Son of a Pitch Entry: Dylan

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Title: Dylan
Category and Genre: Literary Fiction/Magical Realism
Word Count: 70K
Query: 
A FORREST GUMP meets PRACTICAL MAGIC tale.

Most everyone in the family calls Dylan “slow.” Worse, his abusive mother claims he’s wicked. He might not think fast, and it takes him awhile to form the words he wants, but Dylan has magic. He can spin marbles from oyster shells, and whip up Chicken Alfredo by tapping his thumbs together. In fact, he hopes to be a famous chef someday and put his magic to good use. Right now, the only one to appreciate his supernatural abilities is his loving uncle and caretaker, a disabled Vietnam veteran. When Uncle Jim dies, Dylan’s Aunt Agnes sells the house the two lived in, and ships Dylan off to an adult boarding home. There Dylan meets an equally gifted but troubled young lady named Liona.

With a rocky beginning, Dylan finally finds a friend in Liona whose mind-reading abilities makes it easier for him to communicate. Just when he settles into his new life a precious gift from his deceased uncle is destroyed. Despondent, Dylan flees to the beach and the oyster beds where he feels most at home, and where his magical empowerment comes from. His old Vietnamese friend, Tim Lan offers him a room in his shanty in exchange for his magically-made pearls. Dylan is tormented by the suspect requests of Tim Lan, for the old man takes his pearls to town and they mysteriously disappear. He’s muddled by his feelings for Liona for he’s never had a girlfriend before. His nightmare ensues when his drug addicted mother, who had once washed her hands of him, returns to exploit his gifts. He’s never stood up to her, and he risks losing everything he’s worked for - his relationship with Liona, with Tim Lan, and any hopes of independence - if he lets her destroy him.

250 Words:

By the time I was eighteen I didn’t care what Aunt Agnes said about me. I was happy. I had the two things that I needed most. Uncle Jim, and magic.

“He doesn’t connect the dots right,” Aunt Agnes complained to my cousin Shirley the night she drove me and Uncle Jim home from my graduation ceremony. My cousin always sat in front whenever we went anywhere. 
Shirley looked over her shoulder at me and scoffed while Aunt Agnes kept talking. “He can’t carry on a civil conversation. In fact, I don’t know if he is past the third-grade level of reading.”

I rolled my eyes. But Uncle Jim growled and then went into a coughing fit. He didn’t say anything though. How could he? He was facing the back of the van sitting in a wheel chair behind me. Once we got home, Aunt Agnes lowered the lift, and Uncle Jim steam-rolled into the house. I followed him inside with Aunt Agnes at my heels. Uncle Jim threw his baseball cap on the couch, and grumbled something fierce, maneuvering his chair through the litter in our living room. I could see a fight coming because Aunt Agnes and Uncle Jim fought a lot. Usually about me. I appreciated his support, but I didn’t like him yelling. The noise reminded me of my mother and the wicked years. I dodged into my room and waited for Aunt Agnes to leave, holding my hands over my ears until the front door slammed.

Son of a Pitch Entry: The Ramblin' Hand of Sherry Anne

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Title: THE RAMBLIN' HAND OF SHERRY ANNE
Category and Genre: Adult / Literary
Word Count: 92,500

Query:

Seventeen-year-old Sherry Anne Maes is a hand-shakin’, good-luck-givin' girl. Born with a literal rabbit’s foot attached to her hipbone, her palm contains the power to bestow good luck to those she chooses.

But unfortunately, using that luck to save her cancer-riddled father is another story. And when he dies, he not only leaves Sherry with a grudge against her handshake, but he truth-bombs her with a long-kept secret about her birth. Suddenly, she feels like an outsider, a dumpster baby no one wants, and so Sherry gets the hell out of her hometown and gets highway bound via Buick Skylark.

Traveling across the US of A, Sherry tries to outrun the gift of her good luck, while working to unravel clues about her past left behind in her father's letters. Letters which eventually lead her to Tennessee where she learns that she is not alone in the world. That there are others out there like her, those called Weirdos.

Curious to connect with her own kind, Sherry hitches a ride with her boot-knockin'-boy Catch Shepard, lead singer of a busking bluegrass band. However, her efforts to track down her fellow Weirdos are derailed when Sherry discovers one of her past handshakes has gone wrong and an innocent person has died. To save another from the same fate, she must rush against time, fight a meddling cocaine-addled fiddle player, and right the good luck she has pressed to the wrong person, even if it means letting her own luck—and life—run out.

First 250 Words:

I was born fur on fire.

Fourth of July morning, a full moon high in the sky good enough to howl at, my little town of Mariah, Montana went insane. Because I came into this world with a rabbit’s foot attached to my hipbone.

Small and floppy, this furry extra appendage dangled off my right side, high up, an afterthought like one of those unwanted skin flaps old people get. A silky gray-brown pelt dotted with small orbs of pearly white. Cushy pink pads on the bottom of a dainty paw. An honest-to-god rabbit’s foot.

I’ve got photos as evidence. In the faded, grainy prints taken by hospital staff, the foot’s tiny, about a pinkie-length, and pretty in an odd holy-shit-this-shouldn’t-be- possible kind of way. Like babies born with vestigial tails or cutaneous horns. And at least those conditions have been documented throughout history. Medical anomalies which have an explanation for the skin-covered bundle of nerves and tissue buried beneath the flesh of the afflicted. So far, science tells me I’m the first in history to be born with something that should only be carried on a key chain. Sold at dirty truck stop gas stations along with a pack of KOOLS and Astroglide.

 I’ve got the foot too.

Local doctors removed it a week after my birth. Snipped it off with great big medical scissors and stitched up my hip, leaving behind a four-inch raised scar. Today the scar resembles braided white twine coiled on my bony hipbone and ending near the top of my waist.

Review: Night of Pan by Gail Strickland

From Goodreads:
The slaughter of the Spartan Three Hundred at Thermopylae, Greece 480 BCE—when King Leonidas tried to stop the Persian army with only his elite guard—is well known. But just what did King Xerxes do after he defeated the Greeks?

Fifteen-year-old Thaleia is haunted by visions: roofs dripping blood, Athens burning. She tries to convince her best friend and all the villagers that she’s not crazy. The gods do speak to her.

And the gods have plans for this girl.

When Xerxes’ army of a million Persians marches straight to the mountain village Delphi to claim the Temple of Apollo’s treasures and sacred power, Thaleia’s gift may be her people’s last line of defense.

Her destiny may be to save Greece...
...but is one girl strong enough to stop an entire army?


My Thoughts:
Night of Pan is a fascinating tale about the Oracle of Delphi and her rise to her position during a tumultuous and well renowned time of Greek history. It follows Thaleia as she runs from her wedding and meets the god Pan. This meeting changes the course of her life as she soon comes to realize she is the mouthpiece of the gods, and has the ability to potentially save Greece from the Persians.
This is not a YA read, it's definitely more adult with the heavy internal dialogue and overly flowery language. Although it's not as "mature" as an adult book, I think young readers could easily get bored and distracted by the lack of action verses the heavy description and lyrical language. In my opinion, it feels like I've walked into a high school history class, and while some teens might love this, I think the majority won't. This "heavy" writing, although beautiful and poetic, makes the pace slow. The story doesn't get to the actual war until after halfway through the novel. *spoiler*
Being a history nerd, I wasn't surprised by her youthful engagement to a considerably older man. This goes along with supporting the rest of the historical aspects in showing accuracy and establishing how different the setting is to our modern culture. I can't fault the history. But the fact that Thaleia ran away from the arrangement shows how reckless she is, and how she refuses to conform, a potentially dangerous trait in her time. In fact, it made me struggle to place her in that time. She feels too much like a modern day high school girl, whereas culturally the norm would be for her to be ready to marry and be a mother. This, among other examples of Thaleia's behavior, clashes with how historically accurate the rest of the book reads. It's like a contemporary YA character has been placed into a thesis or journal. Separately they are great, but together it's a bit jarring.
As I said, the writing is beautiful, and imagery colorful. It tells a well known tale from history through a new perspective.

Blog Tour: The Traveler’s Wake by J.P. Moynahan

Date of Release­­: July 31, 2014

Cover Artist: Michelle Johnson at Blue Sky Design

Description:

Wesley Rourke is a mouthy, Irish-lucky millionaire, trotting the globe in search of the perfect place to kill his most hated enemy, himself. Blowing his money on charity, and booze as he zooms from city to city, he lays his course towards Lima, Peru.

Once he arrives, he sets about his grisly task only to be inconvenienced by the lure of a pretty young tourist, the daughter of a prominent British lawmaker.

A few days after their first date, he awakens in a hospital to find her missing and he himself embroiled in a media blitz and massive manhunt. With time running out, and wracked with horrifying night-terrors, Wesley is forced to face his past cowardice and wade into the bowels of a pitiless underworld in search of his one ray of hope.

The city of Lima awaits him.

Find The Traveler’s Wake Online:

Goodreads | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

 About J.P. Moynahan:

I’m a wilderness guide and mountaineer, musician and poet. I’ve climbed all over North and South America, and played my music throughout. From mission’s work in Mexico, to clinking beers with toothless Canadians, and onto climbing an Andean glacier, I enjoy whatever comes my way.

I’m a mouthy sort with a quick tongue and an even quicker grin. Most folks hate me for the first seven minutes, then fall right in love with my winning personality and straight-toothed smile.

Though I harbor a strong sense of independence, I believe in the strength of a supportive community and tight knit family. I enjoy working with youth and young adults and showing them that staying out of jail isn’t so hard and can even be fun. But I’m not a goody-two-shoes, my head isn’t anywhere near my ass, much less in it.

Find J.P. Moynahan Online:

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