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- Nov 7, 2014
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It's called The Wizarding Life. It's kind of a mix between Harry Potter and Terry Pratchett. It's 58000 words, but you can read as little or as much as you want. I am of course very happy to return the favor in word count either immediately or in the future as a credit. In return I don't mind reading any genre, but I lean towards science-fiction and fantasy, MG/YA and adult, but I'm flexible. I've started submitting it and had some okay feedback, but I've decided to stop submitting to see if I can get any advice on buffing the manuscript.
Here's the pitch:
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Eleven-year-old Alia and Arti want to be a great witch and wizard, but no one will teach them. In their drive to learn magic, they accidentally release hideous winged monsters called night-drakons who feed on magic, and they're starving! Alia and Arti recruit an army of magic-users to fight the beasts, but they are betrayed and abandoned to fight the drakons alone. Finally they discover the only magic worth knowing is the magic you learn yourself, and they must find it within themselves if they are to defeat the night-drakon menace.
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Here's the start:
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Bump, bump, bump.
Arti followed the strange sound across the main hall, dragging his mop and bucket behind him. The sound was coming from above the ceiling, from his master's attic chambers. Arti thought he knew all the sounds of the old palace--banging shutters, howling wind, hungry squealing mice--but this was something new.
Bump, bump. Bump.
Whatever it was, it had stopped near the hatch entrance in the ceiling, fifty feet above him. It was up there, in the attic, where his uncle Verus kept all the spells. And where Arti couldn't go.
Bump, bump, bump.
Arti couldn't get up into the attic because he couldn't fly. Which was bothersome because, according to his uncle, he had the innate power of flight; he just didn’t know how to use it. In fact, it was Arti's power of flight that was keeping the palace floating in the sky. Without him, the palace would drop like a very large stone. Arti wasn't even aware he was doing it; his uncle harnessed his power with a spell.
Arti wouldn't have minded if he got to do some magic. But no. His uncle kept all the spells locked away up in the attic, and Arti couldn't get up there because he didn't know how to fly...
Bump, bump. BUMP!
What was that noise? Suddenly a cylinder fell through the hatch. It fell, stopped just above the floor, hovered, then shot back up. It ricocheted off the ceiling and fell to the floor with a 'crack!'
How strange. Arti crept closer. The cylinder looked like an imp-jar, and was wrapped in a sheet of brown paper sealed at the top with a twist.
-----------------------
Here's the pitch:
-----------------------
Eleven-year-old Alia and Arti want to be a great witch and wizard, but no one will teach them. In their drive to learn magic, they accidentally release hideous winged monsters called night-drakons who feed on magic, and they're starving! Alia and Arti recruit an army of magic-users to fight the beasts, but they are betrayed and abandoned to fight the drakons alone. Finally they discover the only magic worth knowing is the magic you learn yourself, and they must find it within themselves if they are to defeat the night-drakon menace.
-----------------------
Here's the start:
-----------------------
Bump, bump, bump.
Arti followed the strange sound across the main hall, dragging his mop and bucket behind him. The sound was coming from above the ceiling, from his master's attic chambers. Arti thought he knew all the sounds of the old palace--banging shutters, howling wind, hungry squealing mice--but this was something new.
Bump, bump. Bump.
Whatever it was, it had stopped near the hatch entrance in the ceiling, fifty feet above him. It was up there, in the attic, where his uncle Verus kept all the spells. And where Arti couldn't go.
Bump, bump, bump.
Arti couldn't get up into the attic because he couldn't fly. Which was bothersome because, according to his uncle, he had the innate power of flight; he just didn’t know how to use it. In fact, it was Arti's power of flight that was keeping the palace floating in the sky. Without him, the palace would drop like a very large stone. Arti wasn't even aware he was doing it; his uncle harnessed his power with a spell.
Arti wouldn't have minded if he got to do some magic. But no. His uncle kept all the spells locked away up in the attic, and Arti couldn't get up there because he didn't know how to fly...
Bump, bump. BUMP!
What was that noise? Suddenly a cylinder fell through the hatch. It fell, stopped just above the floor, hovered, then shot back up. It ricocheted off the ceiling and fell to the floor with a 'crack!'
How strange. Arti crept closer. The cylinder looked like an imp-jar, and was wrapped in a sheet of brown paper sealed at the top with a twist.
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