New York Write to Pitch "First Pages"
A forum for New York pitch event alums to post samples of their scenes and prose narrative for detailed critique according to Algonkian Author Connect guidelines. Emphasis on choice of set, narrative cinema, quality of dialogue, metaphor, static and dynamic imagery, interior monologue, general clarity, tone, suspense devices, and routine line editing issues as well.
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The last time I wore this suit was at Grandad’s funeral. I was sweating through it in the shade, that after the chill of the church’s A/C. I can’t tell if it smells of Georgia pollen or my own stink. I lift my collar and lower my nose to meet it. “All rise,” calls the bailiff. Up I jump, pulling my suit jacket down from around my neck. I button it, station my feet at shoulder width, chest out. The judge enters and settles into his chair behind the bench. There’s a symphony of creaking wood as the rest of the courtroom sits. The congregation may be seated. Grandad hated church and court. A white collar is a white collar, and they can’t be trusted, and by…
Last reply by Mike Perez, -
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The Reluctant Empath first section.docx
Last reply by Mary Riddel, -
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Chapter One A.D. 66 The third day of Tammuz Outside of Bethlehem Diklah swept his hair off his forehead with the back of his hand and leaned heavily against his plow. The sun was high and scorching. Pulling a patch of cloth out of his pocket, he wiped the sweat from his face and squinted up at the cursed sun. The ground was hard and rocky, and he had been plowing it for weeks, but it seemed to harden overnight causing him to have to start again with each new day. He hated working in the fields. This was his father's passion, not his. He was a soldier or at least he would be soon. Unlike his kinsmen, he was exhilarated to learn …
Last reply by Sarah Wronko, -
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“Half-breed – he called me a half-breed!” Liah Cloud tore open the pouch of Sweetarts and spread them across the small desk in front of her. She slowly separated the candies into five assorted colors, and as usual, the majority were red. She hated the red, and sometimes she would throw them away. But Labor Day had passed, and football was about to begin – and she needed the red ones so she would have enough to set up two teams in formation on her desk. The orange and green candies made up the Miami Dolphins side – she loved the Dolphins, mainly because she loved the ocean – plus they had won the last two Super Bowls – and it’s easy to cheer for a winner. Thankfully…
Last reply by jparker1861, -
“Human activities have caused the Earth to exceed six of nine boundaries necessary for keeping the planet healthy, pushing the environment well outside the safe operating space for humanity.” Smithsonian Magazine, 2023. PROLOGUE Iceland - September, 2023 Something was different. She had been to this lake five times before and the energy had been peaceful, serene just like a glacial lake in a remote area of northern Iceland was supposed to be. But it felt off, as if the turquoise stillness was a mirage. She and above her, her ten colleagues, their columns of shimmering pixels, would soon begin their descent to the shore of the lake. Leta scanned the b…
Last reply by Gloria Kohl, -
Opening scene
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The raid began in the cold blue light that preceded dawn. We jolted from dreams of noise and light, to then realize that the noise and light had pierced our night journeys and ripped us from our own reveries. This was the first stealing of us, from our dreams and then from our beds and then from our families and from our childhoods. Our captors appeared as shapes standing over us, etched in a void. We knew who they were, who they had to be. We knew the stories of how in their distant land they had mastered the darkest arts, and wielded great and terrifying powers. We, in our settlement called Cadmere, knew no such magic. That made us fear the Insaloreans, and to liv…
Last reply by Ted, -
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Chapter 1 - Rhubarb Tarte Thick ribbons of steam framed Arden’s face. Hovering before an opened oven, he scanned the pale domes of a dozen, freshly risen buns. He inhaled and sighed, dazzled by the creamy-ripe aroma of yeast on grain. Intent on caramelizing the swollen boules into gold, he shut the oven door and flipped a quarter-hourglass. It was early Tuesday morning. Outside the small porthole window above the stove, the city’s cobblestone streets were quiet and shiny, shellacked by summer night rains and blanketed by a gentle fog. The sky was ripening, its greyish haze paling into a cyan morning. “Oh!” Dawn already? Arden spun to salt a batch of b…
Last reply by Kev Perkins, -
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Chapter 1 and first scene of Chapter 2. Introduces protagonist and setting, drops clues about antagonist, begins worldbuilding, first part of inciting incident.. CHAPTER 1 Noah fell asleep halfway through How the Jackalope Tricked El Chupacabra. Had I known it was more survival guide than picture book, I would have kept reading on my own. Instead, I pulled the blanket up to Noah’s chin and kissed him on the forehead, inhaling his fresh toddler scent. He clutched his new stuffed animals, jackalope on the right, chupacabra on the left. I think he picked the book from the museum gift shop knowing I would get him the matching animals. Something to replace his b…
Last reply by berenberg, -
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Chapter 1 When had the future become the present and it the past? Erin St. Clair pondered this as she stared wide-eyed at her friend's gravid belly. If Erin blinked she would be right back there in that luxurious hotel room where they had plotted the future and decided they would have it all with or without the cooperation of a male counterpart. They had each other and that was enough. Ride or die was the pact they made while in a drunken stupor expressing their anger at the women who were disloyal to other women in their blind pursuit of success. Their bond had gotten Erin through medical school and residency and fellowship and had sustained Millie as she trans…
Last reply by Denise H, -
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The following is an excerpt from chapter one of "Clean." Darla, the protagonist, is experiencing a flashback as she cleans a client's house. She looked at the wall to the right side of the bed. Another secret panel hid there, protecting the Parson’s safe and family photo albums. Unlike those in bank robber movies, the safe wasn't anything special. Every so often, she’d peruse the photographs of long-dead Parson ancestors. Occasionally, Darla would find a new, crisply developed photo of the couple off on European adventures or relaxing Caribbean cruises. A life she would never know. Still, even hiding spots needed dusting. It'll be fine. They're not b…
Last reply by Tucker Bomar, -
I knew—because Mom was involved—that my first car-buying experience would be painful, but I couldn’t imagine how close it would come to killing me. Dad was a professor of mathematics at Boston University and probably never held a torque wrench in his life, whereas Mom grew up in Grandpa’s repair shop and could tune up an engine by the time she turned eight. Meaning there wasn’t any question who would “help” me pick out my twenty-first birthday gift. We set out in her shiny, hatteras blue Cadillac Seville on a Saturday morning in October. You would’ve thought Mom was going to the symphony, not a used car dealership. For her, every excursion was an excuse to dress…
Last reply by Margie B, -
Prior to the birth of Grace, a young couple named Mary and Angelo met and fell in love during WWII, in a combated and destroyed tiny island of Gozo, Malta, which floats in the center of the Mediterranean, and is filled with mystical history and magic. During the war, Malta was one of the most central English colonies of destruction. To say it was decimated, is being kind. Everyone wanted this jewel in the sea, the most perfect entry point into Europe with Africa and the Middle east not being too far away. Once the devastating war was over, and Angelo was able to return to the love of his life Mary from his time at sea while serving on war ships…
Last reply by Maureen Valerie Hummel, -
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You remember the stains on your mother’s skin. Colors caked under her nails, streaked across her forehead and feathered into her eyebrows. You recall the dizzying smell of turpentine that clung to her clothes and how one night, while she whispered stories to you in bed, you reached up and pulled hardened specks of blue from her pale hair. You stood in her studio as a very young child, four, five, maybe and watched her, hovering just out of her line of sight, and you believed the colors came from her, that they existed inside her belly and flowed through her arms and out through the skin of her palms onto the canvas. You wondered if they lived in you too,…
Last reply by LoriLarson, -
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Opening scene - Introduces protagonist, setting, tone, and core wounds. At any given moment at least twenty-two thousand particles float in the air around you. On the second Monday in April, 1998, these translucent menaces encircled Cap and I like vultures, shoulder's back and perched to dive. All day it felt like the flowering trees of spring erupted at our fingertips, coy pinks pushing past woebegone whites. We ran in circles playing zombies. But when dusk descended those menaces materialized, surrounding us in a thousand motley shapes. I put my hands in the air. "We surrender!" Cap stared and put his pointer finger up (Boink!). I don’t know if he saw the…
Last reply by tulipopera, -
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Pages 1-4 Novel.pdf
Last reply by Dante Tropea, -
I am thankful I splurged on the handcuffs with the pink fur. Max will unlock me eventually, it's just a matter of how long he is going to be unconscious. The fur on my wrists makes it a bit more tolerable. I glare at Max, sprawled on the wood floor to my left, halfway out of the bathroom in his boxers, wasted and out cold. I am furious with Max’s use of recreational substances; that had all but disappeared until recently. Stress from the impending wedding must have been the catalyst, but it is no excuse. Had I thought about that, I would never have agreed to this game tonight. He seemed well enough at the time, though. I glance around the bedroom trying to cal…
Last reply by Laura Legan, -
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Fucking bagpipes. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. But we Irish love our bagpipes. Michael, especially. So, I thought it would be a nice touch for the service. But this was shortsighted. It didn’t occur to me how loud the bagpipes would be, if I was stuck right next to them. I’ve always enjoyed bagpipes at outdoor activities. St. Patrick’s Day parades. Notre Dame football games. I hadn’t considered how different it would be at an indoor funeral. In a church so crowded we passed capacity hours ago. Before the service, while my kids and I followed the casket to the altar and stood—for several minutes—directly in front of…
Last reply by Heather Wolesky, -
Scene is the entirety of Chapter 1 Millions are marching. Millions have already marched. Millions are preparing to march. An unstoppable movement proceeds apace. America beckons at the end of this movement. All roads lead to America. The world is marching towards a land of landless ideals as nations regather and realign to prostrate before the American ideal. Samuel Rockwell was one of these millions, a twenty-four year old from London. Born into relative wealth, he seldom experienced material want, yet his soul was starving. A little under six foot, he cut a handsome figure. Girls found his puffy cheeks cute, especially two dibbled inlets they enjoy…
Last reply by JackDumonde, -
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The Language Of Wolves Chapter 1 .pdf
Last reply by Nan Schmid, -
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Beginning “Excuse me…” I say. The man is lying on the grass, his face almost touching the water. He stares at his own reflection. Here the stream is calm and quiet, the water barely moving, but clear and clean. I come here often to be alone, to enjoy the peace. The woods, the water, the wind, everything seems quieter at this spot. But now he’s here. “Hello?” He doesn’t look at me. Just stares at his reflection. I move closer, cautiously. Mother has told me to never approach strange men. Or satyrs. Or centaurs. Really anything male. But this man seems so engrossed. I don’t think he knows I’m here. I can see my reflection standing hig…
Last reply by JungWildFree, -
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Chapter 1 Sacrifice yourself to the Lord of the Cosmos. Your reward shall be great in heaven - Chapter 7, Verse 14, Book of Nephilius New Eridu, God City, was darkened by a blackening blanket of clouds enveloping the heavens. A deluge of impetuous rain descended down—fat, globulous drops pummeled the buildings, their lights going out like dominoes. A soporific river overflowing the causeways with gloomy dark waters flowed slowly through the heart of the city until it came to an island of red rock like a bleeding eye. Atop that island in the misty air was a massive stone structure, a ziggurat built from the very stones of the ziggurat found at the r…
Last reply by Tim McDonald, -
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“Your stance is still too spread out, Kate,” Hassland said, snapping my ankles with his wooden sword like he was a gods-damned prison warden. “Do that one more time and I swear-” I began to growl, just as he swiped again for my ankle, hitting his mark a second before I could pull it away. I stumbled to the side, catching myself with my own wooden sword to keep from toppling into the dirt. Hassland gave me an amused smile. “See. Told you your stance was too wide.” I glared at my brother as I propped myself back up, shuffling my feet closer together this time. He paid no mind to my scowl, the expression more common on my face nowadays than a smile. Hi…
Last reply by Katie C, -
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Introduces protagonist, his sister, and his friends as they set their plan into motion to free Thessaul. Shows us the characters of the protagonist and side characters as well as describing the forest in which the story will take place. Omega Sample - Go Time.docx
Last reply by Tomas F. Diaz, -
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Last reply by Donna E, -
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Last reply by Jennifer Wiz,
ALGONKIAN SUCCESS STORIES
What should you accept as credible?
Where it All Began
