Manuscript Title: VENGEANCE
Manuscript Genre: Second-World Political Sci Fi, Adult
Manuscript Word Count: 40,000 (projected; novella)
Is your manuscript finished?: N
Any trigger warnings? Genocide
Hook:
When Maeve’s brother is yanked from her grip and hurled into a van, never to be seen again, she knows he fell to a horrific program that targets people because of their genes. Maeve’s brother had a trait that could undercut the single most powerful industry on planet Turaset—the combustion industry. To protect people like her brother, Maeve earns a seat on the council and begins writing civil protections law. But nothing in politics is quick, and what Maeve keeps secret is that she, too, has this dangerous ability. It’s only a matter of time before the thugs who abducted her brother turn their sights to her.
First 750 words:
On long-dead Earth, back in the early twenty-first century, a five-year water crisis in the state of Michigan exposed ten thousand children to toxic levels of lead. During this time, the auto industry received the pristine water it needed to keep operations running smoothly.
What puzzled the two women most was the toxicology sheet.
The rest of the report lay in line with what Berna and Maeve had expected. Changes to fish populations, perturbations to sediments, microbial counts—these all indicated the Turas River had undergone significant environmental degradation. But the toxicology made no sense.
If the city’s river was contaminated with coal ash, then lead and mercury and other pollutants should be detectable, and yet the chemical sheet showed none of that. Just normal levels of ammonia and phosphates and such, things found in any body of water.
“Someone took a bribe,” Maeve muttered. She stood over the worktable in Berna Vanther’s dimly lit office suite, her shaggy hair falling forward.
Next to her, Berna slid the microbial analysis closer. Pathogens were blooming downstream from Garco Industries on a repeating ten-day schedule. “Quite possibly. Hard to imagine this level of bacterial growth, with this kind of regularity, in a healthy river.”
“Hard to imagine clean water at all, given the stench.” Maeve straightened, cracked her spine, and removed her blazer. “Someone bought off the chemist,” she repeated.
“And not the microbiologist? It doesn’t make sense.” Berna needed the report to make sense. Her son’s attention had worsened by the year, his grades slipping and his erratic outbursts coming more frequently. But even if she could prove his problems traced to lead, and even if she could prove that Garco’s waste lay behind that, she had little confidence they’d be able to fix the problem. The industry always found ways to keep inspectors out.
Today’s job was proving the link existed. That was the first step toward cleaning the river, and with summer heat bearing down, baking the continent from one end to the other, Berna knew another school year would soon be on them. Parents and teachers alike would turn their attentions from summer vacations to how the children were failing academically.
“What about the pathogen counts?” Maeve asked, leaning closer to see. “Those might convince—”
“They’re not enough.” The words came harsh, and Berna flashed a smile to soften her tone. “But you’re right. It’s the best we have, and that’s where we’ll start.”
“It doesn’t take a chemist to see the pollution,” Maeve said quietly. “Anyone can see it.” Her nerves spiked with the words. She was working up to an admission, one she rarely made outside the family.
“Trash and litter is one thing. We need data on the things we can’t see.”
“Like elevated levels of aromatics.” Again, Maeve’s words were quiet. “From evaporation off the river spray.”
Berna frowned, and an awkward silence crept between the women. Maeve felt a flush begin at the base of her neck, then Berna said, “Yes. Like that. An enrichment in something that traces to coal. We can’t see aromatics.”
Maeve’s flush deepened and spread, and Berna held her tongue even as she wondered, as she had before, if Maeve carried one of the ancestral traits. Perhaps the rare gaiakennen genes, said to impart a deep, instinctive communion with nature. Perhaps one of the time-slip abilities, or even aerovoyancy, with its supposed ability to see the components of air.
Of course, asking after someone’s genetics was out of the question, due to the baggage these traits carried. Some led to insanity; others, like aerovoyancy, carried a stigma. Rumors had sprung up that aerovoyants were being targeted, even killed, but details were sketchy. No one admitted to having the genes.
Berna returned her attention to the report. The suite fell silent, save for the faint sound of automobiles and an occasional carriage from the avenue below. Across the hall, out of earshot of these two women, other senior councilors, in their single-room offices, called donors or planned out new allegiances amongst themselves. Two reviewed notes for that afternoon’s meeting. On the first floor, below, junior councilors shared an office with the probationary councilors. Normally Maeve would be down there, in her tidy and organized corner, working in her bespectacled way. She’d have her head down as she penned out ideas, which had nothing to do with pollution and everything to do with safeguarding aerovoyants.
A knock sounded, and both women looked up.
What do you look for in a beta?
The manuscript is workshopped and partially but not fully polished. It won't be queried ... but I'd love it to be as strong as reasonably possible. I'm looking for a beta who is comfortable reading a narrative told by an 'engaged narrator' (~omniscient voice). If the beta can tell me when that narrative voice works, and when, instead, it slips into nasty, nasty head-hopping, I will be overjoyed. Also, please mention the standard things: plot holes, characterization, description, etc.
Manuscript Genre: Second-World Political Sci Fi, Adult
Manuscript Word Count: 40,000 (projected; novella)
Is your manuscript finished?: N
Any trigger warnings? Genocide
Hook:
When Maeve’s brother is yanked from her grip and hurled into a van, never to be seen again, she knows he fell to a horrific program that targets people because of their genes. Maeve’s brother had a trait that could undercut the single most powerful industry on planet Turaset—the combustion industry. To protect people like her brother, Maeve earns a seat on the council and begins writing civil protections law. But nothing in politics is quick, and what Maeve keeps secret is that she, too, has this dangerous ability. It’s only a matter of time before the thugs who abducted her brother turn their sights to her.
First 750 words:
On long-dead Earth, back in the early twenty-first century, a five-year water crisis in the state of Michigan exposed ten thousand children to toxic levels of lead. During this time, the auto industry received the pristine water it needed to keep operations running smoothly.
CHAPTER ONE
What puzzled the two women most was the toxicology sheet.
The rest of the report lay in line with what Berna and Maeve had expected. Changes to fish populations, perturbations to sediments, microbial counts—these all indicated the Turas River had undergone significant environmental degradation. But the toxicology made no sense.
If the city’s river was contaminated with coal ash, then lead and mercury and other pollutants should be detectable, and yet the chemical sheet showed none of that. Just normal levels of ammonia and phosphates and such, things found in any body of water.
“Someone took a bribe,” Maeve muttered. She stood over the worktable in Berna Vanther’s dimly lit office suite, her shaggy hair falling forward.
Next to her, Berna slid the microbial analysis closer. Pathogens were blooming downstream from Garco Industries on a repeating ten-day schedule. “Quite possibly. Hard to imagine this level of bacterial growth, with this kind of regularity, in a healthy river.”
“Hard to imagine clean water at all, given the stench.” Maeve straightened, cracked her spine, and removed her blazer. “Someone bought off the chemist,” she repeated.
“And not the microbiologist? It doesn’t make sense.” Berna needed the report to make sense. Her son’s attention had worsened by the year, his grades slipping and his erratic outbursts coming more frequently. But even if she could prove his problems traced to lead, and even if she could prove that Garco’s waste lay behind that, she had little confidence they’d be able to fix the problem. The industry always found ways to keep inspectors out.
Today’s job was proving the link existed. That was the first step toward cleaning the river, and with summer heat bearing down, baking the continent from one end to the other, Berna knew another school year would soon be on them. Parents and teachers alike would turn their attentions from summer vacations to how the children were failing academically.
“What about the pathogen counts?” Maeve asked, leaning closer to see. “Those might convince—”
“They’re not enough.” The words came harsh, and Berna flashed a smile to soften her tone. “But you’re right. It’s the best we have, and that’s where we’ll start.”
“It doesn’t take a chemist to see the pollution,” Maeve said quietly. “Anyone can see it.” Her nerves spiked with the words. She was working up to an admission, one she rarely made outside the family.
“Trash and litter is one thing. We need data on the things we can’t see.”
“Like elevated levels of aromatics.” Again, Maeve’s words were quiet. “From evaporation off the river spray.”
Berna frowned, and an awkward silence crept between the women. Maeve felt a flush begin at the base of her neck, then Berna said, “Yes. Like that. An enrichment in something that traces to coal. We can’t see aromatics.”
Maeve’s flush deepened and spread, and Berna held her tongue even as she wondered, as she had before, if Maeve carried one of the ancestral traits. Perhaps the rare gaiakennen genes, said to impart a deep, instinctive communion with nature. Perhaps one of the time-slip abilities, or even aerovoyancy, with its supposed ability to see the components of air.
Of course, asking after someone’s genetics was out of the question, due to the baggage these traits carried. Some led to insanity; others, like aerovoyancy, carried a stigma. Rumors had sprung up that aerovoyants were being targeted, even killed, but details were sketchy. No one admitted to having the genes.
Berna returned her attention to the report. The suite fell silent, save for the faint sound of automobiles and an occasional carriage from the avenue below. Across the hall, out of earshot of these two women, other senior councilors, in their single-room offices, called donors or planned out new allegiances amongst themselves. Two reviewed notes for that afternoon’s meeting. On the first floor, below, junior councilors shared an office with the probationary councilors. Normally Maeve would be down there, in her tidy and organized corner, working in her bespectacled way. She’d have her head down as she penned out ideas, which had nothing to do with pollution and everything to do with safeguarding aerovoyants.
A knock sounded, and both women looked up.
What do you look for in a beta?
The manuscript is workshopped and partially but not fully polished. It won't be queried ... but I'd love it to be as strong as reasonably possible. I'm looking for a beta who is comfortable reading a narrative told by an 'engaged narrator' (~omniscient voice). If the beta can tell me when that narrative voice works, and when, instead, it slips into nasty, nasty head-hopping, I will be overjoyed. Also, please mention the standard things: plot holes, characterization, description, etc.
