I have a confession to make, while I did have AI on last night, I was so preoccupied with so many other things I didn’t give it my usual scrutinous attention. I did see the lady in yellow. The one that started as a 26 year-old and ended up a 50 year-old. I missed Paula’s presence. The two guys just don’t cut it. Talk about a tough sell.

So, feel free to fill me in. I do want to mention what I did this past Saturday. I went down to the Silicon Valley RWA chapter’s meeting. Great ladies there btw. They hosted an all day workshop put on by the very smart and very personable Margie Lawson. Empowering Character’s Emotions. I had so many epiphany moments Saturday my head was twitching. It’s still twitching! I cannot tell you how much I wish I had taken Margie’s workshop years ago. It made me pay more attention to my words. I told my friends Poppy and Tawny it was like taking off smudgy glasses. I can see clearly now. I can feel now. My writing is stronger, more vivid, more emotional. The effects of the workshop were immediate. I highly recommend if you have the opportunity to take Margie’s workshop in person to do it. She also does online workshops. She has one coming up in April. Follow the link to her web site and sign up, it will be the best money you’ve spent in a long time.

Have any of you out there taken her workshop? And what workshops have you taken that have given you the light bulb moments?

K*

I know this contest is a bit nerve wracking, but the rules are simple. Original lines posted must stay that way as you move up in the rounds. One new line per round. If it’s a dialogue sentence, you can have a dialogue tag after it, be sure to put the dialogue part in quotes. Post your subsequent line by midnight Friday. I try to keep a sharp eye on the lines as they come in and to let anyone know if they made a mistake and need to repost, but I miss things. There are a couple of hawk eyes out there who have brought discrepancies to my attention.
Anyhoo, relax and try to enjoy yourself.

So, yesterday I went to the doctor for my hand. I have arthritis in my right thumb. I’m right handed. My boys are to blame. For years, after football games or practice I rubbed them down. It was an assembly line of backs, calves and thighs. The constant rotating motion of my right hand and thumb wore down the cartilage between the last joint of my thumb. A few years ago I had an x-ray, and it was about 50% worn away. I got a cortisone shot into the joint, nearly passed out from the pain of the thick cortisone hitting my inflamed joint and then cried all the way home holding my hand up in the air like a big baby. So the hand has been bad for a while, but flared up with all of the writing and all of the holiday work. I finally made an appointment.
But I chickened out last week and canceled. I finally had to suck it up and go. I went yesterday. New doc takes another x-ray and now, I have no cartilage left. Surgery is in order. Um, well, I can’t do that, I have deadlines i tell the doc. He says, “Your hand can’t get any worse so it’s all about you living with the pain and decreased mobility.” I can live with that. Oh, and I get to go to a specialist who is going to build me a thumb splint. How sexy is that? I don’t really care, it will help, because I can’t have the surgery any time soon. So I did a very brave thing yesterday, I asked for the cortisone. My daughter was with me, because well, if it was like last time I would be in too much pain to make the short drive home. The doc gave me a shot of Novocain that burned so damn bad I thought I was gonna die. And because he gave me so much, I figured that was also the cortisone. I got up to leave. He told me to sit down. When it was time for the cortisone he took my thumb into his hand and told me to pull. Yikes! I’m such wuss. “It’ll hurt,” I whined. “Trust me, just pull.” I pulled away from him and he stuck that needle into my extended inflamed joint, and as I hyperventilated and he’s telling me to breath in then out and too hold still, I realized, um, it didn’t hurt. I could feel some pressure but it wasn’t painful. I was so conditioned to flinch when my hand was compromised I had myself all worked up and nearly fainting on the floor.
So, I felt so good, almost giddy, I drove home with a little detour for lunch, which included two spicy Bloody Mary’s and then home, then a nap, then I woke with excruciating pain in my hand. The Novocain had worn off, and the joint was screaming. I knew this am I would feel better, and now? No pain. zero, zilch,nada. Life is good. And the best part is,i can write for hours without the pain stopping me. Moral of the story. Don’t wait around when you need to take care of yourself. Just suck it up and do it, even if you know it will hurt or be uncomfortable. And this includes getting a mammogram! Speaking of which, I need to make my appointment.
I love getting my boobs smushed! Okay, I don’t but well, it’s just dumb not to. So go get one. Now!

From the judge: “This was MUCH harder than last time!… The point here, I guess, is that it is a first line(s) contest, and the most intriguing pull you in.” She also said in a later email she felt the lines this year were much stronger than last year.

I also want to add, I think the competition is much stronger this year. I am sad though to report that several contestants either didn’t post their second line or posted after the deadline. YOU HAVE ALL WEEK! DO NOT WAIT. She who hesitates…

Now, remember, in the comment section of this blog post, put the two lines that got you here, followed by the third line. You have until midnight this Friday to do so. Five entries will be culled in subsequent rounds all the way to the final round.

Good luck!!!

1. Elizabeth squeezed her eyes tight and turned her face away from the wicked-looking blade. She’d seen what it could do.
2. Kenzie Summers swiveled on the bar stool, her gaze encompassing every inch of the lively room in an attempt to find someone to ruin her reputation. Every hormone in her body clicked to attention when she saw him, the epitome of pure sin, weaving through the gyrating couples on the dance floor.
3. The gossip about Cassie Russel swirled around town like a nasty dust. When it got back to the originator, she smiled, mission accomplished.
4. I was in sophomore English–midweek, early November, daydreaming about life after high school–when Sam Blaine made his first move and Jane Austen made her first comment.
“Ellie-ee-ee,” the sinfully cute but annoying-as-hell Sam Blaine chanted softly from his seat behind me.
5. “Maybe you should consider getting a boob job.”
“What?” Kelsie Collins said, pausing mid-bite to look at her mother from across the dinner table; which was, thankfully, tucked away in the far corner of the busy restaurant.
6. When I walked into the office, it felt like the place was holding its breath.
“We’ve got a new client,” Laurel said in a low voice as I passed her desk.
7. On Valentine’s Day, a Friday, Emma O’Manny woke up with two kids, a minivan, a house in the Portland suburbs, and a husband with a sick sense of humor. Three days later, she woke up with a headache, a bottle of Tums, no Kleenex — and a purpose.
8. Jordan Blake always figured he’d go to hell someday, but he never expected it to be this soon. His first clue was a no-brainer, the sign posted outside the town limits read: Hades, Colorado, population two hundred and six.
9. The man lay face-up in a pool of his own blood. Kyra Walsh recoiled but not in terror, she’d seen dead bodies before.
10. Jack Sutton heard a whisper of movement a split second before an arm wrapped around his neck and something sharp plunged into his gut. The shocking reality that he’d just been stabbed registered as he was shoved to the cold, grease-stained concrete floor, his entire midsection on fire.
11. I must’ve pissed off someone at Psych-Ops to pull down an assignment in Forgotten Detroit. I’d been deep inside the maze-like streets of the city’s underbelly half an hour too long, which made me the poster girl for cramped and crabby.
12. Death comes to all of us in many ways. It doesn’t consider how it leaves us to the mercy of others who must view our remains.
13. “I’m sorry to call, but this is bad,” her father said, his voice melodramatic, like over-rehearsed lines from a low-budget horror flick.
Quick as the question, “Bad for you or wife number five?” formed in her mind, attorney Kaitlyn Davis dismissed it because she already knew the answer.
14. Wealth no longer amused Hugh Hennigan and tonight it suffocated him. Disengaging himself from the beautiful sable-wrapped woman climbing into his lap, he breathed, “Constance, please.”
15. The town was quaint, post card perfect; no one would ever guess it held so much malice.
Deceptive, the whole friggin’ thing was so deceptive – she smirked at the thought – it wasn’t until you got a good look at the underbelly of the place that the uneasiness began to set in.
16. “I can make a woman come using just my mouth.”
George Beringer squinted through an alcoholic haze at his friend Damian Hunt, Viscount Atherton, trying to figure out exactly what Damian meant by that remark.
17. “Not no, but hell no,” Maggie said as they stood behind the stage in the massive ballroom of the Marriott hotel in downtown Dallas.
“We’re desperate, Mag, and Jessie said she’d do it if you would,” Carrie pleaded.
18. Joshua shuddered as the massive red door creaked open, allowing the stench of brimstone to steal into the room. Soon he would have to pass through that horrifying door–unless he could come up with a way to evade his fate.
19. To say I was running away would be to admit I couldn’t face the horror that had been inflicted upon me four months earlier. But at the moment, looking out the window of my fourteenth floor apartment, I was unwilling to acknowledge my life had been tilted off its axis.
20. Jordan James paced the tight confines of the elevator, her pounding feet echoed loudly in the tight space. Hospital staff, sick children, and anxious parents huddled in a corner and peered at her nervously.
21. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be the female version of either Sherlock Holmes or Wong Fei Hung, and that pretty much sums up my life.
We’re on our way to our grandpa’s house when we hear the yelling.
22. “Your sorry ass is going to be even sorrier, Jimmy Ray!”
The bat connected with a sickening, satisfying crunch.
23. Adam McKinnon stretched out on a tree branch and studied the full moon, his cool blue eyes contemplative. Several hundred feet down and off to the right, his small-looking but cozy cabin sat, puffing cheery clouds of smoke into the warm air from a stone chimney.
24. Kyra Delano sipped from her glass of whiskey straight, savouring the sharp burn on her tongue and chill of ice melting in its wake.
The intoxicating fumes invaded her refined sense of smell, removed her for a moment from the repugnant scent of cigarette smoke, old beer spills and sweat – a prerequisite for every nightclub she’d visited this last month.
25. Fighting the natural urge to fade away, disappear, and remain in reclusion, Lelandi Wildhaven spied the seedy tavern down the street where she would set up her first night of surveillance.
Why had her sister ended up dead–here, of all the godforsaken places in the States?
26. “All men are lying, cheating sex-fiends,” said an irate caller on the radio talk show.
“Amen, sister,” Kat Windsor said as she parked her rented SUV behind Hank’s Antiques and secured the 9 mm Glock semiautomatic in her shoulder holster.
27. “Damn loser recruit,” Captain Connors muttered as he sweltered in the alleyway, forced to endure the scents of week-old Chow Mein coming from the Dumpster he leaned against.
A mingle of sweet citrus and coconut strong enough to turn his stomach overpowered even the stench of the restaurant refuse surrounding him as the hairs rose on his arms.
28. “Just keep on driving, Mister,” Moxie said as she struggled to keep the gun in her hand from shaking as she aimed it at the man’s head.
He turned to look down the barrel of the gun, his eyes then trailing up her arm to look into her face.
29. Through the darkness the child ran, dogging the woman’s heels. Short, angular legs that had never seen an ounce of baby fat, churned through the sweating foliage.
30. “Despite what you apparently believe,” Lieutenant Kathryn Glace snapped, the pale skin across her cheeks tightening and tinting peach, “I’ve given this a great deal of thought—the family is legitimate, and their unique. . .talents. . have proven significantly helpful in the past.”
“I know who they are,” Nick said, trying to iron the grit from his voice.
31. “Are you out of your mind–you can’t kidnap a cover model!”
“I don’t see why not—he’s only a man—not God.”
32. “Son, you’ve got more metal in you than the Terminator.”
Immobile in a hospital bed with one leg in traction, one arm fractured, and bruises painted on his body like modern art on a canvas, Garrett McCloud found no humor in his doctor’s joke.
33.Keaton, Lady Denham, cursed her bosom as she balanced on the ledge over her father’s study.
“Bloody breasts keep growing like the weeds in father’s garden,” she muttered to herself as she took another small step on the narrow ledge, unable to fully flatten herself as she had, even six months ago.
34.She’s become nothing more than a common thief.
No, not common – nothing about Egyptologist Katherine Meyer could ever be construed as common, especially when she was legally dead.
35. Lord, that man was gorgeous.
Of course, that was why I was standing in his office on a cold, wet Tuesday morning, dressed only in a form-fitting ruby red dress and matching strappy heels.
36.Lindy perused Steven’s form for the one hundredth time since lunch, wondering if today would be the day she would seduce him. Over two months of dating and the hottest it had gotten was a little open mouth kissing.
37. No doubt about it–Cosmo Fortune was a royal pain in the ass. Oh, he tried to make you think his brain-power had receded like his hairline, mumbled his way out of messes with his folksy charm, and all the while he juggled his numerous murky dealings with the same precise arcs as those flaming torches he now wielded onstage.
38. “Some wild animal is going to eat you alive!”
The voice coming through the cell phone had Kia rolling her eyes, as she turned her car off the main road and through the narrow band of dark woods leading to her new home.
39. He’d introduced her to passion in payment for his life. And yet, the woman who would be Captain André Marin’s salvation had closed her mind against him, locking him out of her dreams.
40. “Damn, it’s hotter than the devil’s backyard out here.” Castana Castillo took her hands from the steering wheel just long enough to swipe at the river of sweat running down the nape of her neck and to adjust the volume on George Strait’s “Amarillo by Morning”.
41. “Jesus Mari, when’s the last time you were laid?” The question, coming from this particular girlfriend, wasn’t really surprising; that she’d blurt it out in the middle of a crowded nightclub… well, it made me squirm.
42. Who said dying was easy?
Ruby May stepped out the front door of the Delta Funeral Home in what had been her good luck dress–until they buried her in it.
43. Trevor Carlton hated threats-when they were directed at him. He snapped the cell phone shut on his controlling wife’s warning not to drink excessively during her father’s wake; he planned to celebrate the old man’s death, just as he planned to celebrate hers.
44. “Maybe I should become a lesbian for a week,” I blurted.
Carol choked on what was left of her watered- down frozen strawberry daiquiri.
45. So what if he’d gained a reputation for being wicked. Dair Curator simply did what his race had done for thousands of years–watch over mortals.
46. Like a snake, coiled and ready to strike, it’d been waiting for him when he’d arrived at work. And as it had when he’d first read it, his stomach knotted and cold fear wrapped around him.
47.Should she just kill him?
She wanted to, and lord knew he deserved it.
48. Across the crowded ferry, the little girl looked up and Gabe Moreau ducked his head, praying she’d sit tight and stay the hell away. Blunt fingernails trenched into sweat slicked palms and a phantom tingle in his right palm itched to feel the reassuring weight of his standard issue Glock.
49. As much as he’d hoped Lacey McLaren had gained a hundred pounds and sprouted horns in the five years since he’d last seen her, she hadn’t. Noah cursed, unable to pull his gaze away; if anything, she was more beautiful now than when they’d first met.
50. Okay, let me say from the get-go, I do not have a problem with cops but right now, though, a cop has a real problem with me. What might give that away is that I’m standing on the side of the road in handcuffs with cold eggs in my pockets, making the fact that I really have to pee more pressing with every passing minute.
51. A dead man asked me to trust you?
“Give me one good reason why I should,” Kiera Richards demanded.
52. Mike Gallagher dropped dead—again.
And the Dead Mike Vixens shrieked, “Go, Mike! Go, Mike! DMVs rule!”
53. “What’s Santa doing with a shotgun, partner?” Detective Christina James asked her partner as she strapped on her Kevlar vest.
“He got fired. Merry Christmas.”
54. Couldn’t she just go back to sleep and forget she’d ever poisoned him? But no, all night she tossed and turned and wished she’d thrown those smelly, greenish-tinged chicken breasts away because now he’d never call her.
55. Sure Mary Poppins seemed delightful and charming when she was shaping the futures of Jane and Michael Banks, but now that she’s adopted me as a pet project, not so much. Okay, so chances are it’s not really her–my journal just happens to be channeling someone with exactly the same MO.

So, I didn’t even bother jotting down notes last night. Like I said yesterday, I’m not feeling sorry for anyone any more. But, I lied. I forget the names of the two gals but the first one who begged to go to Hollywood, after she was given unanimous thumbs down, broke my heart. I felt bad for her desperation. I felt more terrible for her when she said she was tired of hearing no.

And the other gal? The one who had made it before but got knocked out at the group rounds? Her desperate begging made me uncomfortable, and I wanted her to stop, and to listen to what the judges were saying. She refused. There is nothing sadder than watching someone beg from someone who wants nothing to do with them. The very least one can do is maintain their dignity. It was hard to watch someone’s dreams go up in smoke, but here’s the bottom line: This completion is for the next American Idol, not the next quasi, sort of American Idol. They want the best of the best. It wasn’t that chick’s time, she needed to go back and work harder.

It’s the same with publishing. It’s ugly, it hurts and it makes us desperate, so desperate we sometimes settle. I’m telling you not to. Follow you heart, but play smart. If you’re doing the same thing and it’s not working? Do it different. Don’t be so damn stubborn and think you know how to do it. Trust me, my arrogance set me back at least two years. I finally wised up and listened. I also decided I wasn’t going to settle for a lousy agent because at least that agent wanted me or a publisher that was not willing to grow me.

It’s kind of ironic that this contest is coinciding with AI right now. While there are those first lines that got the ax, and may someday come back to be nominated for a RITA, I believe the creme will rise to the top and make it to the editor’s desk, and eventualy a sale.

And just because you didn’t make it to the second round or may not make it to the next, learn from what is gong on here, take from it what you can, and next time come out with both barrels firing.

K*

What an insult to Elvis. And speaking of Elvis, the kid who said he was Elvis? I admit, I was entertained, but, c’mon, did he really think he came close to sounding like the King?
Um, no.

Okay, so I really liked the cheerleader captain. But it went down hill after that, until we came to Sundance. Fab voice.
Then a fast slide even lower.
What did Travis think he was doing? He had me sold that I would be in tears because if his emotional performance. And then? He did what he did, which I am not sure how to classify. I sat there with my mouth open.

When Tofer (Christopher) the one who had the hots for Paula opened his mouth to sing I had to leave the room.
The gal who said she didn’t dress over the top, the one with her breasts (and very lovely breasts I might add) popping out as she gyrated in front of the judges, oh my, I was pulling for her, but alas, once again when she opened her mouth it was not to be.

For me the bright spot of the evening was Melinda, the backup singer. The one who blew the socks off all three judges. I thought she was perfectly adorable and look forward to seeing her in the finals.

Ok, I am convinced most of these people are told, just like the guests on Jerry Springer that they are going to be made fun of. And while they agree, I do believe they have some secret hope of making it to Hollywood. How the seriously talent-challenged have the audacity to get angry when they are told they stink up the house is beyond me. Give me a break. They know what they are in for, take it like a man or a woman and have some class. After the performances tonight, and I use that term lightly, I am officially not feeling sorry for anyone who steps in front of Paula, Randy and Simon. They know exactly what they are up against.

Sigh, for the first time since I began watching this series, I am anxious to just get to Hollywood.

Okay now that I have that off my chest, we have entrants who haven’t posted their second line. Reminder: you have until midnight this Friday. Be sure to post your lines in the comment section of the Second round is on post, dated Monday 22.

If you post in the comment section to this blog post, you will be disqualified. And speaking of second lines, isn’t it amazing to see some of the first lines shore up with the second line? And yes, a few go the opposite way. Either way, it makes us realize, how very important it is to make every word count.

I’m off to plot with my challenge girls today. So I won’t be around for much chatter, but feel free to talk amongst yourselves.

Oh, which brings me to my question. What type of first line grabs you? Dialogue, introspection or narration? And, off the top of your head what is a favorite first line of yours? Mine is, “Which one of you bitches is my mother?” Love it!

K*

Okay, ladies, while my agent judge struck swift and sure that doesn’t mean she had an easy time of it. Thank you, agent judge! Now here are the 65 first lines that make it to the second round. You have until midnight this Friday to post your original first line (no changes) and the next line. Same rules apply. One sentence for your second line, and all entries must be posted in the comment section of this post. Good luck, and make those second lines count!

1. “Your sorry ass is going to be even sorrier, Jimmy Ray!”
2. Keaton, Lady Denham, cursed her bosom as she balanced on the ledge over her father’s study.
3. Just when Christine Abernathy thought life couldn’t get any worse her umbrella collapsed, drenching her with icy Oklahoma rain.
4. Elizabeth squeezed her eyes tight and turned her face away from the wicked-looking blade.
5. Jack Sutton heard a whisper of movement a split second before an arm wrapped around his neck and something sharp plunged into his gut.
6. “What does he think I am – a moron?”
7. So what if he’d gained a reputation for being wicked.
8. As much as he’d hoped Lacey McLaren had gained a hundred pounds and sprouted horns in the five years since he’d last seen her, she hadn’t.
9. Like a snake, coiled and ready to strike, it’d been waiting for him when he’d arrived at work.
10. Kenzie Summers swiveled on the bar stool, her gaze encompassing every inch of the lively room in an attempt to find someone to ruin her reputation.
11. Who said dying was easy?
12. Through the darkness the child ran, dogging the woman’s heels.
13. Kyra Delano sipped from her glass of whiskey straight, savoring the sharp burn on her tongue and chill of ice melting in its wake.
14. “Damn, it’s hotter than the devil’s backyard out here.”
15. I was in sophomore English–midweek, early November, daydreaming about life after high school–when Sam Blaine made his first move and Jane Austen made her first comment.
16. The man lay face-up in a pool of his own blood.
17. To say I was running away would be to admit I couldn’t face the horror that had been inflicted upon me four months earlier.
18. Sure Mary Poppins seemed delightful and charming when she was shaping the futures of Jane and Michael Banks, but now that she’s adopted me as a pet project, not so much.
19. No doubt about it–Cosmo Fortune was a royal pain in the ass.
20. “Some wild animal is going to eat you alive!”
21. She’d become nothing more than a common thief.
22. Death comes to all of us in many ways.
23. “Jesus Mari, when’s the last time you were laid?”
24. “I can make a woman come using just my mouth.”
25. Lord, that man was gorgeous.
26. “Just keep on driving, Mister,” Moxie said as she struggled to keep the gun in her hand from shaking as she aimed it at the man’s head.
27. Jordan Blake always figured he’d go to hell someday, but he never expected it to be this soon.
28. In the grand scheme of life, was slipping Viagra into your husband’s dinner really a bad thing?
29. “Petersen, what in the name of God are you doing?”
30. The town was quaint, post card perfect; no one would ever guess it held so much malice.
31. The gossip about Cassie Russell swirled around town like a nasty dust.
32. Maybe she should just kill Jackson.
33. He’d introduced her to passion in payment for his life.
34. “Despite what you apparently believe,” Lieutenant Kathryn Glace snapped, the pale skin across her cheeks tightening and tinting peach, “I’ve given this a great deal of thought—the family is legitimate, and their unique. . .talents. . have proven significantly helpful in the past.”
35. Joshua shuddered as the massive red door creaked open, allowing the stench of brimstone to steal into the room.
36. On Valentine’s Day, a Friday, Emma O’Manny woke up with two kids, a minivan, a house in the Portland suburbs, and a husband with a sick sense of humor.
37. The campfire smoke curled around him, mingling with scents of dust and fry bread.
38. Across the crowded ferry, the little girl looked up and Gabe Moreau ducked his head, praying she’d sit tight and stay the hell away.
39. “Are you out of your mind–you can’t kidnap a cover model!”
40. Lindy perused Steven’s form for the one hundredth time since lunch, wondering if today would be the day she would seduce him.
41. Fighting the natural urge to fade away, disappear, and remain in reclusion, Lelandi Wildhaven spied the seedy tavern down the street where she would set up her first night of surveillance.
42. Couldn’t she just go back to sleep and forget she’d ever poisoned him?
43. “I’m sorry to call, but this is bad,” her father said, his voice melodramatic, like over-rehearsed lines from a low-budget horror flick.
44. I couldn’t sell my jewelry because it would be traceable so I simply took the wedding and engagement rings and dropped them down a sewer – a fitting gesture, and quicker than divorce.
45. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be the female version of either Sherlock Holmes or Wong Fei Hung, and that pretty much sums up my life.
46. Wealth no longer amused Hugh Hennigan and tonight it suffocated him.
47. Mike Gallagher dropped dead–again.
48. When I walked into the office, it felt like the place was holding its breath.
49. Adam McKinnon stretched out on a tree branch and studied the full moon, his cool blue eyes contemplative.
50. Jordan James paced the tight confines of the elevator, her pounding feet echoed loudly in the tight space.
51. “Son, you’ve got more metal in you than the Terminator.”
52. “Not no, but hell no,” Maggie said as they stood behind the stage in the massive ballroom of the Marriott Hotel in downtown Dallas.
53. “Maybe I should become a lesbian for a week,” I blurted.
54. “On the sole count of first degree murder, how does the jury find?”
55. “All men are lying, cheating sex-fiends,” said an irate caller on the radio talk show.
56. “Maybe you should consider getting a boob job.”
57. “Gone? What the hell do you mean, gone?”
58. A more asinine circumstance than he now faced was hard to imagine.
59. “Damn loser recruit,” Captain Connors muttered as he sweltered in the alleyway, forced to endure the scents of week-old Chow Mein coming from the Dumpster he leaned against.
60. A dead man asked me to trust you?
61. “”What’s Santa doing with a shotgun, partner?” Detective Christina James asked her partner as she strapped on her Kevlar vest.
62. I must’ve pissed off someone at Psych-Ops to pull down an assignment in Forgotten Detroit.
63. Trevor Carlton hated threats–when they were directed at him.
64. Katy made her way to the phone, stumbling past the latest tawdry romantic novel, the hero’s shimmering pectors facing up, thus drawing her glance once gain as she drip, drip, dripped to the counter where her cell lay, sure that her falling on her new Ginsu knives, a make-up gift from her circus performing boyfriend, Mr. Shriek, was sure to put a damper on the evening ahead.
65. Okay, let me say from the get-go, I do not have a problem with cops but right now, though, a cop has a real problem with me.

Great job ladies!!

K*

First my exciting news: I heard from my agent this morning. I have my first foreign sale! GOOD GIRL is going Japanese! I cannot wait to see the cover. I will of course show y’all the minute I get it. I’d say something really smart in Japanese here, but, um, I don’t know any Japanese. Except, sake, and bonsai! Does sushi count?

Now contest update. I heard from my agent judge this am. She is quick! I have the 65 who make it to the second round (don’t ask! I haven’t even looked to see who they belong to and I’m not until I get ready to post the lines that made it to round two). I will post those lines Monday. But what was equally interesting to me in the email I received from this agent was she said, she would request 20-25 of the entries based on the first line alone! Wow, and she said she would follow the contest and most likely make requests. So best lines forward ladies!

Ok, I have something cute to share. I’m at Starbucks the other day having a latte with my mother in law, and she says, “I should read your blob.” I spewed. What made it so funny (other than the obvious, God love her, my mil is totally without one computer clue) is the other day I received an email from my mom with a reference in her post to my ‘blob.’ lol, I love you Mom and Marlene! It’s why I dedicated SKIN to you both.

Now, on to the ugly.

Okay, I am going to try really, really hard not to be too snarky. I will just casually jot down a few of my observations on this evening’s American Idol.

So, is it me or is Randy just being a prick on purpose? Or is that his true nature? He started out bad but actually chilled as the show wore on, probably because he was so exhausted from holding his hands over his ears.
And what’s with Rosie trashing Paula? I didn’t think either night Paula looked freaky.

Now the first chick, the one throwing her hair around and chewing the gum? What was she thinking? Oh, my gawd then she sang! Oh, double gawd, she argued and made an ass of herself. Geez La-weez. And then to have a police escort out the door. Clueless in Seattle.

The next girl? What don’t these contestants get about, no? I felt really bad for her, but c’mon, no means no. And then there was Darwin/Misha…and her mom. Why on earth would she go braless? I’m not touching the outfit. And you know what? I’m going to shut up right now. Okay, I have one more thing to say. Misha and her mom were very gracious there in the end. There, now I am not going to say another word. I’m going to sit here and enjoy the show and bite my tongue.

Ack! I can’t keep quiet! Nicolas from Utah is singing Unchained Melody. I felt so bad for him when Simon asked, “What the bloody hell was that?” My prediction is, Nicolas will get cast as Dwight’s brother on the Office.

And then there was day two: I have a question. What the hell is in the water up there in the great North West? I don’t think I have ever seen such a group of unique people. Kenneth, the kid who came in, the one Simon said looked like a monkey (I believe he actually meant a lemur) and his friend, Jonathan afterward were too adorable. Even though Kenneth got a bit uppity there in the end, but then so would I if Simon told me I looked like one of those big-eyed creatures in the jungle.

Okay and the guy in the red? OMG he thinks he’s Freddie Mercury. Zipping mouth shut.

Thoughts?

Ok, so, for those of you who followed the contest last year, you may remember that I limited it to the first 50 entries. But because it was such a hit I upped it this year to 75 entries with the first two rounds to be culled by 10, then once we were at 55 we’d go 5 per week. And as I promised last year, each round was judged by a published author. Same goes for this year, with one interesting development.

I had an epiphany whilst on my daily jaunt around the neighborhood (ok not daily, but maybe 4 days out of the week). A published author judge wasn’t going to cut it for me this time around. Not for the first round, which is so crucial. You see last year the judges were so polarized in their tastes it drove me crazy! I don’t want to have the first 10 entries culled by a judge who has very specific personal tastes. So, I asked myself, “Karin, how would you solve this dilemma?” Light bulb moment! Who better to judge what would hook an agent or editor but an agent or editor? So, since I already have an editor as my final judge I thought I’d ask my agent to cull the first 10 entries. But then I thought, nah, I want all judges to remain anonymous, not that I would say it was Kim but someone might ask and then well, I don’t want to fib, so I asked another agent. This agent is in my opinion on the A list. I asked, (ok begged, pleaded and groveled a little bit) and she very graciously said, yes, and added she thought it would be fun. I then encouraged her to keep an eye on the rounds every week. She might see something she likes. So, this week the first round will be judged by a very capable literary agent.

Now on a scarier note. My youngest child managed to get his driver’s license today. He doesn’t have it more than a half hour and asks if he can take his Bronco (it’s a tank) to get gas just down the street and fill up. I about lost my lunch. Fear paralyzed me. This is my baby, the last one, the one who thinks he freaking knows everything (ok all my kids do) the one who has always lived life as if he were bullet proof. So what is a freaked out mother to do?
I had him call when he got to the gas station, then when he was ready to pull out. (I of course forbid him to talk on his cell phone while he was driving.) He just called and wanted to know if he could go to his friend’s house and hang out. When I hesitated, my mommy instinct screaming, no! come home, his father yelled to me to cut the damn apron string for good. I flipped him off, and then grudgingly told my son to call me when he got to his friend’s house.

I’m too old for this shit.

K*

PS, no Cop Talk for the duration of the contest and American Idol. I’ll let Officer Friendly come back in a couple of months. It’s all about us right now.

To find out if your entry made it, go to the GAME ON post and click on comments. If your entry is comment #1-40, 44-49, 51,52, 54-64, 66-76, 78-81, or 83 you are in! This week my judge (a published author) will cull 10 first lines. The 65 who make it to round two will be posted some time Monday January 22nd under the blog post titled Second Round. The 65 entrants will then have until midnight Friday January 26th to post their second line. (post your fist line then second line, you will post 2 lines) Same one line rules apply. DO NOT POST YOUR SECOND LINE HERE! Wait until the Second Round blog post is posted Monday to find out if you made the cut, then post in the comments section there.

Feel free to chatter here and throughout the week. AI begins tonight, so those of you watching feel free to share.

OK, good luck everyone!!!

K*

First of all congrats to all of the entrants! Wow some fab first lines!
Now, I was up very late writing, and just now after reading all of the comments and reading a few emails I see we have some hiccups with some of the entries. Just thinking of disqualifying someone is making me sick to my stomach. I watched the lines very closely as they came in last night, and those that came in wrong I did my best to notify the entrant and tell them to get back to the blog and correct their line. ASAP. The correction had to be made before there were 75 bona fide entries. So, give me some time to drink coffee, go through my email and sort everything out.