Pitch Workshop - Miranda's 63k YA Horror

Pitch Workshop - Miranda's 63k YA Horror

Welcome to the Pitch Workshop with Brenda Drake, Shelley Watters, and me!

Here's how we're going to play: 

Every day for the net ten days, each of us will be posting two pitches/150 word excerpts from the brave participants to our blogs. We will provide a critique, and then all of you, if you would like, can also critique the entry in the comments.

My rules if you are going to critique: Be nice. Provide constructive criticism. Don't just say, "this sucks" or "this isn't working for me." Instead, say what exactly isn't working and offer a suggestion to help make it work. Any mean comments will be deleted. You know how it feels to receive critiques, so play fair.  One of the best things we can do to help our own writing is to critique the work of others. It helps us to look at our own work with a critical eye.

If you have time, don't forget to head over to Brenda's and Shelley's blogs to see/comment on their critiques as well. 

Remember, this event is in preparation for our big pitch event coming up in march, so even if you didn't make it into the workshop, read the posts, critique, play along, and it can help you for the upcoming epic event!

So, onto the entries! My comments are in [blue].

*** 

Name: Miranda Hardy
Title: Out of Body (working title) [Own your title, whatever it is]
Genre: YA Horror
Word Count: 63,215

Pitch: When Faith’s newfound ability brings her to witness a gruesome crime, she’s unable to prove it to anyone, but the murderer. She finds herself the object of a twisted game of hunter and prey. [The first part of this is vague, the second part cliche. Be specific about what the ability is. Be specific about what the crime is. Use the space the second sentence takes up to ramp up the tension.]

Excerpt: The first time I left my body, I visited the darkened beach form from my childhood. The ocean stretched out for miles and a few large birds floated with the stars.[love!] Hotels lighted the curving deserted and sandy shore.

As I neared the water’s edge, I wanted to run my toes through the wet mush when I realized my feet were not there. Fear griped me and I instantly snapped back into my body.

My chest tightened as I breathed in deeply and bolted upward in my bed. The photo album fell to the floor, falling open to the picture of twelve year old me on Myrtle Beach four years ago. The same beach I had just visited seconds before; the same beach that sat over 750 miles away. [So you've got this prologue. Yes it's kinda interesting and yes it's got some beautiful phrasing, but is it necessary? No. It doesn't effect the real opening scene and doesn't tell us anything that we can't find out later just the same.]
Next chapter: The rusty red locker slammed next to me and I jerked back, dropping my calculus book.

***

Okay commenters! Your turn! Remember, the critiquing rules: be nice, provide constructive criticism.