Author's Name: Amanda Kelley-Goodhew
Genre: Sci-Fi and Fantasy
Stage of completion: (2) work in progress, (1) rough draft, (1) Mostly polished
Preferred critique style: All the faults with a spoonful of sugar
Cat or dog person? Both. Currently own a dog but would have a cat if my lifestyle allowed it.
Tea or coffee? Also both. Limit myself to 2 cups of either a day.
I have been writing my whole life, but seriously for only the past 5 years or so. Finally feel like I know enough about how to write to actually put my work out there. I have one critique partner so far, but she’s my mom. I really think I need someone who isn’t personally invested in me, at least to start, to look at my work. I’m hoping to find a few people who I can exchange work with as I would love to do some “giving back” as well.
“Are you listening to me?”
Joana starts in surprise. The car is stopped in front of a single-story tan brick building. We’re here, she crooned to herself.
“Of course I was listening,” she replied. She grabbed her back pack from the floor between her feet. “Be good, make friends, stay out of trouble.” Blah, blah, blah. Her mother had been giving her the same lecture for a week now.
Her mother snorted. “Don’t forget to go to the office first.”
Joanna got out of the car and stood staring around at her new school. It wasn’t half the size of her last one. She’d have to work to get lost here.
“You’re taking the bus home tonight.”
Joanna slammed the car door behind her.
“Have a good day,” her mother called through the open car window.
“Yeah, right,” Joanna mumbled.
Make friends? With these nerds. Joanna stared around her as she headed towards the school entrance. Was her mother insane? Girls sat on benches in dresses and skirts. Boys lounged around them in khakis and button-downs. It was like being in the twilight zone. Had they gone back in time to the 50’s? Or was the school, and probably the whole town, stuck there? Joanne wondered which stood out more – her pink hair or the hand-painted heavy metal icons on her jean jacket. She was certainly getting enough stares.
Sure enough, just inside the doors of the school Joanna saw the sign for the office. Time to check in. She had barely stepped into the quiet office when someone called her name.
“Joanna King?” A tall, bone-thin woman with long mousy brown hair cocked an eyebrow at her from behind the counter.