When orders come to evacuate Lake George due to rising flood waters, Bea Pearl sees her brother, Jim, head toward the river. She follows him. What happens next takes her six months to remember as only she returns. But when her own parents don’t acknowledge his disappearance, she’s determined to discover how and why he vanished and prove to everyone he’s still alive. Because if he can disappear, can she too? Now she might actually be going crazy because she’s also questioning the reality of things from swamp monkeys to a mysterious boy who may only exist because of a botched séance. As her search progresses, she realizes she must unearth the truth surrounding her presumed dead brother, not just to reunite her crumbling family, but for the sake of her own sanity.
My manuscript is similar in tone to THE SECRET LIFE OF BEES with the unknowing, mystery aspect of THE UNBECOMING OF MARA DYER.
First 250:
My manuscript is similar in tone to THE SECRET LIFE OF BEES with the unknowing, mystery aspect of THE UNBECOMING OF MARA DYER.
First 250:
I haven’t said my brother’s name out loud since Momma hit me with a catfish. I ran out of the kitchen, wide-eyed, holding the dead fish and my bloody arm. When I found Daddy, he rubbed the fish’s slime on the puncture wound to help with the pain. The throbbing dimmed to a dull ache. My throat remained too tight, holding back my tears. He warned me never to mention my brother around Momma again.
As I say his name into the phone receiver, it tastes like that sweet moment caramel goes from hard to chewy. “Jim.” It’s a short name. I try to savor the way my teeth click and lips touch.
“Yeah, Jim Montgomery. Is he there?”
I don’t recognize the voice, maybe because I’m more focused on the echo of my missing brother’s name in my head. “No.” It comes out as a whisper. I clear my throat. “No, Jim’s not here.” I just want another excuse to say his name out loud. As if saying it aloud will bring him home.
“Can I leave a message? When will he be back?”
I cradle the phone on my shoulder and rub the little puckered scar on my forearm. Even though the surrounding skin is tan, it remains stark white. “I don’t know.” I hang up as the wooden creak of a floorboard behind me makes me jump.
Daddy winks at me as he enters the kitchen with an empty coffee cup in hand.
As I say his name into the phone receiver, it tastes like that sweet moment caramel goes from hard to chewy. “Jim.” It’s a short name. I try to savor the way my teeth click and lips touch.
“Yeah, Jim Montgomery. Is he there?”
I don’t recognize the voice, maybe because I’m more focused on the echo of my missing brother’s name in my head. “No.” It comes out as a whisper. I clear my throat. “No, Jim’s not here.” I just want another excuse to say his name out loud. As if saying it aloud will bring him home.
“Can I leave a message? When will he be back?”
I cradle the phone on my shoulder and rub the little puckered scar on my forearm. Even though the surrounding skin is tan, it remains stark white. “I don’t know.” I hang up as the wooden creak of a floorboard behind me makes me jump.
Daddy winks at me as he enters the kitchen with an empty coffee cup in hand.
This is really well written. I enjoyed reading it! Good luck!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteCongrats!! Ms. Claire Anderson-Wheeler would love to see your full manuscript! Please send to Claire (at) regal-literary (dot) com with "requested MS" in the subject line.
ReplyDeleteAwesome!!
DeleteLove your pitch! Best of luck!
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
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