Manuscript Title: Sisters (Novella)
Manuscript Genre: Science fantasy (think ~ Pern); New adult/Coming of Age
Manuscript Word Count: ~17,500
Is your manuscript finished?: Y
Any trigger warnings? Some M/F sex—but honestly you’ll probably be bothered by the low detail rather than too much
Hook:
On planet Turaset, seventeen-year-old Celeste bakes another batch of muffins and fantasizes of life in the city. She’d abandon her parents’ miserable country inn in a hot second given half a chance. So, when she learns that Narona’s central university is offering classes to country folk, she sees her opportunity. She convinces Mama to help persuade Papa to sign her up.
Celeste soaks up city life and adulthood with gusto. She asks out a handsome young city boy, he says ‘yes,’ and soon they’re discovering Narona together and spending nights in one another’s arms. Life back home could never teach her what Anson can!
But love sours when Celeste begins to suspect that she’s just a country novelty to Anson. Narona’s different, but with no family will it ever feel like home? Celeste must choose between the safety of country tradition, and an uncertain future in a wildly different culture.
First 750 words:
Celeste pushed through the crowds, swells of rain hitting her shoulders in endless bursts. Chill worked under her skin and into her chest, and she clutched her satchel more tightly beneath her coat. At least her books and papers were dry!
But this infuriating sea-storm. The drops like blades, as though they wanted to peel the skin straight off her face. Nothing like the showers she knew from the countryside, the gentle pattering rain that coaxed hillsides into another season of wildflowers. No. These evening storms felt every bit as opinionated as Narona City itself.
Back at her dormitory room, Celeste shuddered out of her coat, gave it a massive shake and hung it next to the radiator. She grabbed a towel and roughed her hair.
“You should’ve skipped.”
Her roommate Althea didn’t even look up from her latest racy softback. From the way the girl’s eyes were glued to the pages, and the bare-chested men on the cover, it was easy to imagine why. Celeste shucked off her shoes, dropped to her mattress and peeled off her socks. She grimaced. Her toes had pruned into wrinkled lumps, and she rubbed at them with the towel.
Across the room, Althea’s toes, plump and pink, scrunched at her sheets foot by foot like a contented cat.
“You missed a great class. We figured how to break a sphere into pieces and make two new spheres out of the parts. I couldn’t stop laughing!”
“Wow. Spheres. I wish I’d been.” Althea turned a page in her softback.
“Anson said if Turaset was the size of a handball, it’d be smoother than the smoothest handball in the world.”
“Mmm.”
Celeste smiled. “I’m getting you to class tomorrow if I have to drag you. Rain is no excuse.”
Calculus was a requirement in the City Study program, the two-year-education initiative for country youth. It wasn’t how Celeste imagined coming to the city, but here she was, Narona City, at last. She’d wanted to come for as long as she could remember and had begged her parents years ago.
“I’m fourteen! Old enough to marry and then I won’t have the chance!”
“No,” her papa Hubert had said.
“Hubert,” she’d cried, “please!”
“It’s not safe,” he said fiercely, “especially for a girl like you, coming from a family like ours.”
She steamed at that. Their family was no different than any other. “Why not, Papa?”
He snapped, “You will address me by name.”
“You’re treating me like a baby. If I’m old enough to call you by name, I’m old enough to take work in the city.”
But every time, the answer was no. If Hubert didn’t call the cities unsafe, he called them expensive. Or filthy.
As if the horses weren’t filthy. Or the inn, filthy with age from its dusty front entry to its dreary root cellar to every last guest room above.
Celeste tolerated it, endured sleepy Collimais; even left notes to herself, scraps written in a miniscule little script and tucked into tiny cracks in windowsills or under seat cushions that this tedious, chore-laden life couldn’t last forever.
The scribbles grew more elaborate by the month, and as bits of paper began to fill every availably cranny she could find, a funny thing happened. The notes began to convince Celeste that any city would be better, be a wide-open future, and that it might actually happen. She came to believe it, and she began approaching guests.
“I’d love to work in Vastol,” she said to a couple one morning.
The woman replied, “Maybe not a good idea. It’s mostly drudge work for young people.”
Celeste held up her oven mitts. “That’s fine.”
“No, no, worse. Assembly lines, long shifts, like that. Unless you’ve a certificate?” the woman said with an upward lilt.
Hubert walked up. “Excuse my daughter,” he said, taking her by the elbow.
But the notion wouldn’t leave her head. City folk stayed under this roof, slept under sheets she herself had washed, enjoying food she’d prepared. There must be a way to use that and flip things. Celeste cornered guest after guest, teasing nuggets of information from them.
And then one spring morning she woke to a sky that was that rare shade of paradise blue, and she knew that absolutely everything would line up. And on that day, on that morning, over a plate of maple syrup muffins drizzled with heavy cream, one of their guests blew the entire thing completely, utterly, and forever wide open.
What do you look for in a beta?
What works? What doesn’t? My story is a world-building prequel to my novel and intended for my website. I won’t seek an agent for this, and don’t need huge plot/stakes. Hopefully the story is easy to follow and fun to read. I’d like to know if it stands alone. In this novella, I tried to avoid novel spoilers, and some of the stuff in it is just funsies for people who read the novel. So, you might feel things are missing. What confuses you? Mark it. What drags? Mark it. Any feedback welcome… I hope for mid-level feedback in particular. I wouldn't mind expanding the word count too, so if you can imagine a scene you'd like, please make a note.
Manuscript Genre: Science fantasy (think ~ Pern); New adult/Coming of Age
Manuscript Word Count: ~17,500
Is your manuscript finished?: Y
Any trigger warnings? Some M/F sex—but honestly you’ll probably be bothered by the low detail rather than too much
Hook:
On planet Turaset, seventeen-year-old Celeste bakes another batch of muffins and fantasizes of life in the city. She’d abandon her parents’ miserable country inn in a hot second given half a chance. So, when she learns that Narona’s central university is offering classes to country folk, she sees her opportunity. She convinces Mama to help persuade Papa to sign her up.
Celeste soaks up city life and adulthood with gusto. She asks out a handsome young city boy, he says ‘yes,’ and soon they’re discovering Narona together and spending nights in one another’s arms. Life back home could never teach her what Anson can!
But love sours when Celeste begins to suspect that she’s just a country novelty to Anson. Narona’s different, but with no family will it ever feel like home? Celeste must choose between the safety of country tradition, and an uncertain future in a wildly different culture.
First 750 words:
Celeste pushed through the crowds, swells of rain hitting her shoulders in endless bursts. Chill worked under her skin and into her chest, and she clutched her satchel more tightly beneath her coat. At least her books and papers were dry!
But this infuriating sea-storm. The drops like blades, as though they wanted to peel the skin straight off her face. Nothing like the showers she knew from the countryside, the gentle pattering rain that coaxed hillsides into another season of wildflowers. No. These evening storms felt every bit as opinionated as Narona City itself.
Back at her dormitory room, Celeste shuddered out of her coat, gave it a massive shake and hung it next to the radiator. She grabbed a towel and roughed her hair.
“You should’ve skipped.”
Her roommate Althea didn’t even look up from her latest racy softback. From the way the girl’s eyes were glued to the pages, and the bare-chested men on the cover, it was easy to imagine why. Celeste shucked off her shoes, dropped to her mattress and peeled off her socks. She grimaced. Her toes had pruned into wrinkled lumps, and she rubbed at them with the towel.
Across the room, Althea’s toes, plump and pink, scrunched at her sheets foot by foot like a contented cat.
“You missed a great class. We figured how to break a sphere into pieces and make two new spheres out of the parts. I couldn’t stop laughing!”
“Wow. Spheres. I wish I’d been.” Althea turned a page in her softback.
“Anson said if Turaset was the size of a handball, it’d be smoother than the smoothest handball in the world.”
“Mmm.”
Celeste smiled. “I’m getting you to class tomorrow if I have to drag you. Rain is no excuse.”
Calculus was a requirement in the City Study program, the two-year-education initiative for country youth. It wasn’t how Celeste imagined coming to the city, but here she was, Narona City, at last. She’d wanted to come for as long as she could remember and had begged her parents years ago.
“I’m fourteen! Old enough to marry and then I won’t have the chance!”
“No,” her papa Hubert had said.
“Hubert,” she’d cried, “please!”
“It’s not safe,” he said fiercely, “especially for a girl like you, coming from a family like ours.”
She steamed at that. Their family was no different than any other. “Why not, Papa?”
He snapped, “You will address me by name.”
“You’re treating me like a baby. If I’m old enough to call you by name, I’m old enough to take work in the city.”
But every time, the answer was no. If Hubert didn’t call the cities unsafe, he called them expensive. Or filthy.
As if the horses weren’t filthy. Or the inn, filthy with age from its dusty front entry to its dreary root cellar to every last guest room above.
Celeste tolerated it, endured sleepy Collimais; even left notes to herself, scraps written in a miniscule little script and tucked into tiny cracks in windowsills or under seat cushions that this tedious, chore-laden life couldn’t last forever.
The scribbles grew more elaborate by the month, and as bits of paper began to fill every availably cranny she could find, a funny thing happened. The notes began to convince Celeste that any city would be better, be a wide-open future, and that it might actually happen. She came to believe it, and she began approaching guests.
“I’d love to work in Vastol,” she said to a couple one morning.
The woman replied, “Maybe not a good idea. It’s mostly drudge work for young people.”
Celeste held up her oven mitts. “That’s fine.”
“No, no, worse. Assembly lines, long shifts, like that. Unless you’ve a certificate?” the woman said with an upward lilt.
Hubert walked up. “Excuse my daughter,” he said, taking her by the elbow.
But the notion wouldn’t leave her head. City folk stayed under this roof, slept under sheets she herself had washed, enjoying food she’d prepared. There must be a way to use that and flip things. Celeste cornered guest after guest, teasing nuggets of information from them.
And then one spring morning she woke to a sky that was that rare shade of paradise blue, and she knew that absolutely everything would line up. And on that day, on that morning, over a plate of maple syrup muffins drizzled with heavy cream, one of their guests blew the entire thing completely, utterly, and forever wide open.
What do you look for in a beta?
What works? What doesn’t? My story is a world-building prequel to my novel and intended for my website. I won’t seek an agent for this, and don’t need huge plot/stakes. Hopefully the story is easy to follow and fun to read. I’d like to know if it stands alone. In this novella, I tried to avoid novel spoilers, and some of the stuff in it is just funsies for people who read the novel. So, you might feel things are missing. What confuses you? Mark it. What drags? Mark it. Any feedback welcome… I hope for mid-level feedback in particular. I wouldn't mind expanding the word count too, so if you can imagine a scene you'd like, please make a note.
