeves.

“Asleep.” My voice feigns an air of lethargy for which I congratulate myself. “I’m just getting a drink and going to the bathroom.” I drop my jeans and toss them into the hamper but recoil at the blood stain in the crotch of my panties. I fold them to hide the spot and tie the bathrobe to disguise the blouse I’m still wearing before opening the door.

Father’s gray eyes look through me. His proximity to the door frightens me.

“Do . . .do you need in here?” The tremor in my voice tells him I'm weak.

Instead of answering my question, he pushes past me and forces me out of the room. On any other night, his brash treatment would send me into a spiral of depression that would make me lie awake and wonder why he doesn’t love me. But I already know the answer, and tonight, I have other worries to burden my mind.