Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Revised Entry 9 Lydia Sharp

Entry #9
SOCIAL GRACES
YA Contemp

Contact:
lydiasharp4sff (at) yahoo (dot) com

Pitch:

At the beginning of senior year, Rocklyn's family moves from the city to the boondocks, forcing her to start a new life when her old one had finally gotten semi-sorta good. Now she must come out as a lesbian all over again, at a school that's more straight-laced than her Doc Marten boots. Rocklyn just wants to survive this year, but along the way she makes new friends, falls in love, and finds the strength to confront an old enemy who discovers her new stomping grounds.

Second line of 1st paragraph:

I prefer to walk, to relish every step of my final trek across town.

First 250 words of 2nd chapter:

Sunday, August 20, 1995

I pass my sister, Candy, on the way downstairs. She's all sweaty from her daily morning run, which never accomplishes anything. She refuses to accept that she'll always have a baby pooch.

"Hey, slut," I say.

"Hey, dyke."

This is about as affectionate as it gets between us. At least we acknowledged each other.

The kitchen smells like a typical Sunday morning--coffee, maple syrup, and bacon grease. Dad's sipping from a mug and reading the Plain Dealer. Mom's fussing over Candy's brat in the high chair, trying to get him to stop throwing Cheerios at the stove while she's cooking. I'm pretty sure he hasn't cut any teeth yet, so why she gave him Cheerios is a mystery.

But everything Mom does is a mystery, really.

My five year-old brother, Jeremy (Mom's "change of life" baby), explodes into smiles when he sees me. I ruff up his hair then sit across from him, grab a plate of bacon and ignore the rest of the spread.

Dad bends the corner of his newspaper down just long enough to say, "Good morning, Rocklyn."

Sure it is. "What're you so happy about?" I ask Jeremy.

"We're moving!" He thrusts both hands in the air like he just scored a touchdown, then immediately goes back to wolfing down his pancakes.

"Don't remind me."

"Ring, ring!" Jeremy mimes picking up a telephone. "Oh hi, Snow White. You're looking for Grumpy? Yeah, hang on." He hands me his invisible phone. "It's for you."

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