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Son of a Pitch round two has begun! This week my blog will be dedicated to the authors of these amazing entries.

Comments are for the Son of a Pitch critiquers and authors only! All other comments will be deleted, them’s the rules peeps.

At the end of the week, I will vote for my favorites…I think five…I should check that.

Onward!

Welcome to Team Rarity!

Entry 8:

TitleSalvation

Category and Genre: Adult, Suspense/Thriller

Word Count: 75,000

Query:

Small town journalist Tom Coster is chasing a story 30 years in the making. The story: The untold events that went on behind the doors of now-shuttered Salvation Home for Wayward Children. Tom, however, has a hidden motive behind the article he wants to print. He hopes the story draws out his cousin, Dianna Lane, who disappeared from the troubled teen home those 30 long years ago, or the person he suspects kidnapped her; The former owner of the compound, Marcus Taylor, who went off the grid around the same time.

The further Tom digs the more attention he gains, and from those who would rather Salvation Home’s troubled past remain out of the public eye. It becomes clear to him the depths of depravity those who come after him will sink to. After all, the narratives people weave for God to be on their side have no boundaries when it comes to madness.

First 250 Words:

At first, the icy steel floor was a welcome reprieve. Then her bleeding welts began to scream.

“Esther, git off th’ floor.” the man standing over her demanded. “Y’ain’t gon’ bleed t’ death. Y’got ten mo’ah swats comin’.” She looked up at him, looked him in the face, and found a gaze that was unrepentant and just as cold as the floor. “Esther” struggled, her legs shivering as she made the attempt to stand.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “please…Brother M-Marcus, no more…”

“Shut it, girl.” the man said. “Assume th’ position, an’ repeat Proverbs 23:13.” “Esther” did as told, despite her body pleading for her not to go through with it.

“W-withhold not c-cor—agh!” she screamed, as the cane, a twisted and evil implement, came across one of her already opened wounds. She could feel the wood, jagged and tattered from years of use, cut into the back of her legs. Another strike, and she doubled over, doing her best not to vomit from the pain.

“Don’ you get sick all ovuh, child.” Marcus growled. “Eight mo’ah, then we git you all nice an’ cleaned up.” He chuckled, and his attempt to make it sound light-hearted instead turned it into the most soul-crushing sound in the world. “Now, git up, and git back into position!”

But “Esther” couldn’t manage it. Her body wouldn’t obey. Once before she had been in a similar situation: Her back tensed, the scars there already beginning to hurt through sympathy.

Now for my thoughts.

But first, a reminder, I am not an expert. I am a writer. My comments are my opinions. If any of these strange wordy things that pop into my brain and onto the page make sense for YOUR ms and makes YOUR writer’s brain spin with all the inspiration, YEA!!! Use them…run with them…let your creative brain go! If reading one of my insanely odd thoughts just makes you shrug and sparks no new idea, forget it! YEA!

I am here to help YOU make YOUR ms the best it can be. I do not want to rewrite it. I do not want it to be something else. Your words should be yours. I WANT TO HAVE A GREAT TIME!

Feel free to ask questions. Feel free to post any rewrites in the comments. I will be happy to answer anything and read revisions! Anything I can do to help get the creative juices flowing.

CRITIQUE:

Query:

Small town journalist Tom Coster is chasing a story 30 years in the making. The story: The untold events that went on behind the doors of now-shuttered Salvation Home for Wayward Children. Tom, however, has a hidden motive behind the article he wants to print. He hopes the story draws out his cousin, Dianna Lane, who disappeared from the troubled teen home those 30 long years ago, or the person he suspects kidnapped her; The former owner of the compound, Marcus Taylor, who went off the grid around the same time. (Nice! Good set up. I wonder why? Why is he so committed to finding the answers?)

The further Tom digs the more attention he gains, and from those who would rather Salvation Home’s troubled past remain out of the public eye. (Give me what they do to stop him. Give me what obstacles he faces, details that will stand out and be remembered.) It becomes clear to him the depths of depravity those who come after him will sink to. (this is vague) After all, the narratives people weave for God to be on their side have no boundaries when it comes to madness. (an interesting line, but it doesn’t give me what he faces, it doesn’t give me the moment he faces a big choice, it doesn’t give me the stakes. What happens if he uncovers the truth? Is there a moment when he thinks that maybe he shouldn’t?)

First 250 Words:

At first, the icy steel floor was a welcome reprieve. Then her bleeding welts began to scream. (Nice!)

“Esther, git off th’ floor.” the man standing over her demanded. “Y’ain’t gon’ bleed t’ death. Y’got ten mo’ah swats comin’.”

(New para) She looked up at him, looked him in the face, and found a gaze that was unrepentant and just as cold as the floor. “Esther” (Love the name in parentheses!) struggled, her legs shivering as she made the attempt to stand. (Any sights, sounds, smells to add a bit to the scene? What is she wearing?)

“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “please…Brother M-Marcus, no more…”

“Shut it, girl.” the man said.(what does he look like?) “Assume th’ position, an’ repeat Proverbs 23:13.” “Esther” did as told, despite her body pleading for her not to go through with it. (With what? What is the position?)

“W-withhold not c-cor—agh!” she screamed, as the cane, a twisted and evil implement, came across one of her already opened wounds. She could feel the wood, jagged and tattered from years of use, cut into the back of her legs. Another strike, and she doubled over, doing her best not to vomit from the pain.

“Don’ you get sick all ovuh, child.” Marcus growled. “Eight mo’ah, then we git you all nice an’ cleaned up.” He chuckled, and his attempt to make it sound light-hearted instead turned it into the most soul-crushing sound in the world. “Now, git up, and git back into position!”

But “Esther” couldn’t manage it. Her body wouldn’t obey. Once before she had been in a similar situation: Her back tensed, the scars there already beginning to hurt through sympathy.

*Oh my heavens! Someone needs to get this Marcus guy and possibly, maybe murder him. Yup. This is not what I expected after the query…In the query I only heard of Tom, so I am a little thrown. But I realize this is the possibly the past, possibly what happened to the lost cousin Tom searches for. Is this a prologue?

I hope some of that, maybe just one little thing, helps!

Thank you so much for being a part of Son of a Pitch!

Thank you for sharing your words!

And may the road of revising and querying and publishing be a great one!

Be sure to join us on Twitter! #SonofaPitch is super fun! #TeamRarity rocks!

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