Well, I received a 'Thanks but no thanks' letter from Nelson Publishers. *Big Sigh* But I am not defeated. I have decided to trust God (a daily thing for me) and I am signing up for the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writer's Conference in August. Please pray that God will help us get the monetary means to do this venture.
As I am thinking of the prospect of a huge conference, I have reread the beginning of my book and I realized that it needed something...humor. I have humor throughout the novel but the first part of chapter one was lacking. So, if you would be so kind...I am going to paste that rewrite here. Please tell me honestly what you think. If you hate it, how would you improve it? If you like it, why? Also let me know if you see any stupid mistakes. I'm known for my lack of punctuation and spelling skills. Okay, here it is...just what I rewrote. Hope it isn't too long.
Off and Running
Maybe it was the smell of decaying seaweed and salt water mixed with coconut oil. Perhaps it was due to the hot Californian sun melting her brains. Quite possibly it was the yellow jacket that decided to take a bath in her newly opened can of Diet Vanilla Coke. She wasn’t sure. Whatever the reason, Mimi suddenly found herself behind three boy band wannabes who were sitting in the sand sweet talking her three swimsuit teen-model cloned sisters.
She didn’t remember filling the pail full of icy Pacific Ocean water and she further amazed herself as she began pouring said water over the cutest and tannest of the boys. The only option open to her was giddy laughter followed closely by the fight or flight principal. Since she knew she couldn’t outrun them all and there was no way she could fight off all six, she decided to go for the Bratty Younger Sister Ploy Number One. Lie. Lie like your life depends on it, which it certainly did.
Mimi actually smirked as she said, "You don’t want to talk with these girls! They have boyfriends who are much stronger, cuter and probably even smarter than you. Aaaannnd they are walking this way right now to beat you up!"
The boys did that silent, "Let’s get outta here!" look and they ran off as quick as they could whip their streaky-bleached-blonde heads into motion.
It was then that everything seemed to take on a high speed motion, like watching those old black and white movies of people who, hoping to fly in strange contraptions, only come crashing down with the wings folding in and the craft falling apart from underneath.
The youngest of Mimi’s three older sisters, Chelsea, blew up. She gathered a handful of the newly wetted sand beside her and threw it into Mimi’s adrenaline induced freakishly delighted face.
Of course the sand hit her square in her open mouth. Chelsea had way too perfect aim. Mimi stood in shock with her mouth wide open and full of sand. No longer laughing, she fought back stupid tears as she watched Chelsea wipe her hands with the beach towel she sat on, sending the remaining granules of sand back to the ground.
Sneering at Mimi, she taunted, "Oh ‘WAA WAA’, you stupid cry baby! Go tell mommy! Maybe she’ll feel sorry for her ugly, fat baby. Why don’t you grow up? You’d think you were five instead of almost a teenager! We don’t want you near us!" Seeing that Mimi still stood dumbfounded she continued, "Can’t you understand English? You are so dumb! Look at her mouth open—oh wait, here she goes…come on, baby, cry!"
Mimi came to life, spitting out most of the sand as a seagull screeched overhead. A lone sand particle grated between her teeth. Fighting back tears, she coughed and spat again.
Her other two sisters were no help. They were obviously angry also and intentionally avoided Mimi’s pleading eyes. Angie applied a new layer of oil to her legs and Jes pretended to be absorbed with a piece of sand under her fingernail. Their silence screamed their agreement with Chelsea.
Usually, blubbering to Mom was exactly what Mimi would have done. After all, that was Bratty Younger Sister Ploy Number Two but she loathed the fact that Chelsea knew this. You don’t need them! A voice hissed in her ear. Escape! Run away! it urgently beckoned. Bratty Younger Sister Ploy Number Three lovingly known as the ‘Beat Cheeks Stratagem’ now set in. Kicking as much sand on Chelsea as she could, Mimi turned and dashed off down the beach.
With scorching sand burning her feet and bitterness eating at her heart, Mimi pumped her legs as fast as they would go. Her pounding feet beat out a tempo. Run-a-way. Run-a-way. Run-a-way. Anger and malice pulsed through her veins, quickening her step
"I hate you! I hate all of you!" she screamed, not caring who heard or stared at her as she ran past. Tears flooded her eyes and streaked down her face while she fled down the beach, farther and farther away from her family.
Mimi despised being the baby, the youngest of four girls…the bratty sister. She felt that she never quite measured up.