TITLE: TRUTH DARE DISAPPEAR
GENRE: Lower YA Adventure
LOGLINE: Geneva 2025 - No sooner have thirteen-year-old Thomas and his mother masterminded an escape to America than he’s snatched from home. A rebel priest dumps Thomas in a hidden monastery in the Italian Alps where he discovers he’s a pawn in a Vatican plan to bring down the State. Worse, there’s a secret in his past he’ll never outrun and it’s about to catch him up with devastating consequences.
FIRST 250:
Thomas huddled behind a garden bush and squinted through the night towards his house. A grungy man was inside talking fast with his mother. If his eyes weren’t playing tricks, he’d bet, hand on heart, it was a rebel priest - one of those diggers with their long hair, ragged clothes and bulging muscles fresh from the work camps.
Weird. They didn’t break surface often but when they did they were dangerous. And bad to associate with. That’s what his mother had told him and now look at her. Look at the priest - in their living room – pacing like a spooked cat.
Sal whined sensing the tension.
“Shush up,” he whispered, hand on her collar. “Priest alert.” Her terrier fur hackled with an attack of goose bumps. If dogs got goose bumps.
Thomas squeezed his baseball good and tight. One shot, right through the window he was thinking. A kid fooling around - a mistake - it could work. Knock the priest unconscious, grab his mom and run.
He stood, felt the slight give of the grass at his feet. They were so close to escaping to America nothing could stand in their way. Especially not a crazed priest.
Best not to over-think. He picked up the bat, threw the ball and with a sniper’s eye swung in the direction of the haloed windows. It felt like batting the moon to heaven or hell. Knowing Thomas's luck it'd be hell.
I found the first sentence of the logline confusing. I keep stumbling on the "than." I would invert it like this: [Thirteen-year-old Thomas is snatched from home as soon as he and his mother mastermind their escape to America.]
ReplyDeleteThe last sentence was also confusing, but I think it could be fixed with a comma: "it’s about to catch him[,] with devastating consequences."
I also have some suggestions for your first 250:
A grungy man was inside[,] talking fast with his mother. If his eyes weren’t playing tricks, he’d bet, hand on heart, it was a rebel priest[--]one of those diggers with []long hair, ragged clothes and bulging muscles[,] fresh from the work camps.
That’s what his mother had told him and now look at her. [The] priest [was] in their living room[,] pacing like a spooked cat.
“Shush up,” [Thomas] whispered, hand on her collar. “Priest alert.”
One shot, right through the window[,] he was thinking.
They were so close to escaping to America[;] nothing could stand in their way.
He picked up the bat, threw the ball and[,] with a sniper’s eye[,] swung in the direction of the haloed windows.
Knowing Thomas's luck[,] it'd be hell.
I agree, the first sentence of the logline was confusing. I had to re-read a few times. Also, what State? Italy? The USA? The last sentence is vague and could be applied to a bunch of novels (maybe even mine with a gender change). Try to add specifics.
ReplyDeleteIn your first 250, just add Patchi's changes. Besides that, it was good :)
The logline is very intriguing and kind of scary. Yeah, guess that first line could be a little clearer. I get a really good sense of the scene, and the urgency here.
ReplyDeleteConfused at: "hackled with an attack of goose bumps." Otherwise, I felt a good amount of tension. Nice work. Best of Luck!
Hi.
ReplyDeleteI think I liked the logline you posted last time better.. This one didn't have the part about religion being banned in Europe, and I thought that added a lot to it.
I liked the small changes you made to the 250. I like that the dog whines now instead of shivers, and that you have the MC say "priest alert." I still like the sentence about the "if dogs got goosebumps" but I don't like the lead up to it. Is this an instance where you should kill your little darling?
Best of luck!
Thanks so much you guys. You've got me thinking. And banging my head against the screen. Always a good thing :)
ReplyDeleteI agree with everyone else about the pitch. I think some combination of the critiques here with the older one might do well.
ReplyDeleteThomas huddled behind a garden bush and squinted through the night towards his house. A grungy man was inside talking fast with his mother. If his (I'd specify Thomas here. It's clear you mean him, but the his refers to the priest.) eyes weren’t playing tricks, he’d bet, hand on heart (is that like a really intense swear? Is it a cultural thing? Is there a way you could imply this without the break in flow for 'hand on hear'?), it was a rebel priest - one of those diggers with their long hair, ragged clothes and bulging muscles fresh from the work camps.
Weird. They didn’t break surface often (Digging priest!?! I like where this is going, but I'm curious what genre this is. Alternate world? Or are priest so forced into work that everyone refers to them like this? Since you don't specify alternate world or fantasy, I'm unsure as to how literal to take this) but when they did they were dangerous. And bad to associate with. That’s what his mother had told him and now look at her. Look at the priest - in their living room – pacing like a spooked cat.
Sal whined sensing the tension. (General comment--you're missing a lot of commas. Watch out for that.)(Also, the voice and character hints here about the mother and the MC are great).
“Shush up,” he whispered, hand on her collar. “Priest alert.” Her terrier fur hackled with an attack of goose bumps. If dogs got goose bumps. (They do! It's common to most mammals and pretty cool. That's not really relevant, just fun. I doubt MC knowing or not knowing that matters.)
Thomas squeezed his baseball good and tight. One shot, right through the window he was thinking. A kid fooling around - a mistake - it could work. Knock the priest unconscious, grab his mom and run. (Run out of...their own house? Very kid-like plan. Like it.)
He stood, felt the slight give of the grass at his feet. They were so close to escaping to America nothing could stand in their way. Especially not a crazed priest.
Best not to over-think. He picked up the bat, threw the ball and with a sniper’s eye swung in the direction of the haloed windows. It felt like batting the moon to heaven or hell. Knowing Thomas's luck it'd be hell. (A good place to stop in this case. A powerful final sentence.)
Good luck!