New York Write to Pitch "First Pages" - 2022, 2023, 2024
A forum for New York pitch event alums to post samples of their scenes and prose narrative for detailed critique according to Algonkian Author Connect guidelines. Emphasis on choice of set, narrative cinema, quality of dialogue, metaphor, static and dynamic imagery, interior monologue, general clarity, tone, suspense devices, and routine line editing issues as well.
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Delusions of Grandeur Chapter 1 It all seems too good to be true, this magical island called Palm Beach, more modern-day Atlantis or Xanadu than actual city, more dream than reality. It brings to mind a French impressionist painting reminiscent of Renoir or Monet, more an enchanting vision of color and blurred lines than some dry depiction of life as it is, an imagined work of art limited to all things beautiful, with any hint of ugliness glossed over in undulating strokes of cadmium yellow and cobalt blue. Merely crossing any of the short bridges spanning from the mainland to the barrier island you might just as well be crossing the entirety of the Atl…
Last reply by Tiffany, -
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Call it freeze. Call it rime. Call it glacier. Call it frost. Call it icebomb. Call it death. That’s all it is. It’s the drug of the 21st century. It’s the drug I can’t escape. One thing everyone knows about icebombers. Never trust a word they say. # I’m in a government-funded oven called Hope’s Place. Been here for three weeks. When I got in, the intake coordinator told me, “Axel, the average stay is a year and a half, but given your history, you’re looking at more like three.” “I don’t give a shit,” I’d said. “I just want off.” I did then. I’m not so sure now. It’s like two parallel trains of thought in my fucked up head. In one, all …
Last reply by Adam Fout, -
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Last reply by Luis Santiago, -
Chapter 1 Names “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” — Kahlil Gibra Sitting in the back of my classroom, I can see over my 3rd grade classmates' heads. I sit in the back, not because I don’t want to be called on, which is true, but because I’m the tallest. I’m thankful they put me there. It’s easier to hide. Our desks are in perfect rows, like the edges of red, orange, and yellow construction paper lying on tops of green bookcases. On a back table Elmer’s glue bottles with labels facing forward stand in line resembling soldiers in uniform. Shiny scissors wait in their carr…
Last reply by Peter Kofitsas, -
Chapter 1 “Prasad!” “One minute, mom!” Prasad Patel flopped over on his bedroom floor with a warm grin. This golden Sunday had rolled out a trim carpet of shimmering light to deliver him to his moment in the sun. Tomorrow, he’d cross the threshold of adolescence and graduate to the big One-Oh. Double digits. Ten. Freaking. Years. Old! At long last, he’d cast off the baby bib of ‘Little Boy’ and claim his shiny, hard earned badge of ‘Preteen’. “Prasad!” “Gib be one mirrute!” Tip-toeing over the bathroom sink, he generously brushed his teeth, choosing to floss for once. The youngest in his family, albeit with the largest mouth, h…
Last reply by Aatman Pandya, -
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Logline: One young princess stood at the crossroads of the founding of three nations: France, England, and Belgium. Her story, and the story of the knight she loved, has never been told – until now. The true story of a rebellious princess and a brave knight who defy the king and overcome treachery, murder, and Vikings, to build a life--and a new country--together. Opening Scene - This scene introduces the male protagonist, Baldwin, and sets him on his journey to serve the king - the father of the protagonist princess, Judith. This first scene also provides historical background necessary to understand the political climate in the ninth-century Carolingian Kin…
Last reply by Deborah Morris, -
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Last reply by Julien Appignani, -
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Genre: Upmarket Fiction Author: Kathleen J. Waites
Last reply by Kathleen, -
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I re-wrote the beginning. Here it is. Comments and critique welcome. CHAPTER ONE 30 April 1730 - At Sea Anne McCormack ran her cutlass through the chest of the British patrol ship’s captain. He groaned as he slid to the ground, blood pouring from the wound to his heart. After wiping off the blade on her pantaloons, Anne turned to her crew. “We got him,” she screamed. “Start the rest of the fires and back to the ship.” The crew took out the rest of the sailors left standing, lit the greasy fires they’d set, and made their way back onto the Betsy D. Anne went to the helmsman. “Sylvanus, take ‘er back.” The helmsman started to turn the ship away…
Last reply by CarolBusby, -
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Hook: When a dad quits his job to find meaning in his work, he unwittingly destabilizes his marriage just as the COVID pandemic worsens. Ironically, with his wife ill and daughter hungry, Alex discovers a purpose, but when the crisis eases Lisa wants to return to the past, leaving Alex to make a difficult decisions. Sugarbug is an 82,000 word general or upmarket novel whose level of violence, tone and overall approach to a pandemic is similar to Station Eleven by Emily St. John-Mandel. And while I am a mere shadow compared to Wallace Stegner, Sugarbug invites readers to discover whether or not a marriage will reach "The Angle of Repose." Sugarbug Befo…
Last reply by erikwecks, -
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Anaïs Cigogne Giroux was born in Paris, France in 1927 and tumbled into this world haphazardly, like an airy, windborne dandelion. No one could explain such children, the lineage she inherited, or her quiet determination that secured her gifts early on, unusual abilities that she would need, even as a child. She was the daughter of Brigette Czajka and called Anastazja Czajka. Her stepfather, Boyrs Czajka loved the name Anastazja, and although he had not officially adopted Ani, she was known as Anastazja Czajka. They lived in Krakow, Poland and when she was eighteen years old, she took her final vows as a Benedictine nun, from then on known as Sister Ani. That she wa…
Last reply by Marie White Small, -
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The dispatch rider saluted the staff sergeant, threw the satchel over his shoulder, and bolted out of the reception to a row of BSA M20 motorcycles. He straddled the next workhorse in line, pulled his goggles down from his helmet, and gave it a sturdy jump-start. Off he sped, down a narrow road stretching north across the countryside. He knew every second mattered. The whistle blew its high-pitched farewell and the train jerked forward as it pulled away from Euston Station. Tommy’s heart rate accelerated in synchrony with the revving up of the engine. What am I in for? He pushed his spectacles further up his pointy nose, not to bring the scenery into clearer view …
Last reply by jgkulyk, -
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Opening scenes – introduces protagonist, world/setting, voice, and inciting incident. 1 - Time Will Not Tell The last thing Alila Illi desired was ending up in an asylum to rot alone with no family to save her. Stepping out of the elevator, she wished for the thousandth time that she could not feel people’s pain. It was getting harder to keep her mouth shut, swallow the hurt, and not blurt out to strangers unsolicited advice about their poor health. Especially when they didn’t even look sick. Alila stood in the lobby of her suburban apartment building and checked her watch, 8:30 a.m. Perfect. Her local coffee shop would be almost free of people. …
Last reply by Safiya M., -
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CHAPTER I The tap, tap, tap, of the red Louboutin stilettos echoed like jacketed hollow point rounds being fired from a suppressed SIG Sauer P365, as she walked confidently across the polished, dove grey, Italian marble floors of her opulent office space to stare out the 25th floor window. It was a sound the man just entering the room, one that owned such a weapon, was well familiar with. The heels were an exact color match to the well fitted, powerful, yet feminine, fitted tank dress Eve wore flattering her flawless figure. Her black silken hair was swept up in a beautiful chignon held by a diamond tipped pin. The perfectly French manicured index finger of …
Last reply by Kimberly Luse, -
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Opening scenes – Introduces one of the co-protagonists, world/setting, voice. Experiments with new plot elements developed during the conference. The frigid wind choked Astra. Her body burned with intense cold. Despite growing up in the Giant's Fingers, the frozen islands that stretched out like fingers from the Great Southern Glacier at the edge of the world, Astra had never been as cold as she was on the three months journey from her fishing village in Myrt to the harsh Skyrlish tunda. Luckily, she'd had Taryl to keep her warm. The chief's daughter turned to her fire haired companion, who hid behind an obelisk of smooth obsidian-colored stone. He was using th…
Last reply by Oliviarfrias, -
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Chapter 1 Anti-Rightist Movement Five minutes, that’s all it was. Actually, it was less than that. There was no violence, no natural disaster, no screaming throngs. All that happened was some words were spoken. Words that abruptly changed the trajectory of my life and which have haunted me for the last half century. It happened one day in 1957 after a long trip father took with Russian experts. It happened in a meeting in which the leaders of Beijing Geology College asked for advice. It happened on that podium father used to give lectures that so captivated his students. It was rooted in father’s scholarly mind that was always ques…
Last reply by Yun B, -
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The Old Oak Tree Spring 1754 GLENEALY, IRELAND—The boy paid no mind to the grit and stones that cut into the soft flesh of his bare feet. He was all consumed by the rumors, if true, he was going to kill that son-of-a-bitch Emmet Rafferty. The shallow brook defined the trail. Littered with weather-smooth stones, it meandered through the thick forest like a glistening ribbon. Oisin Lambert hung to the shadows of its edge. The mud of the bank was black and soft, his bare heels sunk like spoons into pudding. Talk was his older sister, Muirne, be occupying the rake Rafferty. The boy of just twelve years pushed strands of shoulder-length blond hair behind h…
Last reply by David1755, -
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Last reply by discobiscuit3, -
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I had a cool name which was why I hated to change it. Bobby Jordan. With a name like that, maybe I should have been a baseball player, but I ended up a portfolio manager at one of the big New York hedge funds. Either way, there I was on the roof of a boutique hotel in mid-town Manhattan, my ex-wife’s boyfriend pointing a gun at me demanding I hand over a My Catchy Creature – those stuffed animals from the mid-nineties that everyone went crazy over? One of those. It was Shani the Snail. The Shani the Snail My Catchy Creature was not supposed to exist. Arlo Rothstein’s stuffed animal empire - ingeniously named ARLO – repeatedly denied the existence of Shani t…
Last reply by Scott Brooks, -
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My heart feels like it’s been thrown onto the ground only to be beaten and bruised. This has to be a dream. The rain batters my hair and clothes, leaving me a mess, but I don’t take notice. Falling in love had just cost me a heartbreak I had never imagined, one tangled with grief. How could I continue to live my life without him? Someone must wake me up from this nightmare. As the rain runs down my face, I close my eyes, but all that travels across the black canvas are pictures of him: snapshots of the happy times and images of times he annoyed me. I wish he was here to annoy me again. I see wasted moments of precious time over lover’s quarrels that made no sen…
Last reply by Blair Hayse, -
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After a week of festivities, the people of Kald should have been sleeping off the twice-cooked pork, the sticky yam dumplings, and the sweet salt wines of Mawa, but instead, they were screaming—fleeing their squat white houses in the wee hours of morning as the spoken fire overtook them. The fire danced across the wide streets and the sweltering heat caused the white paint on the houses to bubble and blister. Sickly green flames, at first, but as they burned hotter the green swirled to bright yellows and searing oranges as it washed over the townhomes, stacked atop of each other like building blocks. When the town was founded nearly a century ago, the design was celebrate…
Last reply by AD.Greenwyn, -
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An Interview With Anje Goodwin Michael Neff, director of the New York Pitch Conference, talks to aspiring author, Anje Goodwin, about her leaps in narrative evolution and prose style after working with the NAPE Drills (pronounced "nap"). - A Sample of Anje's Latest Work Q: Angie, you are one of the AWC alums; we reconnected in January about some systemic issues found in a sample of your prose submitted to the forum. We discussed that a prose drill exercise could help with the problems you were facing; can you tell us a little about your expectations? And what difficulties you might have faced during the exercise. A: I’ll start by saying t…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
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Introduces narrator and main protagonist/antagonist. Introduces one of several settings. Introduces thematic elements. Alludes to forthcoming plot points and reveals "Act Zero" setup. Includes dialogue. Chapter I: Clotho. It’ll be mid-morning in my clapboard piece-of-crap house in God’s own Blue Ridge mountains and I’ll have a hangover that could kill a cat, and not even just a regular cat but a bobcat maybe or whatever an ocelot is. It may occur to me (as so frequently it does) that I am for all intents and purposes out of food, which dilemma has been caused not by insufficient funds but by a general lack of gumption to get off my gangly bum and go to the grocery s…
Last reply by Molly Morse, -
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Sample of Prose Narrative OPENING SCENE: Introduces protagonist, his personality, and attitude, the setting, and minor characters in his life. The black and white wing-tipped feet of Richie Dodge scuff Arcadia, California sidewalks. He trudges from one curb cut to the next, though careful not to scuff anything above the soles. Faces peer out at him from a shop window, not because of his hipster persona, when hipsters are sort of called hepsters some thirty years after beatniks had their run, but because their images hang captive from posters among three walls. Richie answers their stares with a running critique. Ace of Base—they’ll never be the next ABBA—and The…
Last reply by Phil Dandrea, -
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Second Scene – Introduces one of the two protagonists, sets the story in Colombia, and reveals the catalyst for the story – a plane crashed. NIGHT RUNNER Chapter 2 A Long Day The ringing was a warning. The next ring jolted through Margaret’s nightmare and she opened her eyes to see a dark bedroom. She was alone in her condo in Georgetown. She pulled the covers over her head, but the sound of the phone ringing penetrated the fabric, hornets stinging her brain. Reaching an arm out from underneath the bedding, Margaret glanced at the alarm clock glowing a red “AM 3:47.” She tilted her caller ID box to see the name Harrison Burr. He is fina…
Last reply by Dennis Blackmon,
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