Title: That Year
Word Count: 79,000
Special Question: If your main character could be any Star Wars character, who would they choose and why? Sophie would be Yoda, because everybody loves and admires Yoda, and when it comes right down to it, Sophie just wants to be loved.
35 Word Pitch:
Everything changes when Sophie’s BFF swallows a bottle of pills, ending her life. To heal and move on, Sophie must search for answers about Hayley's life and death.
First 250 Words:
I’m trying to figure out what strikes me as more strange. The fact that I’m sitting in a Christian church that has jack-o-lanterns lined up on the pulpit and ghosts hanging in the rafters, or the fact that my best friend is lying in a coffin in front of four hundred of our closest friends and family members. I mean, is it sacrilegious to display ghosts and goblins in a church? I wouldn’t know, since this is the first time I’ve set foot in one in almost ten years. We’re not really a church-going type of family. Not even on Christmas or Easter. The last time I visited a church was when my grandma died and it was a blur of wet family kisses and too tight hugs from my smelly aunts.
I’m staring at the front of the room where the big mahogany coffin sits on a raised platform but I’m having a hard time comprehending the fact that Haley lies inside. Her red and silver pom-pons are artfully arranged on the top and there are about a million baby pink teacup roses arranged all around. She loves all things pink. Being inside her bedroom is like slipping inside a Pepto-Bismol bottle, but it makes her really happy. Or made her really happy. Is it time to start talking about her in the past tense?
I suppose it’s only fitting that the lining of that coffin is pink satin and every flower in the room carries her favorite hue.
First 250 Words:
I’m trying to figure out what strikes me as more strange. The fact that I’m sitting in a Christian church that has jack-o-lanterns lined up on the pulpit and ghosts hanging in the rafters, or the fact that my best friend is lying in a coffin in front of four hundred of our closest friends and family members. I mean, is it sacrilegious to display ghosts and goblins in a church? I wouldn’t know, since this is the first time I’ve set foot in one in almost ten years. We’re not really a church-going type of family. Not even on Christmas or Easter. The last time I visited a church was when my grandma died and it was a blur of wet family kisses and too tight hugs from my smelly aunts.
I’m staring at the front of the room where the big mahogany coffin sits on a raised platform but I’m having a hard time comprehending the fact that Haley lies inside. Her red and silver pom-pons are artfully arranged on the top and there are about a million baby pink teacup roses arranged all around. She loves all things pink. Being inside her bedroom is like slipping inside a Pepto-Bismol bottle, but it makes her really happy. Or made her really happy. Is it time to start talking about her in the past tense?
I suppose it’s only fitting that the lining of that coffin is pink satin and every flower in the room carries her favorite hue.
