I made it–I’m in!  Many thanks to the awesome coaches who’ve put this contest together for us!  I can’t wait to work with these fabulous ladies over the next couple weeks!  Brenda, Cupid, Krista, Monica–you’re the best!

For my friends who haven’t been waiting with their fingers in their mouth to see if I got in, this is a writer’s contest based on The Voice.  The prize if we win is being selected by one of the delightful ladies above to be on her team and be coached by her.  The selected team players will then work with their coach to polish their entry, and their queries and snippet will then be posted on the coach’s blog where–gasp–participating agents will bid on them!  So, pop those fingers out of your mouth and wish me luck!

Query:

Dear Ms. Chicken-Loving Agent,

I’m hoping to interest you in my middle grade, NINCHICKS.  Complete at 30,000 words, NinChicks will appeal to readers of Chihuawolf and Hank the Cowdog.  I have written it as a standalone, but the ending is open to a sequel.

For hundreds of years humans have agonized over the great question of life: Why did the chicken cross the road? The answer has remained an aggravating puzzle–until now. Trained in the heritage of the ancient ninjas, chickens participate in a Crossing the Road ceremony upon becoming a NinChick. The training is grueling, the missions dangerous, but our hero, Jackson, is sure he is up for the task. Until Sensei, Master of the NinChicks, turns him down cold.

Determined to prove himself, Jackson sneaks off with a pack full of forbidden NinChick weapons and a few lethal chicken jokes. Soon he’s in over his head—literally—and swinging upside down from a trap, while his best friend is hauled off by Brutus the Coyote. Worse, he discovers that Brutus has plans to bring down the entire chicken society. But even as he fumbles an egg grenade and chomps down on acid-poop paste, he begins to wonder if he had it all wrong—maybe being a hero has less to do with his ninja moves, and more to do with his heart. And proving he’s not chicken shouldn’t be his goal at all.

I am a martial artist with a black belt in Chung Do Kwan Tai Kwon Do. Add to this the barnyard full of show quality silkie chickens which look to me for food and entertainment, and this book was a no brainer.  I am a member of SCBWI, have attended Orson Scott Card’s literary bootcamp, and have published a dozen or so short stories in ezines and anthologies.

First 250 Words:

“Hey, Jackson,” Opus says eagerly.  “Ever hear the one about the rooster that crossed the road?  Wanna know why he did it?”

I sigh.  Opus and his jokes—right now I’d rather listen to mites crawling in my ears than hear a single-nother-chicken joke.  I mean, we are chickens, so why doesn’t he tell jokes about cats, or even humans?

Opus, Commander Pent and I are just finishing our afternoon Grunt Guard patrol, hiking up the pebbly road leading back to the Ravencroft main barn.  In the trees to our right a blue jay screams, ‘All clear!  All clear!’

“Don’t you wanna know?” Opus asks again.  He doesn’t wait for me to answer.  “The rooster crossed the road because he wanted to cock-a-doodle dooo something!”  He busts up laughing like it’s Saturday night at the chicken festival and he’s the funniest thing on the stage.

I adjust the wing strap of my supply sling.  “You’ve told me that one before.”

“Have I?  Well, here’s one you haven’t heard,” Opus says.  He tries an excited hop but he’s so big it’s more of a shuffle.  “You can’t have heard this one—it’s new.  Never been told before.”

Translation—he made it up himself and it’s not going to make any sense at all.  I nod absently.  Tilting my head, I sift the wind through my poof of inky black crest feathers, picking up all the small sounds of the grassy roadside and surrounding woods.  The toads are calling their mates—‘Me now!  Me now!’

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