Day Eleven of July’s First Page Workshop with Pitch Wars Mentors … Stephanie Scott & Brighton Walsh
Jul15

Day Eleven of July’s First Page Workshop with Pitch Wars Mentors … Stephanie Scott & Brighton Walsh

Welcome to July’s First Page Workshop with some of our past and present PitchWars mentors. From a Rafflecopter lottery drawing, we selected many wonderful writers to participate in the workshop. Each mentor has graciously critiqued a first page for one lucky writer. The writers are anonymous. Follow along all month to view the first page critiques. We welcome comments and further suggestions, but please keep them kind and respectful. Here are the next two mentors and their critiques … Stephanie Scott Website | Twitter | Goodreads | Facebook | Goodreads Stephanie Scott writes Young Adult for teens and those young in spirit. Her debut ALTERATIONS is set for release by Bloomsbury Spark. She’s an active member of Romance Writers of America and its online YA chapter YARWA. She enjoys dance fitness and cat memes, and Pinterest is driving her broke. One current life goal is to cosplay Hoth Leia from The Empire Strikes Back. Born and raised in Kalamazoo where there are no zoos, she’s a Midwest girl at heart. She now lives outside of Chicago with her tech-of-all-trades husband. You can find her chatting about TV and all things books on twitter and Instagram at @StephScottYA Stephanie’s first page critique … Where was a time-traveling DeLorean when you needed it? Not here. Not in tiny Armario. Kathryn considered this problem. Oh, to be anywhere but here. Yet here she was for the millionth time – okay maybe the hundredth – outside Winston’s Ice Cream Parlor, searching for him. I really like this opening. I wonder if you could, without going overboard, add any detail to time/place; is it daytime and hot out, is the shop in a small town downtown, or in a mall? Also, can you name the ‘him’ or is there a reason the identity is left as a mystery? An annoying breeze lifted her tangle of curls every which way as she peered through the store window. She scrutinized the mass of customers and rolled her reliable skateboard back and forth. Nine times to be exact. The nine times detail shows so much. Nice. Inside, a glint of sunlight reflected off a shiny napkin holder. Not a smudge on it. Impressive. Red-and-white-striped clerks sponged sticky counters and swept up litters of straw sleeves and soiled napkins. Several classmates huddled at a back booth. Two blond heads. Great. The Watson twins. Too bad there’s no disinfectant to wipe clean the entire crew, Curls, the voice echoed inside her head. She shook away the words, probing further the crowded creamery while avoiding the curious gazes (including the icy glare of Isabella Watson). Kathryn refused to lose her focus;...

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