July Workshop with Pitch Wars Mentor, Dan Koboldt & host, Brenda Drake!
Jul28

July Workshop with Pitch Wars Mentor, Dan Koboldt & host, Brenda Drake!

Welcome to the July Query & 1st Page Workshop with some of our PitchWars mentors. We selected many wonderful writers from a drawing held in June to participate in the workshop. Each mentor has graciously critiqued either a query or first page for two writers. The writers are anonymous and the titles/genres are hidden. Follow along all month to view the critiques. We welcome comments and further suggestions, but please keep them kind and respectful. Here are the next two mentors and their critiques …   Dan Koboldt Website | Twitter Dan Koboldt works in genetics, writes in science fiction, and does his best not to mix up the two. He’s a husband, a father of three, and an avid bowhunter. He hosts #SFFpit, a twice-annual Twitter pitching event (inspired by #PitMad) geared at sci-fi and fantasy authors. He’s written a sci-fi novel about a Vegas stage magician who takes high-tech illusions of magic into a medieval world that has the real thing. He’s represented by Jennie Goloboy of Red Sofa Literary Agency.   Dan’s critiques …   Critique #61: First Page When my grandfather learned I was pregnant with my daughter, alone at nineteen, he hugged me and chuckled near my ear. “You naughty girl.” That total acceptance and lack of admonishment was something I felt so completely, but only from him. (Good line). I certainly didn’t give it to myself. (redundant). I was a single mother, but not the kind who did things like this. Yet here I was, in a situation where I wasn’t in control. I was in fear for my life. (A lot of telling is going on here. SHOW us the situation, and let us realize the stakes on our own). Again. If I died this night, or if I had to live with shooting someone’s son, my headline would begin, “Stereotypical Slutty Single Mom,” that’s all anyone would remember. But that’s not who I was. I was an otherwise good girl. (more telling, but I mind it less here because it’s in character). I’d grown up active in the Protestant church I liked to say my paternal grandmother built, as she held court every Sunday in the front pew. I was a mom who put her child first. I sacrificed friends and youthful transgression, which frankly I’d done plenty of for my good girl roots anyway. If I was found they found me dead, and the trail was followed the trail to that bachelorette party, to the two strippers that followed me home, high-fiving each other in my rear view mirror, that’s the only part of my story anyone would remember in the history of our...

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