It’s day six of our pitch workshop. For ten days, Shelley Watters, Cassandra Marshall, and I are critiquing two pitches each per day. Click on my partners-in-crime pics on the sidebar to go to their sites and read their critiques.
Next up is …
Name: Jade Hart
Title: ( still WIP ) Venom’s Curse
Genre: YA Fantasy with mythological elements
Word Count: 90,000
Loka holds the worlds existence in her palm. And she’s about to die. Poisoned with cobra venom, she must deal with Hindu Mythology and unravel the puzzle of who she is before eternal death finds her.
B’s note: This logline is one word too long. It sounds like an intriguing premise. I have only one issue with it. How does finding out who she is prevent eternal death from finding her? I’d mix this up and rework this logline to make it more enticing. Check this site out for writing loglines: http://www.writersstore.com/writing-loglines-that-sell. If you want me to take a stab at your logline, answer the question above and I’ll see what I can come up with. I’d like to see more of the voice in the excerpt here in the pitch.
B’s notes: After getting more information from Jade, I’ve taken a shot at her logline. This one is tough, so help out if you can and let me know what you think in the comments.
‘Being a Hindu goddess has its perks—dying continually isn’t one—so when a cobra bites Loka, its venom erasing her memory, she must learn who she really is or die for good this time.’
“Damn it,” I said through clenched teeth. “Not again!”
My eyes cracked open to reveal a saffron infused, gothic room with high vaulted ceilings. Thick heavy banners of emerald, scarlet (I’d add a comma here – but I’m an Oxford comma fan – you decide here) and cobalt hung, brushing whisper-soft, against the marble floor. The ivory marble was bitterly cold and unyielding against my cheek. It was polished to a perfect mirrored gloss, reflecting the image of the room upside down, like a crystal lake.
“Hello, Loka,”a gravel and husk voice said. “What a surprise.”
“No need to rub it in,” I said, hauling myself to my feet in an ungainly dance of vertigo. I was glad I’d died today when I was wearing under-wear. Yesterday would’ve been rather embarrassing, with the marble floor bouncing back my daisy knickers hidden beneath my high-lighter pink mini-skirt.
I glared at the three Gods in front of me, and all my memories of my past lives flooded back.
B’s notes: I loved this excerpt. You pulled me right into the story. Great voice! I’d rework that line about the daisy knickers. How is the marble floor bouncing them back? It could just be me but I’m not visualizing it. But anyway – LOVED it!
I hope this helps!
Remember this is subjective and others’ may feel differently. So I’ll now pass it on to the readers to critique. Please leave your comments, and remember the rules of critiquing … be nice, which I’m sure you all will be, but I have to say it … you know.