Gabriela Lessa has announced a blog contest, and there aren't all that many entries yet. The judges are editors from Sourcebooks, so check it out. To be elegible, you need to follow her blog (which is very interesting) and sign up through a link provided on her post.
Now, to make my entries shine, I need feedback on the 30 word pitch sentence and the first paragraph of my stories. I post them here hoping you've got something to say about them.
Thanks in advance for your help,
The launching post went up!
Here are the three stories I'm going to enter:
I revised the pitch for Urchin King. Do you think it's clear now?
Title: Urchin King, YA historical fantasy
Despite an ancient law demanding the death of second born twins, street-urchin Paul battles a vengeful magician to save his life and his twin brother, the crown prince.
Paul felt the town's outer wall against his back. Hunger still gnawed at his intestines like a wolf and made sleeping impossible, but that was not new to him. He coped with the pain by remembering his lucky day two weeks back. Lilla had given him a whole loaf of bread, and he had been able to steal another later. He had shared the last, moldy slice two days ago. Now he wished he had more. He pulled his skinny legs closer until the pain subsided. Then, he sat up and looked at his friends sleeping on the bare ground beside him. All of them were skinny, unkempt and smelled of stale sweat and dirt.
Title: The tootle-hen and the goshawk, picture book
Grain wants to sing in the woods but she is too chicken to go alone, and when she follows a tiny bird, she must overcome her fear of the goshawk.
Grain loved to sing but the other tootle-hens hated it. The woods on the meadow's far end beckoned Grain to visit their lush green.
"The goshawk lives there. He will eat you," Aunty said.
Title: Terry and the Folding Rule of Time, MG historical fantasy with time travel
Twelve-year-old Terry time-travels to 1866 Germany, causing her great-great-grandfather to forget about emigration; now, she has to get him on his way to America, or her future will vanish forever.
Second bell for science -- I hated old Bodger on the best of days but most of all on a Monday morning. I slammed the door of my locker hard enough that it bounced open again. Chewing on a strand of my straw-colored bangs, I closed my locker more gently and sauntered to our classroom. I looked forward to old Bodger’s face when he plopped onto a cold, wet chair. I smiled a little. Not too much. That would alert him, and he’d guess right away it was me who snuck into class before first bell. I eased into my chair, stretching my gangly legs, feeling smug and satisfied until the door opened.