Community · Craft

WBP’s Critique Partner Match Up!

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UPDATE: See ALL of our CP Match Ups HERE!

Hi all! We asked on Twitter if people would be interested in a CP match up post for y’all to find critique partners and it was a resounding yes. So, here you go!

As you might know we all met up through various CP match-up posts like the one hosted by the amazing Susan Dennard. So we are very much pro critique partner match ups on blogs. We hope that this gives you all a forum to talk about your work and perhaps find that perfect creative match so you can ride off into the writing sunset together!

Before we get into the nitty gritty, we wanted to refer you back to a few of our old resources about being a critique partner:

Meg’s post on Giving Constructive Feedback

Kat’s video on 5 tips for being a good CP

And our first ever post that’s just full of CP Love and advice

Okay, onto the match up!

STEP ONE: Write a comment on this post.

In the comment please include:



GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc)

PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines)

SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)



STEP TWO: If someone’s manuscript sounds like something you’d like to read, send them a quick message about swapping pages.

Once you both agree that you’d like to swap, we suggest swapping either first 3 chapters or first 50 pages (whichever you agree is better). This is the “trial period” where you see if you actually do like each other’s writing AND if you like each other’s critique style. If you want to be on top of it, we suggest telling the other person what kind of notes you like to receive too. But if this is one of your first times critiquing, that’s fine too! This is all about finding someone to learn and grow with!

STEP THREE: Send critique notes and decide what kind of critique relationship you’d like to have!

So, there are many ways to critique. You could do a full manuscript swap. You can do it chunks at a time. It’s really up to you and your new critique partner, so after you get that initial 50 pages or so back, make a plan for what fits you both best!

If, for some reason you don’t like the other person’s notes or you just don’t think things will work out (for whatever reason), then you should be open about it and part ways with no hard feelings. Sometimes, people’s creative visions just don’t sync up.

Good luck and happy critiquing!!

NOTE: While we love hearing about other people’s stories, the WBP ladies are not looking to add any more CPs to our (abnormally large already) critique group. But we love the idea of having a post that can help other people find each other because other CP match up posts are how many of us met!

62 thoughts on “WBP’s Critique Partner Match Up!

  1. NAME: Hi! I’m Mary.

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB): I write YA, but I may try MG or PB one day.

    GENRE(S): My writing is contemporary with an occasional spec/paranormal twist.

    PROJECT PITCH: When an accident leaves Jordan a quadriplegic and kills his best friend, Jordan must reconcile reality with a world where Taylor haunts him. Doubting his sanity, Jordan will have to choose between living with his hallucinations or letting go of the boy he loves. IF I STAY meets HISTORY IS ALL YOU LEFT ME.

    Taylor’s empty parking place stands out among the vacant rows in the Westview High lot. It might as well have a neon sign glaring over it from the way my head pounds as I stare at the huge purple and gold chalk cross and flowers left where his Mustang is supposed to be. We should be sitting there together, waiting for the rest of our crew to arrive, but instead, my little brother parks our car three rows down.

    I clench my eyes shut to avoid looking at the makeshift memorial, and the hair on the back of my neck prickles as if someone traced a finger along my hairline. When I open my eyes, a shadow drifts across the parking lot, shading Taylor’s spot before vanishing entirely.

    “He’s gone,” I mutter, pressing my head back against the vinyl headrest and hoping to disappear.

    Maybe dropping out on the first day of senior year wouldn’t be such a bad move. With stiff, uncooperative hands, I take off my glasses and press my fists against my pounding temples.

    “Another migraine?” Jesse asks, idling the engine. He cranks up the A/C and aims the vent in my direction.

    Last December, I walked out of school a six-foot-three honors student, two-sport athlete, and student council member. Now, my best friend is dead, I’ve lost my spot on the student council, my athletic career is over, and I barely squeezed into calculus and advanced programming as last minute adds.

    To top it off, I’m not even walking back in.

    I let the air hit my face and try to relax. The migraines always get worse when I’m anxious. Online, the posts and gossip about me are bad enough, but I can turn off the computer when I can’t deal anymore. I can’t hit “close” on real life.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’m finishing up the MS blurbed above within the next 2-3 weeks to send to my agent for submission, but I’m looking for a CP who is honest but not TOO blunt. A “heart” or a “!!!” goes a long way in CP comments. I have a handful of lovely CPs who I adore, but fresh eyes always help.

    I write contemporary YA, but I have a tendency to lean toward the spec side. I have a lot of LGBT+ characters and difficult themes. Many of my characters deal with mental illness and/or physical disability, and others deal with abuse, suicide, or death of friends.

    I’m not a fast reader, but I’m thorough and when I love your story, I’m completely engrossed.

    CONTACT INFO: mary.dunbar.writer (at) gmail (dot) com. Twitter: @MaryCDunbar


  2. NAME: Ellie


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Fantasy, A once time space opera, and a one time Contemp lol

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Sinbad meets twelfth night.
    Disguised as a boy, Denny is a sharp shooter and holder of the key to the underworld, She’ll do whatever it takes to get her sister back–even signing a blood oath to a pirate.
    Blaze is a pirate with a dark past who will do anything to obtain the key to his redemption–even heist the most dangerous raiders on the seas and reveal his secrets.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):
    The air was thick with fish, the undeniable scent of rum, unwashed bodies and fancy perfume. It all swirled together with the salty brine of the sea breeze, churning in a melody of scents that made up The World Port.

    I inhaled deeply and held it in. The World Port was a comfort to all sea fairing lads and lasses, along with the usual cut throat and thief.

    Sanjin coughed and gagged next to me. “I hate the smell of the docks. Rotten fish and—what even is that?” He pulled up his shirt collar and covered his nose with it. His brown curls clung to his forehead, damp from the misty sea breeze.

    “That, Sanjin, is the smell of freedom… and dirty feet.” I side stepped a pair of bare, muddy feet sticking out of a dark alley as we made our way to the Sea Dog.

    The breeze turned cooler as dusk turned to night. Only a few lanterns hung along the walkway to guide customers to the inn, making a single lit walkway safe from the black-hearts.
    “You sure this’ll work?” Sanjin slid up next to me, his eyes flicking to the shadows between the buildings we passed. “What if no one’ll take us?”

    “They will.” I shoved my hands deep in my pockets and put more confidence in my voice and steps than I felt.

    I don’t mind straight and to the point comments, though I’d love a reassuring comment here and there.
    Any big plot holes or inconsistencies and things that don’t make sense.
    I’m terrible at line edits and grammar, so someone who won’t bludgeon me for it? Haha
    I’m pretty good with dialogue, fighting scenes, and plot inconsistencies.
    I’m still working on the above MS, but I have a completed fantasy on sub, and a random finished contemp. So someone who could encourage completing this MS, and is maybe around the same stage?

    CONTACT INFO: Elliemoreton(at)gmail(dot)com
    Twitter: @Byelliem


  3. NAME: Hi! I’m Alex 🙂


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN: I dabble in everything, but almost everything I do has a speculative twist to it. I’ve written contemporary fantasy (my favorite, and the one I write the most), normal fantasy, and I also have an idea for a YA SF swirling around in my brain right now. I have also started writing YA thrillers/mysteries recently without any fantasy elements.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): My current wip is a multi-POV story about a small town where one witch tries to cast a death curse on a rival witch, but accidentally ends up killing a human boy….and then that human boy comes back to life. Someone is also murdering witches from the 2 covens in town and my 3 MCs get caught in the mystery and race to find the killer before it’s too late.

    SHORT BLURB (this is an excerpt from my first chapter and it is a rough draft):

    She took a deep breath before she cracked the grimoire open, that old, musty smell both familiar and terrifying. A tremor traveled through the air when the book opened, and Genevieve repressed a shiver as she flipped through the pages, careful not to crack or tear them.

    This was the most foolish thing she had ever done. All witches knew to never mess with another witch’s grimoire, but Genevieve didn’t have the necessary spell needed to get revenge on Veronica. There was only one person in their coven who had all the spells in their grimoire.

    The high priestess.

    Am I really going to do this?

    Genevieve hesitated. She had pushed the rules sometimes, but she could, because she was the strongest, and everyone in her coven knew she would be in charge one day. Unlike Veronica Reyes, who was groomed for power because of her family legacy, Genevieve would be the next High Priestess because she was the most powerful witch their coven had ever seen.

    But this was more than a little backtalk or antagonizing the other coven’s members. She had stolen from her High Priestess and planned to cast a forbidden spell, one that every witch knew never to attempt.

    Genevieve found the page in the grimoire, let her fingers wander over the browned parchment and ink stained pages. It was written in scrawling but legible handwriting, the words jarring even to her.

    Death Curse.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’m currently drafting this story and am shooting to have a rough draft done by early-mid February so I wouldn’t be able to send anything until after then, but I’d be willing to critique other things in the meantime (and I’d love to have some help with outlining as I write this first draft). I’m also currently querying a different project.

    I’m looking for someone who is great at big picture notes and has an especially good eye for worldbuilding, pacing and character relationships. I like to swap full drafts rather than send chapter by chapter, but I’d love to have someone who is willing to look over my outlines while I’m writing a rough draft to make sure I’m not setting myself up for a huge plot hole. I’d also love to find someone who is willing to be my CP for a long time, rather than just for this one book.

    As for my own strengths, I’m great at looking over a manuscript for plot structure and characterization, and I’m good at making sure POVs are all unique and distinct. I am a big advocate for diverse stories, and I often write #ownvoices stories that are queer and/or have characters with mental illnesses. I suffer from seasonal depression, so sometimes I might be able to read quickly and other times I might take a bit longer. I’m also on a gap year right now, but come August I’ll be in college and I’m sure my availability will change around then, too.

    CONTACT INFO: you can email me at alexhiggins0407(a), or you can DM me on twitter at @alexs_bookshelf 🙂


  4. NAME: Eshana

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB): I write YA and adult

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Fantasy, romance, horror (on occasion)

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines) Tristan steals shadows to make into familiars but when he steals the shadow of a devastatingly attractive demon named Gregor, he accidentally steals his magic in the process. Unfortunately demon Earl Alfred wants Gregor’s magic as well. Gregor and Tristan must jump through the different realms (dimensions) and fight demons and monsters to get Gregor’s shadow back. (YA, F, lgbtq+)

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):
    (This is an excerpt from the first chapter)
    I started to feel nervous, the way I feel nervous when I see a police person on the street. I-haven’t-done-anything-wrong-but-what-if-he-catches-me-for-it feeling- it was completely irrational I had not done anything wrong and I don’t think I followed him enough to be considered a proper stalker- maybe. Eventually he walked closer to where I was standing and I immediately looked down. He touched a tie which was on display, stroked it and let it slip through his fingers like silken hair. He must be a demon. Demons I had met before had this sort of feeling, the strange dark, seductive feeling. I felt my face become hot. I looked at my reflection and I was blushing so much my ears were red. Why was he hovering here? Next to the ties, next to me? Did he know what I was planning? How could he? I glanced at him from my peripheral vision. He was so good looking it was hard to look at him directly. He was probably what Satan looked liked in paradise lost.
    “Master Gregor,” sang the shop keeper emerging from some back room. He was holding an open white box with blue tissue paper escaping from it. Beelzebub turned and walked to him. I exhaled the breathe I didn’t realise I was holding. I walked out of the store, it was too stressful to stay in there. I walked up and down the alley for a few minutes. His shadow was not worth it anyway, he probably thinks I am suspicious.

    I’m really new to this so it would be nice to have a CP to learn from and grow with. I’ve finished the MS but it’s still pretty rough. I want a CP would can help me improve my craft, characters, plot (basically everything). I would like someone brutally honest, I want them to point out flaws in my structure, my style, my descriptions, my pov, my character, my world building (line edits are welcome) -My writing needs a lot of improvement and I want to get better. I have done some beta-reading so I can tailor my feedback to your requirements. I tend to be brutally honest but I try not to be too harsh and aim to be as constructive as possible. I’ll point out something that I found could be improved and suggest a bunch of ways to help improve it.



  5. NAME: Cit Callahan

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN: Young Adult & New Adult (minus the erotica)

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Fantasy, with the occasional scifi & contemporary

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Welcome to the Order of the Knights of Emiliani, an organization dedicated to the eradication of demons and other supernatural monsters. Autumn, Des, Kay, and Aren have been trained as Knights to protect people from the things that go bump in the night. But with a string of seemingly disconnected murders, a new enemy organization on the rise, and new opportunity on the horizon, they’ll each have to choose between loyalty to the life that they’ve known and challenging an ancient organization who may not have their best interests at heart.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    Dusk was closing in quickly, and Autumn loved the sight of it. It exhilarated her, filling her muscles with a newfound energy. Her nose twitched at the smell in the air, a burnt rubber stench from the hive of demons, and a light scent of cinnamon and mint.
    Autumn froze, her lips twisting into a sly smile. “I do like to breathe my own air, you know.”
    She felt a hand on her back, nimble fingers tracing a slow line down her spine. She felt his breath on her cheek before he spoke. “That sounds like a personal problem.”
    Autumn turned, her mouth finding Kay’s of its own accord. His mouth tasted like the cinnamon gum he had become accustomed to chewing over the past few weeks, and his hand, as he traced it down her hip, felt more familiar to her than the rush of dusk that gave her life. Her heart raced, this time from the kiss instead of the pre-battle adrenaline. She pulled back, pushing Kay off of her slightly as she moved. There was nothing she wanted more than him, but Autumn Rousseau knew the rules.
    “We have work to do,” Autumn whispered.
    Kay smiled. “I know how much you love to give orders.”
    Autumn turned away from him, redirecting her attention to the demon hive. The sun was almost fully set now, the sky a dark blue with only a slight sliver of pink at the horizon. The horde would rise soon, and when it did, she didn’t need the smell of Kay distracting her from her mission. It wasn’t that the hive was anything she couldn’t handle, and she had been slightly offended when Shawna suggested that she have Kay accompany her, but she did understand that one distracted move was all it took for a Knight to lose her life, and that was exactly why she was never supposed to fall in love with Kay.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’m currently working on several different projects, all at different stages, so I’d really appreciate a CP who understands the struggles of dividing your time across countless projects. I don’t mind if we have different writing/plotting styles, but I’d like someone who understands that at the end of the day, their critiques should help my books because better versions of my books and not anyone else’s read. I’m also a big diversity advocate, so I’d like a CP who understands and appreciates that. Finally, I want someone who won’t hold back and can give detailed, constructive feedback. If you hate it, please tell me!



  6. NAME: Katie (hi!)

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB): YA with some crossover appeal to Adult!

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): SF and Fantasy!

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Mina, a tomb-raiding thief, searches for an object that grants wishes before her curses come true.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    The best way to steal was from the dead.
    Mina knew all too well that when it came to thievery, committing the crime was one thing and not getting caught was entirely another. Instead, she chose to steal from those long since departed, if only for a single reason.
    The dead never fought back.
    Her current target laid within the large mountain range that cut across this part of the land like a jagged scar. Just a few days travel from the nearest town, she had been told that there was a tomb hidden within its stony depths; a tomb that was rumored to the contain the burial site of an ancient King. Most importantly she was promised that it would be wholly untouched, which was good for business.
    Mina stole to survive, having figured out that she could use her habit of taking things that didn’t belong to her and put it to good use.
    But it was more than just thieving for a living—Mina was looking for something, an object so rare and legendary, it had nearly been forgotten to time itself. An object that was rumored to grant its finder three wishes, exactly as many as Mina needed if she was to ever break the curses she had been given as a child. According to some tales, an unnamed King of old had taken the object with him to his grave.
    This grave, hopefully.


    I am looking for constructive criticism, with some fluff sprinkled in. I want to know what about my story/pacing/characters/description works so that I know what to continue doing, but I also want to know what doesn’t work so I can improve it.

    CONTACT INFO: My email is

    Liked by 1 person

    1. NOTE: I would really appreciate a CP who is interested in line editing my work! That is definitely my critique style, and it would be nice to get similar feedback on my book.


  7. NAME: Aimee (“Emilie Ma” is an acronym)

    AGE CATEGORY(IES): MG, though I dabble a bit

    GENRE(S): speculative

    PROJECT PITCH: My main WIP is about superheroes, villains, and secret identities in the age of the Internet. There’s a hero named Renaissance Man who fights crime with equipment inspired by inventions in Leonardo Da Vinci’s notebooks, a 14-year-old hero-slash-viral celebrity who vlogs about her adventures on her YouTube channel, a teen girl conspiracy theorist whose ideas might not be as demented as they sound, and one random anonymous Internet user who just may be the biggest threat to superheroes yet, as well as a bunch of other colorful characters who may not be as heroic they seem. Think Young Justice with a postmodern, digital twist.

    My brother has a secret. By day, he’s Arnold Koenig, the smartest kid at Manhattan Prep, where even the kids who sit under the bleachers and play songs on guitar about sniffing glue take SAT classes. By night, he’s the superhero Renaissance Man.

    He first debuted his costumed persona a year ago. Arnold came home late a lot the previous year too, not because of fun things like parties or friendship, but activities like staying late in the library reading up on something he found really interesting, like Aristotlean physics or the life story of Lise Meitner, the scientist who discovered nuclear fission.

    At first I didn’t think it was a big deal, but then I noticed he’d come back looking really tired, like he’d spent the whole day exercising. That was the first weird sign. But I knew some bench presses weren’t the reason he’d always come home after dark, his pale cheeks flushed and his skinny limbs sore enough to warrant a bubble bath—something Arnold likes quite a lot but is too proud to do all that often, which says a lot because my brother’s sense of self-awareness is almost nonexistent. I’ve seen Arnold tell a girl he likes that he hates dogs. At first I figured that must be what this whole thing was about (girls, I mean.)

    When I saw the first headline about this new teen genius hero, who had no powers but made his own equipment (like Diamond Man) based on my brother’s favorite thing to have ever existed (Da Vinci’s notebooks), I had a different funny idea.

    I’m preparing to do a pretty big overhaul of the plot, and as I’ve been revising this manuscript for over a year, I could really use a fresh pair on eyes that can point out plot holes/character inconsistencies as I make big changes. I’d also just love to reach out to other writers.

    I’m a current editorial intern at Entangled Publishing and have previously interned for a literary agent at McIntosh & Otis, so I have experience with critiquing MG and YA manuscripts in particular.

    Email: Twitter: @EmilieMa2


  8. HI I’m Christina

    Y currently have a 45k YA WIP

    Its a SF novel with fairies and witches set in Danville VT.

    Marley is an orphan who wants to keep her head down until her eighteenth birthday but is thrust into a world of magic. Finally finding people who care about her, she must discover the strength to survive love, loss, and betrayal all while learning her family secret: she is a caster with fairy magic.

    The old house stood tall and empty. The newly unlocked door squeaked as Marley shifter her weight against it. Her surprise at the lack of greeting was changed to curiosity as her eyes fell on the note taped to the door, “Second door on the right.” As if she needed the directions, there were only two doors and one was a bathroom. Marley flopped down on the bed in the middle of the large empty room. Now what? Her previous foster families, even the bad ones, always met her, even if they weren’t actually glad to have her.
    Marley peered out the dust streaked window. Her gaze focused on a girl with dark pigtails sitting stationary on an old swing that hung below a large maple at the edge of the lake just below her window.Marley’s breath quickened as she rushed down the stairs. Letting herself out she found a door in the kitchen that opened to the backyard.
    Running to the swing was more difficult than she’d anticipated. Although Marley did not exercise regularly, she still considered herself to be physically fit. Now out of breath, she became hopeful at the thought of having someone her age nearby as was glad to reach her before she ran off.
    “Beautiful isn’t it?” She said without turning to look at Marley. The girl kept her gaze focused on the silver plate that reflected the tree lined symmetry.
    “Yes, it is,” Marley said, catching her breath and taking a few steps closer. “I’m Marley.”
    “I know.”
    “What’s your name?”
    “You shouldn’t be here. Miranda worked so hard to keep you from here,” the girl said.
    Marley’s face fell as the girl turned to look at her. She did not smile. In fact, her bloodshot eyes looked as if they was about to cry. A cool breeze blew, swaying the swing slightly in its wake. “How do you know my mother. You can’t be more than seventeen?”
    “I have been seventeen for a long time now. I was seventeen when your father killed me.”
    Marley waited for a laugh or a smile. Some sign to show the girl was joking, but no such sign came. Her unwavering gaze and sullen expression remained; the frown lines looked permanently etched into her skin. “You’re joking, right?” Marley said.
    “Does it look as if I’m joking?
    “But I can see you, you’re right here in front of me,” Marley said in disbelief. The girl walked effortlessly as if she was gliding across the grass. Stepping into the light she vanished, right before her eyes. Marley’s breath caught in her throat.
    “You can see things others can’t, “she said reappearing behind her.
    “How did you do that?” Marley asked

    I have rewritten and rearranged a lot of my chapters. I was a culprit of show vs tell. I am looking to make sure my pacing flows and I haven’t lost details in when I rearranged. I still have 3 chapters to rewrite, but if we exchange 3-4 chapters at a time I should be done with those by the time you are ready for them.

    Let me know if you want to trade!
    Twiter: @mrs.beggs


  9. NAME: Sasha
    TARGET AGE CAT: Generally YA, but sometimes adult, too
    GENRES: YA Fantasy and Science Fiction (sometimes short stories)


    I’m a pantser. I have a terrible time of outlining. Because of this, I also struggle with finishing my novel-length projects, though I’ve had 8 short stories published. I’m in a season where I should be re-writing one of the novels I have very nearly finished, but instead I began a shiny new project. I have just begun it, so it is very short now, but perhaps that is okay. Perhaps, if matched, we could give each other deadlines and cheer each other along? Maybe we can even work on this outlining thing together.

    With that in mind, here’s my pitch…

    Agnes DeSoto is a member of the elite police force on Titan, Saturn’s 2nd largest moon and Earth’s first satellite colony. When a terrorist organization rains chaos down upon the Titan PD, kidnapping Nick (her best friend, partner, and secret love), she’s forced to intervene. Retrieving Nick safely from the headquarters of Titan’s biggest tech industry giant, a building the terrorists have overtaken, will require Agnes to go in undercover and trust no one, not the A.I. totem she carries meant to treat her PTSD, not the criminals holding Nick, not the remnants of the staff also being held prisoner, and certainly not the so-called “ghost” haunting the building.

    HYPERBOLE is Cowboy Bebop meets the X-Men meets Ghost in the Shell.


    I love connecting with critique partners who like to read. Hopefully this means they’ll enjoy reading my work, but more importantly, will also have experience with books they enjoy that are already on the market.

    I appreciate honesty, even when you think I might disagree. Let’s sharpen each other!

    I’m more interested in whether you are hooked/ invested in my story than whether you can tell me where this comma goes, though you may find yourself correcting my commas fairly often. Sorry.

    If you happen to be great at outlining and think you can mentor me on that subject, it would also make our pairing a bonus for me.

    Let’s see… What things am I good at that might benefit you? I’m terrific at naming things. I love mythology (from all cultures). I’ve seen A LOT of movies and read up market YA Fantasy as well as authors like Neil Gaiman. I’m just a eager to read short stories as I am a novel.

    I would not be a good partner to someone who writes erotica, simply bc the spiciest flavor I read is the work of Sarah J. Maas.

    TWITTER: @storyby_sasha


    1. Oh the moment you hit go and realize you failed to add an excerpt… Here is a bit of HYPERBOLE:

      I have loved Nick Nishimura since before I knew what love was. I have imagined sharing a home with him, picking up his lazily discarded socks and helping them into the hamper in our bedroom. I have imagined carpooling with him in the special left-hand lane on the freeway, singing vintage 90’s rock all the way to the office. I’ve imagined running my fingers through his raven-feather bangs.

      I have done none of these things. Never ridden with him to work. Never touched his hair. I’ve never even admitted my feelings out loud.

      Nishimura. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a high school notebook somewhere in my attic filled with line after line of his surname scrawled in delicate, curving lines, anticipating the day, the one day, the someday in the future, when his name would become mine.

      I believe it will happen. He and I. Us. It is bound to. Destined to. Like my twenty-ninth birthday. Like a promotion at work. Like finding my first gray hair. Something that, unless one of us expires before our time, is coming. I look forward to it. I count on it. It is an invisible talisman I keep holstered along with my gun. I hold my breath in anticipation. But the one thing I never do is say something about it.

      Imagine my shock and surprise when I look up from my computer to spy Nick over at his cubical cozied up to a skinny blonde. He is bent, trying to login to his workstation quickly without sitting down. She is standing so close they might as well be twins, conjoined at the hip. She is tracing the back of his neck with her fingertips. It’s a casual gesture. It’s something she has done before.


  10. (I still haven’t showed up after 3 hours, so I’m resubmitting. Hope it goes through!)





    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc)

    Honestly, I write all over the place, but most recently I’ve been writing a lot of realistic YA. There’s normally a romantic subplot no matter what.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines)

    Seventeen-year-old Alice delves into the criminal underworld and illegally gambles to pay off her father’s exorbitant debt to her girlfriend’s mafia family.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)

    Years of secrets were held onto by burning sand, lapping low tides, winding estate halls, and the lost memories of blackout drunks. None of those things could or would whisper truths or scream them from rooftops. And then there were two. Only two people in this universe knew the whole truth.

    Today, the last of my family’s belongings were moved out of the mansion. Mom and Dad sold what they could while still keeping their “rich” dignity intact. Sold the luxury furniture, kept the contemporary art pieces. Sold Mom’s jewelry, kept the fine china. Sold Summergrove, kept the Gatsby-esque parties, European vacations, and designer clothes. Mom’s Porsche and the boats we used to tether to the dock were gone, too.

    Summergrove was an estate built for us, the Slaters, passed down through generations. An estate I was supposed to inherit, if anyone asked ten years ago. But not anymore. We were old money—emphasis on were. In a single generation, Dad had depleted everything: his trust fund, my trust fund, and my college fund. The entire estate’s worth.

    “Ally, you’re turning red already.”

    My gaze snapped up from the ebb and flow of the shore’s low tide, and my head whipped around. Mom stood in the grass in her heels, not venturing into sand. The northeast was experiencing a heat wave, and the East End was one-hundred and five degrees today, mid-day. It warmed the sandy shore to an unbearable temperature, but the burning grounded me. The pain began to set in and distracted me from the building pressure in my eyes.

    Never thought of myself as particularly sentimental, but God, I wanted to cry.


    I have my manuscript completed. I just finished draft 2 and I would like to query agents sometime in the next few months. I’d like to find someone at this stage, but not necessary.

    As for critiquing, I have a degree in creative writing, so I’m used to writing workshops and giving feedback. I also have one long-time critique partner, but I’d like to connect with more. I’d like to find someone who is brutally honest about the aspects they felt didn’t work but also points out the things they like. I believe comments on the things I’ve enjoyed in a manuscript can go a long way, just as the criticisms can.


    DM me at @lgrebowsky on Twitter, or email me at (:


  11. NAME: Arnav Jadhao

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB): I write YA, but I dabble in MG.

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): I mostly write Fantasy, but I do like some Sci-fi.

    Arya has been living a thief since she left the palace. When a vicious criminal offers her a dangerous mission, that will place her on the throne again and get rid of tyrannical empire, Arya

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)
    Arya pulled out the obsidian taaj coiled around her black locks, letting her hand slip across the broken glass across the crown. She jerked her hand back as blooms of a dark crimson-colored liquid sprouted from her cut finger. She rubbed the blood away. Blood would be unseemly for her disguise.
    Today Arya was a noblewman of the higher-caste coming to see the beautiful new Rohin opal.
    It had been found in a small mining city in Magadha, a city called Rohin. The opal was said to have a swirling of colors that shimmered with the gleaming brilliance of ten suns. If Arya stole it she could sell it for at least a few hundred rudes.
    Maybe get enough money to sail away. Her mother always told her Akedon was full of shining towers and columns full of twisting line like snakes, she wanted to go there. But first she had to steal the opal. Arya pulled her hair back into a bun and held her head high.
    Three guards rimmed the prison. Keeping the opal in a prison was a smart idea, nobody would expect it. But after the nobles started visiting wearing their fancy saris and kurtas, the rumor spread fast. Fast enough for Arya to catch it and prepare to steal it.
    “Your name?” one guard asked. He had large, bushy black hair that turned into a beard with the same honey-dipped skin Arya had. He was obviously part of the Kshatriya, the warrior caste.
    “Ishika Kaumrya. My father is a Kshatriya and I have come to see the opal.”
    “A prison,” the guard said, “is no place for a lone lady. Come with your father.”
    Arya tapped his gold plated armor with a dark tiger tattooed across it. Her blue sari rippled across the sky like a stream trickling across the earth. She clenched the cloth in her hands and stared the guard in the eye. Arya wasn’t leaving now, she had spent weeks of hard earned rudes on this.
    “I’m a Kshatriya,” she lied. “A warrior. That is the blood that runs through my veins. Thieves, bandits, murderers do not scare me.”

    I’m looking for someone to help me in my weaknesses of world, plot, characters, and pacing. I would also like to brainstorm with somebody.
    Since I’m only drafting I would like someone around that stage.
    My email is:


  12. Hi all!

    NAME: I’m Claire!


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Mostly fantasy, or something with a fantastical twist, but also sci-fi, adventure and humour too.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Valorie Brash’s brother is murdered by petty thief and wanted criminal, Moxie, and pledges her life to seek vengeance. Then she’s Chosen, or gifted superpowers, by the god above, and inducted into the revered Chosen Corp. Though it seems her plans to defeat Moxie are easier than ever, Val soon discovers something isn’t right about her city, that conspiracy is laced in everything from Chosen Corp to her very existence, and that maybe Moxie is more innocent than she seems…

    It’s steampunk with anime influence (mostly magical girl, like Sailor Moon or Kill la Kill)! Currently on draft 4 at 89k words. Lots of action and bad puns. The main character, Val, is aroace (and sex- and romance-repulsed) so there’s no romance, either.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    (This is from the first chapter, but it’s at the very end! For context, Val and her mother, Méli, were attacked by Moxie, and Val’s brother, Elee, tried but failed to stop her.)

    It took moments for Val to regain her courage, for Méli to release her grip, for the tears to dry from her blotchy cheeks. For the illusions of dark tendrils to seep away. Together, they found the will to stand, and Val, knowing something had happened to Elee, scrambled through the back room, up the stairs, into the hallway, and into the living room.

    Furniture was smashed. Crockery was obliterated. Fragments of wood and metal littered the upheaved rugs. Score marks indicated where the plasma bolts had missed their intended target. The family painting was ripped in two, and the family safe was wide open in the wall cavity, cleared of everything but her parents’ wills. Wind billowed the curtains in angry protest through the open windows, and it howled in Val’s ears.

    And crumpled in a heap amongst the mess was Elee. The gun lay by his side, smashed to pieces. The plasma core leaked onto the carpet, and it marbled with ink from the overturned desk, running besides him like a river of poison. He wasn’t breathing – his chest frozen in time – and a single skein of blood ribboned from a pinprick in his neck.

    He was dead.

    It tumbled through Val, first slowly, then snowballing into something frigid, palpable and hard. Tears burst from her eyelids, but she didn’t sob. Dropping to her knees in front of his corpse, the world spinning beneath her, Val let every emotion, every thought, every memory of him crash and burn together. Until there was nothing but ash.

    But from cinders came a rush of hatred. A loathing so deep it climbed into the fractures in her heart and festered.

    And it was then that Valorie Brash vowed to take revenge.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone who can point out my flaws and encourage my strengths at the same time. I’m honest, but not downright blunt, and I hope a CP would be the same. Maybe someone to geek out about with too; if a scene gets me you bet I’ll have a running commentary of my reactions, lol.

    CONTACT INFO: If any of that sounds good, drop me an email at, and we can talk about swapping our first three chapters!

    If you want to see my reviewing style and the sort of books I like, you can also find me on Goodreads at, and my Twitter is @linhcindered.

    Good luck to all! 😀


  13. NAME: Hi! I’m Megan!

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB): Young Adult, dabbling in Adult Fiction

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): YA Fantasy, Adult Horror, and hopefully someday YA science fiction!

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Reece has always felt out of place except when playing her favorite MMORPG, Emmawrath. When she stumbles upon a familiar real-world location in-game, she is drawn into the familiar world that she once thought was just a game. After discovering she is part of a prophecy that is set to bring about the destruction of Emmawrath, Reece embraces her power and sets out to save her new world- and the people in it.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    Reece was stuck between a rock and a hard place. That is, if you consider a fire-breathing dragon to be a hard place. If not, then Reece was stuck between a rock and a dragon who was determined to make her breakfast.

    “Guys, I don’t know how much longer I can fight this thing. You got any bright ideas?” Reece shouted to her friends that were hiding at the opening of the Forest of Briars. Sweat poured down her face as the dragon shot another mouth full of fire at the boulder she took cover behind.

    “Don’t worry, we’ll think of something!” The response sounded far away and muddled by the almost constant roaring of the dragon. “I think we’re just gonna charge at it and see what happens.”

    “Well if that’s not the plan of the century…” Reece mumbled to herself. Her companions weren’t always the smartest but they were some of the best fighters she knew. They accepted her immediately after she met them during a battle outside of her home city several months ago. A group of rogue undead warriors and mages had formed a pack and were slowly making their way across the countryside, destroying small towns and killing as they went. Reece was one of only three with the ability to fight in the city, and with the two others currently out on a quest, she was the only one left to defend her people. With her spellbook and sword, Reece had no choice but to confront the pack on her own. Flinging spells and swinging her sword only did so much and just when she thought she could no longer fight, a small group charged into the remainder of the pack from behind and took them all out almost effortlessly. From then on, the five of them were inseparable, and they traveled around the country protecting various cities from the plethora of creatures dwelling in Emmawrath.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone who is willing to work with a literal work in progress! I have over 8000 words written but am still currently writing and would love to find a CP who is okay with possibly working chapter-by-chapter. I’m looking for constructive criticism but also remember I am human so maybe throw in some nice words here and there, too. Don’t hesitate to point out confusing bits or plot holes or even spelling/grammatical errors! Have an idea where the story could go? Let me know! Read something that doesn’t make sense? Help me work it out! I’d love to hear what you think and have a new perspective on my story and characters! Hopefully you like to read and end up enjoying what I’ve written and provide honest feedback- positive or negative.

    I can provide exactly what I’m looking for. Constructive criticism with kind words, spelling/grammar check (if you’re looking for that!), fresh eyes on your story that can point out plot holes or possible confusing points of the story, and anything else you may be looking for!

    CONTACT INFO: E-mail is the best way to reach me! ( I hope to hear from you (whoever you may be!) soon. Let’s work together to make our stories the best they can be!


  14. Reblogged this on The Writer's Block and commented:
    This is a fun Writer’s Event where writers can connect with each and a potential Critique Partner (CP)! Join in if you are interested! #WritersLife #Writers #Authors


  15. NAME: Hi, I’m Jessica.

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN: I’m an author/illustrator writing Picture Books

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN: I’d probably land in Fantasy. Definitely well inside Speculative Fiction: from fairytales to anthropomorphic animal adventures.

    PROJECT PITCH: Nine-year-old Edalene finds herself alone when her brother doesn’t return home from the forest after a day of chopping wood. Will her cleverness with animals and her pet Raven be enough to help her free him from the Enchantress of the Wood?

    Edeline was very young the night Jack the donkey returned with half a cart of wood and
    Father’s best ax… but no Father.

    Brock was older than his sister. But after that night he had to grow up fast. He was all Edeline had.

    Edeline was clever and animals trusted her. She would cure sick and injured animals for
    neighboring farmers. Brock was a woodman like his father. Together the children made
    enough to live on.

    They lived near a forest in a cottage with a well. Every morning Edeline read to Brock as he baked the bread. Then Brock would tuck a warm loaf in his bag, take up his father’s best ax, and lead Jack into the forest to gather wood.

    One morning, while the bread was baking, the pig got out of his pen. Brock and Edeline had to chase it down. The loaves burned and Brock had to go work in the forest without his lunch.

    That afternoon, Edeline waited for Brock at the head of the forest path by the well. She
    remembered the night she and Brock waited for their father to return. She remembered the smell of cedar when she hugged her father. She missed his kind smile.

    The sun disappeared below the horizon. Jack returned with a half loaded wagon and Father’s best ax… but no Brock.


    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’d like a critique partner to willing for an interchange of honest feed back about weak plot and character as well as story holes and inconsistencies. We can also say nice things and make suggestions. 🙂

    CONTACT INFO: The best way to contact me is by email,


  16. NAME: Hi, I’m Faye!


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): SF, Fantasy, Contemporary
    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): My current WIP is a high fantasy. Kasima must discover a way to dethrone the current King, in order to gain riches, and install a new regime, while surviving in a palace filled with court intrigue and murder.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)

    The blood dripped down my palms, printing the marble floor like cherry-painted stars. Re-arranging the dead limbs into appearing like a surprise attack was always the hardest part, I had already destroyed the room making it appear as though the attack had been a part of a theft.
    The woman sat huddled in a corner, her tears glittering down her cheeks like cracked diamonds. She had found me in a whirlwind of blubbering nonsense earlier that afternoon, and gripped my elbow like her life depended on it.
    “My husband’s dead,” she whispered. “He hit me and I..I was so angry I never meant too…It just.. he had found out that I..Oh by the holy sun..”
    “How did you find me?” I asked curiously.
    Though I was rather well-known for my ability to discover secrets and hide them efficiently, it wasn’t like I had decorated a sign at the front of my door. My business thrived because of secrecy and exclusivity, the rich didn’t want help until you had made it a point to refuse them.
    “A man I know recommended you,” she said, her fingers still gripping my arm.
    Of course, it was Rayan.
    “Well, first release my arm, and second my rates are very high,” I said curtly.
    “I’ll pay whatever you like, just please help me.”
    I cleaned the tips of his fingernail removing the bits of flesh, where he had scratched his wife.
    “Can you help?” I asked, glancing at Rayan who sat in the far corner cleaning his nails with his dagger.
    “I am sorry, my dear,” he replied. “I have a strict policy against touching dead bodies, though I applaud your exertion.”

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone who is good at world-building, pacing and characterization. I’m currently in the process of drafting, so someone who is drafting as well would be ideal.

    CONTACT INFO: Best way to contact me is by email


  17. NAME: Bec
    GENRE(S): Women’s fiction, romance, chick-lit

    PROJECT PITCH: After the motel owned by Ellie’s mom is seized by the government, Ellie’s lawyer ex-boyfriend steps in to help, but Nathan’s not the man Ellie thought he was and when she gets involved with his charming boss Jake, she risks everything.

    “I can’t believe that, out of all the lawyers, you would trust Nathan to help save the roof over your head.”

    I tried to reassure my friend, as well as myself. “I’m a paralegal. I can’t handle this case on my own. Nathan’s the only lawyer volunteering to help us. You should see him now…he looks so professional. He’s doing what he always said he was going to do. He works for one of the top firms in New York City. Give him some credit.”

    “No. You can’t polish a pile of shit. Ellie, that guy left you behind, like you meant nothing to him. You can’t trust him.”

    Ruby was always vocal, especially about how much she despised Nathan. It was proof of how close we were–like sisters–that our friendship survived the years I was with him. You’ve never experienced true torment until the two people you love, hate each other like those two did.

    I dreaded telling Ruby what I’d been contemplating. I wasn’t sure our friendship would survive another round.

    “I’m thinking about working at Nathan’s firm.”

    “What? I can’t believe you’d do that. What about your Mom?”

    I swallowed my guilt. I always swore I’d be there for Mom, but me leaving her and the motel behind might be our best shot at saving it.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’d like thoughts on my detailed outline and partial manuscript, and somebody to bounce ideas off as I complete my first draft (which is already well underway). Like a lot of writers, I am often concerned if my story choices are “enough” to be engaging for a reader. I want to make sure that readers fall in love with Jake, like Ellie is.
    I enjoy analyzing stories because I think it helps me reflect more on my own work, so I would value a CP who feels the same. Some of my favorite authors are Sophie Kinsella, Paige Toon & Emily Giffin.

    CONTACT INFO: Twitter: @bect83


  18. I’m going to post again since my initial post didn’t make it through.

    NAME: Joshua Clark

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN: YA and Adult, dabbled with MG but not my preferred category

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN: Fantasy and Science Fiction (YA and Adult), YA Contemporary and thriller/action/adventure

    PROJECT PITCH: In this near-future SF, a routine investigation for vigilante investigators Larin and Decklen opens up the opportunity for the two partners to take down a Tyoat crime lord strengthening his hold over the entire system. In a manhunt for the crime lord and his accomplices, an opportunity arrises for Larin to avenge former partners and Decklen to step out from the shadow of his cohort.


    I’m tired of trying to see the good in people. Near impossible when some shit shoots the guy I’m interrogating.
    The guy thuds to the ground but I’m not out of it yet. I flip the table, ducking behind it as lasers from the killer arc over my head.
    Pulling out my pistol I fire a few haphazard shots towards the man, our lasers illuminating the dimly lit bar. Screams come from the patronage, hurrying away from the firefight.
    The killer fires a few more shots in my direction and takes off out the door. I leap up and head after him.
    “Larin,” a voice yells. “Haven’t even got drinks yet and you’re screwing things up.”
    I skid to a stop and see the long haired boy approach me with two drinks.
    “What’d you get me?” I said.
    “The usual,” the teen boy responded.
    “It’s yours. I need to run,” I said.
    Decklen set it down on a table and took a big swig from his.
    “Don’t take too long,” I said on my way out the door.
    The sun had set yet the oppressive city lights didn’t seem to care. Enough illumination to see whatever the hell surrounded you. Some of it rather unsightly.
    Air transit raced by overhead, public and personal vessels zipping off to overcrowded nightlife scenes.
    “Damn,” I cursed, taking in the crowds around me. Took too long talking with Decklen. The trail of the killer already running cold.
    I paused for a moment. My shirt was wet. That close, no way to avoid the blood splatter.
    Scanning the area, crowds of people maneuvered past people to bars, clubs, restaurants, and theaters. I didn’t have any idea where the killer disappeared to.

    Can be honest with the problems my work is having but can also point out what is working.

    Plot holes and inconsistencies in arc, plot or character.

    CP doesn’t have to write the same genres as me but preferably someone who can appreciate/likes those genres and has a familiarity with them.
    I’ve written numerous novels all the way through but have yet to published anything. I’d like a dedicated partner that we can both push one another to reach our goals and help each other grow.

    I’m working on the above manuscript, have a YA spy-thriller that I’d like to give another rewrite before querying, and a few other stories well along in the drafting process.



  19. NAME: Pim!


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN: Contemporary

    PROJECT PITCH: A contemporary, magic-realism story where Mint and Tuck, two Australian-Thai’s, who feel estranged from their own culture, search for Mint’s missing father in the heart of Thailand.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)

    They told her that the water spirits would come out tonight.

    “Look nice for them today,” they said, “You can make a wish. You can start afresh.”

    Tucker stood by the bank of the river, with her jagged cropped hair, wearing a light jacket and jeans. The air hummed with anticipation as people crowded the river’s edge. They all watched as those in traditional Thai garments placed small banana leafed boats on the murky water. The krathongs, as they were called in Thai, floated like stars bursting from dark skies.

    For the first time, the end of the school year had coincided with the Loi Krathong festival and her mother said that they were going, her reason being, “We need all the luck we can get.”

    So here they were, by one of the small canals just off the Chao Phraya River close to Bangkok, with the family she hardly knew.

    A hand tugged at hers, drawing her from her thoughts. She looked down to see her mother knelt beside the water, holding the krathong in her hand. They had spent the entire afternoon making one each, decorating it with flowers and other offerings for the goddess of water.

    Tucker held onto hers and set it on the water. It wobbled, threatening to tip over.

    “It’s physics mum,” Tucker muttered as she pulled it out. It was never going to join the rest of the beautiful lights. “The candle’s too big. Centre of gravity is all off.”

    “I don’t want that attitude anymore,” she replied, speaking in Thai. “I want you to get rid of your sadness and anger. This is a new start for us.”

    “A new start?” Tucker echoed. She passed the krathong to her mum. “How is this meant to help —”

    “Tucker, why do you have to analyse everything?” she said with an exasperated sigh.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’m looking for a partnership where we motivate each other to reach our goals, as well as someone who’s not afraid to give me brutally honest opinions. I would like someone who I can throw ideas back and forth, brain storming solutions to problems that I will have. I’m also keen for someone who’s an advocate of diverse stories as well, because of queer themes and the exploration of a different culture, that’s present in the novel.

    This will be my first proper critique partner! I will try my best to be a good critique partner and give constructive criticism. Let me know what works for you!

    CONTACT INFO: Send me a DM pimqt @ twitter!


  20. NAME:
    Hi Everyone! I’m Sandra

    I write YA/MG (mostly YA)

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc):
    SF/Fantasy mostly

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines):
    I’m currently working on a Six of Crows meets Blade Runner meets Ready Player One/Warcross/Inception. It has dual POVs and takes place both a future California and in the 90s; and has a wonderfully diverse cast of characters.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    Akari Nakamura stared at the young man seated before Governor Edna Rodgers, unsure if she was going to have to stun his brains out. He was dressed in a long, red coat, red leather pants, and an almost see-through, iridescent shirt. His long hair was slicked back and had been dyed to look like it was aflame. He had an infinity symbol tattooed underneath his right eye. It was small, monochromatically black and unmistakable; it was the mark of the infiniti—a radical group, which in Akari’s experience, always preceded trouble of the worst kind. She couldn’t begin to guess how this kid had made it past first-level security. How he had made it into the capitol building at all—infiniti or not. Not that it mattered at the moment. Here he was—in the flesh. If she shot him, despite how much she wanted to do it, despite how her gut was telling her to blast him now and apologize for it later, Akari knew she’d bring the whole lot of them down on their heads if she did. Then, they’d really be in trouble.

    Akari’s only—and best—option was to listen to what the young infiniti had come to say and hope he’d only come to talk.

    Still, precarious by nature, Akari moved her hand around her weapon, which rested snuggly in its usual spot on the utility belt at her waist. Each of her slender fingers found their way to their usual place of comfort. It calmed her, if nothing else, to feel the familiar coolness of the steel in her hand. If the infiniti had come on an assassination mission, if he moved to attack first, he would be met with more than he bargained for.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: A sci-fi buff like me! MS-wise who can help me pinpoint major plot faults; notice anything that doesn’t make sense or seems wonky; that has an eye for world building and who isn’t afraid to voice an opinion. I haven’t finished the MS, but am hoping to be able to send it out for beta reading/CPing in chunks since my goal for the MS is 100k words. And I’m definitely open to either or with you! I’m just looking for someone who wants to get nitty gritty and get some manuscripts cranked out together.

    CONTACT INFO: I’d love to connect and trade some chapters and look forward to connecting! sandraproudman[at] or you can reach me on Twitter @sandraproudman :]


  21. (Like a few others before me, I am also attempting a repost…)
    NAME: Anna
    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN: Speculative and Historical.
    PROJECT PITCH: In a reimagined 1930s where lethal monsters prowl the streets of Chicago, an amateur smuggler, a disgraced academic, and a gang of monster-hunting girls uncover a horrifying scandal, dodging gangsters and pesky little things like consequences along the way.

    April fog wrapped itself around Violet Hooper and her boat like a familiar shawl, and in its lazy swirl the orange glow of the city was nothing but a haze. She rowed. The current tugged. Each draw of her shoulders brought a new soreness to her arms, but she wouldn’t risk the motor – not when a Coast Guard cruiser might stop and inquire as to what a young lady was doing out in the lake at one in the morning.

    But Sullivan risked it. The deep hum of his craft’s motor broke the misty quiet and Violet bit down on her annoyance, stilling her oars.

    “You’re more punctual than your old man,” Sullivan said, his voice a firm baritone over the waves. Violet grabbed the line he tossed and scowled at the flashlight beam he dragged across her face. Sullivan’s blockade runner nestled alongside her boat like a protective mama goose. Geese were properly mean. So were Sullivan’s crew—especially when cornered.

    “Turn the damn light off,” Violet said. Even casual mentions of “Sly” Doug Hooper tried her patience.

    Sullivan waved a hand. His nearest employee grabbed a crate. It was slick, already, with moisture, but he lifted it with no difficulty. Everyone on Sullivan’s crew had practice. After this stop there would be more, Coast Guard be damned. One of the men stood on the bow, a rifle aimed at some spot on the horizon, on the lookout for trouble above and below the choppy waves.

    “You’re too cautious.”

    “And you’re too bold.” Violet stood easily in her gently rocking boat. She parted her wad of bills, counting with the help of his unreliable flashlight.


    “One-thirty,” Sullivan said.

    Violet narrowed her eyes at him.

    “I don’t need charity.”

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’m looking for someone with a good eye for character – someone who can draw my attention to weak spots in characterization. My current WIP features two narrators, so I’d also love someone who will keep me on the right track with distinctive voices. I’m in the middle of drafting, and I don’t mind helping with outlines/brainstorming.
    CONTACT INFO: please find me on twitter! @bookshores


  22. NAME: Serena


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Contemporary, Fantasy, Historical Fiction

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Recent college graduate and Bengali-American Jahanara accepts an internship with a South Korean company that spends half the year abroad filming a variety show. During this, she gets involved with a member of the cast after witnessing him collapse from his rapidly worsening dieting habits and confronts own mental health to help him recover.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    Unlike the perfume that swallowed Jahanara when the elevator doors opened at Mina’s stop, this floor had the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air with the sound of a single person tapping away at a keyboard. It was all surreal, from her distorted image splitting in half when the doors slid open to the spacious hallway that seemed to stretch out for miles.

    Before the doors could close on her, Jahanara stepped onto the beige carpet, her eyes falling on the young woman seated behind the receptionist’s desk. Her gaze shifted from Jahanara’s face to the ID card slung around her neck, nodding in acknowledgement.

    “Good morning,” said Jahanara, resting her hands against the counter as the woman lifted the office phone to her ears.

    The young woman, her name printed ‘Nam Young-hee’ in the smallest size under the Korean lettering of her name glanced up from the screen of her computer, a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece, despite the fact that there was nobody on the other side. “You are Miss Chowdhury?”

    Jahanara barely noticed the girl stuttering over her name. “Yes. Jahanara Chowdhury. I’m here for the internship.”

    Young-hee held up a single finger. “Please wait.”

    With a nod, Jahanara diverted her attention to her surroundings. In the background, Young-hee’s rapid Korean added to the sleek atmosphere, reminding Jahanara yet again that she was no longer in America. No, the textured champagne walls and fingerprint sensors belonged to South Korea, and the windows she made out at the far end of the hall overlooked Seoul, not Baltimore, as she was so used to seeing.

    And that man walking towards her, a bright smile on his weathered face, was Manager Sim, the man responsible for her hiring.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Overall just someone who can pick up on character development and pacing. It would be nice if someone had knowledge on writing about different cultures/avoiding cultural appropriation, particularly South Korean culture, as well as Moroccan and Singaporean, and writing about mental health and problems, including things such as self-esteem, extreme dieting etc. I’m still drafting and finding my way around, so I’m open to changes along the way! Would love someone who could help me with sensitivity reading!

    CONTACT INFO: DM on Twitter, @safmannan


  23. NAME




    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc)


    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines)

    Refusing to speak, Joley Courtois is tormented by the sound of a beating drum. Frightened and confused she wonders of its origins and why she alone hears it.
    When UFOs breach Earth’s atmosphere she and her family flee London for their idyllic home in Salisbury. But little does Joley know there is no running from the aliens or her hallucinations and what it means to hear the Beating Silence.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)

    WARNING: Mental Health themes.

    Piercing cries shook my mind and the inpatient room trembled in dizzying waves. I squeezed my eyes shut and wrapped my arms around my chest until my ribs creaked, but ma mère and papa’s terrified screams continued to weave into the windscreen’s crunching shriek. Glass exploded into a million slivers slicing into my skin, ripping my flesh with hot pain. In the distance emergency sirens wailed, ambulances and fire trucks raced to reach us. But it was too late. The flashing blue lights swept across my vision with the crackle of flames burning through the wreck.

    “…And her parents, are they on the visitor’s list today?” Nurse Ackerman said, her voice breaking through.

    I heaved in a breath, chest tight, suppressing tears as my plastic covered mattress crumpled beneath the anxious convulsions riding through my body.

    Not them. Please, please don’t let mum and dad come. I squeezed my ribs tighter. Please make them go away.


    I’m looking for:

    Someone who can help on a grammatical and punctuation level.

    And the overall story.


    Twitter @ericajok


  24. NAME: Claire A.

    AGE: 27


    GENRES: Typically Historical Fantasy and Sci-Fi, lately I’ve also been working on my first contemp.

    PROJECT PITCH: A reimaging of the classic Greek myth of Daphne and Apollo, Olympus Rising is a Young Adult Historical Fantasy.

    SHORT BLURB: “The people of Sparta anxiously await news of the chase. Go claim the prize of Carneia. Nobody can know about the dying power of Olympus, or my task for you.” After tossing the garland into the water beside me, Artemis drifts away, closer to the tangle of trees enclosing us. “An Olympian escort of my choosing will wait for you outside of the city at dawn. Don’t be late.”
    She turns to leave, our meeting over, my fated part in her quest assured. Pyrrhus follows the goddess without resistance.
    “What about my brother?” I ask. “Is he to be set free and hunted like an animal?”
    “You have until the Harvest Moon, young Daphne, to fulfill your obligation to me. Until then, your brother will be safe,” she says, her moonlit figure quickly fading. Her last words are a whisper on the wind as she disappears among the dark trees. “After that day, I make no promises as to his fate.”
    As the sudden silence of Artemis’s departure settles around me, I reflect again on Ligeia’s stories. She always said that the gods are but just and cruel, beloved and feared. Their life’s work is maintaining that balance held over mortals.
    Fear for my brother’s life – for my life balanced on the golden curse – shudders through me in time to the erratic pulsing of my heart, and I realize the gods also fear us.
    Whipped backs will always heal, but sometimes they will no longer bow.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone who is willing to read and critique, bounce ideas off of, and share the journey of publication together, including all of its pitfalls.

    CONTACT INFO: @cmandrewslit on both Twitter and Instagram 🙂


  25. (I attempted to post this already but it didn’t go through, so if my comment is a duplicate I apologize!)

    NAME: Larissa Faye

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB)/: I write in MG/YA, and dabble a bit in ADULT. The project I’m working on right now classifies as Upper YA Fantasy.

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc) I write mainly Speculative, SF, Fantasy, and Magical Realism at the moment. I love sci fi, dark fantasy, and spooky speculative fiction! A few of my favorite authors are LEIGH BARDUGO, LAINI TAYLOR, and ALYSSA WONG to give you an idea of my type of style.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines) BEASTS OF NO NATION meets PUELLA MAGICA MADOKA. In a civil war torn Africa, a disgraced boy soldier and a young girl hunted for being magic find their fates more intertwined than they ever could have imagined. As violence grows, and fear saturates the country, it’s discovered that the very war itself may be more magical than anyone could have ever imagined.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)
    (this is from the middle of my 2nd chapter).

    “…The last two girls were arrested together, and walked in on their own—the soldiers had merely opened the door and in they flounced, blank and smug and so completely off. That should’ve been the first red flag. But then the doors closed and the smell enveloped me.


    I slapped my hand to my nose and stifled the cough that shot up my throat. They smelt of death: pungent, dank, decaying. The expressions on their faces were even more disturbing.
    The first of the pair was smiling—a small curl to her lips against pale, overly plump cheeks— but there all the same. She sat with her hands clasped neatly on her lap, her eyes glazed and twinkling with a strange glee.

    The other girl sat farther away—on the opposite end of the paddy-wagon, where nobody had claimed a seat—and sat similarly, her arms crossed against her chest and her eyes gazing blankly out the window. But there was a strange stiffness present in her muscles, leaving her looking frozen and hard like a statue. The stench suddenly intensified, and I glanced down to see her nails digging into her skin, spouting tiny pinpricks of blood. But her face remained blank and empty, like a mannequin.

    That whispery voice tickled at the edge of my hearing again, and only one word seemed to swim in my mind.



    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’m looking for someone who can give brutally honest—but constructive—criticism on any weaknesses I may have in my plot, pacing, and overall writing. Consistent communication would be awesome, and I’d love for a partnership where we can motivate each other and hold each other accountable for our work. (and do fun stuff like brainstorming and writing sprints!). I’m currently in my “first” drafting process (I’ve redrafted and altered many plot points) but I’m open to anyone at any point in their writing process.
    CONTACT INFO You can contact me at my twitter @LarLarWrites ! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  26. NAME: Megan

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB): Young Adult, New Adult, Adult

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): I have two projects that I’m working on. The first is a Urban Fantasy / Horror NA/A (not ready for CPs yet, but hopefully soon!) and the one that I AM seeking CPs for is a YA Contemporary/ issue driven with a romantic subplot.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines):
    We all have a voice inside our heads telling us we’re not good enough. For Kristen Hall, that’s Ana, the personification of her eating disorder. With graduation looming – with the chaos of shifting relationships and the complexities of families and flawed parents – Kristen finds herself forming a bond with Alex Taylor – something raw and true that goes beyond Kristen’s mental struggle.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):
    I lay my head on my arm, just as the lights shut off. The window behind me casted a glare on the TV screen in the front of the classroom.
    I tried hard to keep my eyes open, but it was hard. The loss of electrolytes that were supposed to be supplying my brain with power gave me a headache. Everything was fuzzy.
    Mr. Knollan sat at his desk in the corner, his chair swiveled toward the screen and his arms folded over his bulging frame. Even his eyes were beginning to droop. A young girl and boy, much younger than me, sat on the far end of a bench—white, pink and yellow wildflowers peeked up from behind them, and the Arc de Triomphe was in the distance. The sky was perfect, cloudless and cerulean blue. They talked of some contest that the girl was partaking in—at least I thought that was what they were talking of; my French was pretty rudimentary, even after two years.
    My eyes drifted closed, but I knew that I couldn’t really fall asleep. Mr. Knollan would surely call me out for it, again, and I’d rather not be the center of attention. I kept an ear on the actor’s conversation, but only partly. The hard surface was cool beneath my arm, a nice contrast against the heat from outside.
    I drummed my fingertips on the desktop, soundless. I opened my eyes and watched my shadow dance across the peachy, white surface. I tried to solely concentrate on that—my movements, the movie—anything to not think of the coming hour. It was a lost cause though, really. I couldn’t escape it. I could already smell the deep fryers, the grease that pooled on the pizza…the heavy oil that coated the French fries… All of the unsafe foods.
    My stomach growled at the thought, like a rabid animal. The sound was brief, but it reverberated around the otherwise quiet room. I tensed instantly, absolutely still; my face reddened—as if someone would be able to know exactly that it was me. My eyes searched the room, but no one that I could see looked my way, or even acknowledged the noise.
    But that did little to subdue my wild heart beats.
    I kept still a moment longer before I relaxed enough to close my eyes again.
    God, I was so hungry.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’m looking for someone’s who’s motivated, with good communication and feedback, and who will be honest. I’ve done a major rewrite and I”m looking for consistency with plot, pacing, subplot… If we do end up working together, I have a list of questions that go into more detail as to what specifically I’m looking for.



  27. Trying this again (it hasn’t shown up yet). Sorry if this is a duplicate post.

    NAME: Cassie Frye
    AGE CATEGORY: YA mostly.
    GENRE: Contemporary, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Historical

    PROJECT PITCH: Yoon Hee is pulled out of isolation when her mother is murdered and she’s kidnapped. Sun Ha is desperate to find a cure for her brother, who has fallen ill to a sleeping plague that is spreading across Goyong. Together, they work to unleash the power of the Dragon Spirits before either the plague or a burgeoning rebellion destroy everything they love.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    Sun Ha furrowed her brows at the paper tacked on a poorly constructed wall of lumber, the sheet’s unfamiliar lines and shapes taunting her. She wasn’t the only one that couldn’t read the notice, though. Most of the people in Pyongpo were illiterate and at the mercy of self-righteous men that thought the Dragon’s gift made them special.

    Despite her illiteracy, Sun Ha could easily guess what the paper said. Four times in her life she’d seen the post, and four times the nobleman had made their way through the town to weed out the gifted. What would they do if they knew she was blessed as well? And what would they say if they knew she rejected her gift? They used wealth to tempt families, but all the jewels and royal promises couldn’t pull her away from her younger brother in his time of need.

    She tightened her fist, grappling with the need to be by his side now. Only two hours, and she felt like it had been too long. Her mind swirled with all the horrors of what could happen while she was gone. She found a release for her tension by snatching the paper and letting it crumple in her fist. She threw it on the ground and spit as the tightness in her shoulders loosened.

    It wasn’t the way they pulled children away from their families, but rather the Emperor’s silence in the wake of the plague that enraged her—a plague that had afflicted her brother into a comatose state. Alive, but not living.

    And he wasn’t the only one.

    “Hey!” Someone yelled from behind, but she had already moved and turned the corner toward the main road. If the man intended to follow he would have to pick her out of the crowd.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I want someone in it for the long haul. Someone I can bounce ideas off of/who I can talk plot with and vice versa. I’m mostly looking for big picture comments for my WIP. Right now, my draft is pretty rough, so I’m not as concerned with syntax but I’ll appreciate any constructive criticism to grow my writing. FYI: I’m half Korean and my current book does draw inspiration from Korean mythology. It started off as a sleeping beauty retelling but it’s much more than that now. LOL.


  28. NAME: AJ


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Fantasy

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines):
    15-year-old Septima’s parents sell her and her pet demon to a necromancer. He trains her as an assassin to usurp power for himself. But Septima soon realizes she doesn’t have to be a tool. She can be strong. She can be feared. She can rule them all.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    When I was born, the gods descended from the heavens, gathered around my cradle, and said, “Kill her.”

    My parents obliged.

    They left me exposed on the beach for three days and three nights.
    They came back, expecting to find an emaciated corpse or nothing at all. Instead, they found me plump and giggling, with a daemon floating above my head.
    I named him Charon.

    The first light of dawn blazes through the crisscrossed metal bars of my bedroom window, burning away the last shade of night. As the first prickling of sunlight warms my skin, I fumble from my bed and stagger toward the window, hissing at the coldness of the marble tile against my bare feet.

    For the thousandth time, I wish I was allowed a fire, or even a candle. But gods forbid I burn down the mansion. As far as my parents are concerned, I’d murder the entire family in their beds if given half a chance. But they’re wrong.

    I’d spare my sisters.

    Reaching the window, I clamber up onto the divan and peer through the black iron bars that keep me from freedom.

    I turn my head to watch Charon floating coiled above my rumpled bed. With his head tucked away, he looks like a twisted bundle of armored scales and spikes hovering in the air. A pair of obsidian horns protrude from his hidden head, rising and falling with every rumbling breath. In sleep his scales shimmer a single color, pulsing bands of red that brighten and dim, as though in sync with something intangible.

    “Sweetling,” I say. “It’s morning, would you like to watch the ships with me?” No response from Charon, though from somewhere among the twisted collection of muscular coils, a pink forked tongue flickers in and out.

    -Manuscript beta reading
    -Pacing and plot holes issues
    -Noting issues in characterization and consistency
    -General broad thoughts about story arc, worldbuilding etc.
    -Cutting word count, currently around 109k words and trying to get under 100k



    Hello everyone! Saw this on my feed and though that I may as well give it a try. I’m Buchanan Sigrist!
    I would like to think that my current project is a NA but, since I’m not even in that age bracket yet, it’ll probably turn out being a YA with hints of NA.
    My current project is fantasy with an underlying taste of sci-fi. Those are my two main genres, but I drift into dystopias from time to time and I’ve been thinking about doing a slice of life, sans romances.

    “A group of tight-knit friends with underlying tensions find themselves dragged into a new and savage world where making even simple mistakes can have severe– and lethal– consequences.”

    BLURB(first 350 words):
    The apartment had the scent of winter spice, vanilla candles, and an underlying layer of antibacterial soap and cleaning fluid. The whole flat was surgically clean. The floor was swept to near perfection and the walls were in a clear eggshell white, entirely stainless and smooth, unadorned and undecorated. Meanwhile, every table top and work surface in the apartment was spotless and shiny– the sink, the oven, and the metal-fronted cupboards were kept to such a polished sheen that they could’ve been chrome. In fact, if there hadn’t been a clearly valuable television and games console rigged up in the living room, a newcomer might say that the apartment was entirely unoccupied. Alongside the almost clinical state of the apartment, there was one other thing that wasn’t quite right: namely the Thing that was hovering between the television and the black sofa was very strange indeed. A long and narrow rip dangling mid-air, a ragged gash in the fabric of the world itself that refracted light like a prism.
    Despite the oddity and the nearly barren apartment, there was indeed an inhabitant: all the curtains were drawn and a faint yellow morning light streamed through the gaps as the sounds of New York City waking up rose from the streets below.
    The light from a bedroom window was cast upon the face of a sleeping student– Jesse McFadden, a young man from Maine. His brow furrowed and he tossed over to enjoy a few more precious minutes of sleep, trying to cram in the extra moments of time he had left before his neighbour woke up and promptly began to blare workout music, like he always did. Every morning at exactly eight-thirty A.M except for Christmas, New Year’s and Halloween, it was almost like an alarm clock. As a matter of fact, Jesse hadn’t set his alarm clock for the past three years because every morning without fail, his neighbour woke him up.

    Since I’m a beginner at this sort of thing (it’s the first time I’ve really been involved in online writing communities), I’d like someone who can be quite firm with me so I learn what’s up and how things work– if it’s possible, I’d like them to be fairly encouraging at the same time. In terms of plot and development, I’d greatly appreciate it if someone would be up for discussion in terms of worldbuilding, character development and setting along with pointing out plot discrepancies and other problems. Also, I have a feeling that this current project is going to be WAY too long (I’ve been told most publishers want 100k at most and I’m at 50,000 while being nowhere near the halfway point), so if anyone would be able to help me cut it down to the essentials, that would be wonderful.

    Twitter: @fluffiest_shark (my DMs are open and will probably remain so)


  30. NAME: Korrie


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN: Fantasy

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): mermaidS?! (excuse me, MER. Everyone knows I‎t was men who added the maid.) What young girl wouldn’t want to be a mermaid?? Probably none if they knew that I‎t meant joining a civilization on the brink of civil war. Maggie Gold enters this world after being attacked and almost drowned by a magical jelly fish.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)

    The first time Maggie had ridden a wave like this, was that first and only day her parents went to the beach. As they spent the day in their own worlds, Maggie spent the day with ocean. It had only taken her a few minutes of being ignored before she wandered away from her mother and father. She had only planned to walk along the edge of the water, but soon found herself wading in up to her waist. When the first wave came, she stood frozen with fear and was knocked off her feet. When she emerged from the water, she was surronded by adults, asking her if she was alright and where her parents were. Maggie stared back up at them with her big blue eyes, smiled, and walked out deeper into the ocean. She spent the rest of that day in the water; riding waves, swimming out to buoys, and trying to hold her breath as long as she could. When she finally forced herself out and back to her parents, she thought they would be overjoyed to see her, assuming they had been looking for her all day. They hadn’t. They hadn’t even noticed she was gone.

    Maggie tried to focus on the memory of that day as she started to be moved by the wave. She had felt so natural in the water, like she belonged there. For some reason, this felt different. She was nervous in the one place she had always felt safe. The water continued pulling her along. She looked to her right and saw Cat’s mop of hair moving in sync with her. And then, she felt something touch her leg. It suctioned around her calf. She looked up just in time to see the wave crash towards the shore with Cat’s hair in the foam. She was completely unaware that her friend was no longer beside her. Maggie opened her mouth to scream and swallowed a mouthful of water as she was pulled under.

    Maggie struggled. She tried to swim up to the surface several times, but got pulled back down further each time. Soon, she was too tired to fight any longer. Her heart pounded in her chest. She opened her eyes and braced herself for the salt to burn, but when they opened she felt nothing. She saw clearly through the normally murky water. She felt whatever was under her tug her leg and her body was pulled farther out to sea. When she looked down at her leg, she saw nothing.

    Her lungs began to burn and she knew she wouldn’t be able hold her breath much long. She wondered how long she had been under water. She wondered if Cat had noticed that she never caught the wave. She wondered how she was still conscious.

    She was no longer being pulled, but instead was stuck floating in place. It was as if her leg was tied and her body was a boat in a harbor. Her bright hair floated around her face. Beams of light shined through it.

    “I can’t be that deep if I can still see the sun.” She thought, reassuring herself.

    In one last attempt,Maggie tried using her arms and free leg to swim up for air, but whatever was holding her down would not budge. Her mind began to fog and her vision went blurry. She thought of her parents. How would they react to being told that their only child’s boy was found out at sea? She thought of Talia. She would no longer have a job. She thought of Cat and how much they had talked about their futures and what they wanted to accomplish in life. This thought turned her fear into sadness. She thought of the day, they first met, years ago. She had been so desperate to get to the beach, it had almost been like something in her heart was pulling her there. Now, looking back on it, she thought that feeling must have been fate forcing her to meet Cat.

    Just as she began to doze off, Maggie saw something through her hair. Curiosity gave her a boost of energy and she shook her head to get a better look. It was a jelly fish. Was she beginning to hallucinate? She had never seen anything like it, and she had been to this beach hundreds of times. The jellyfish was so white it was practically glowing. The bell shaped body was no larger than Maggie’s fist, but what made it so absurd was its tentacles. Out of the illuminating body were frilly strings, longer than Maggie’s legs. They were the same pearly white as the body and they floated around the jellyfish, making it look beautiful and wild.

    As soon as Maggie locked eyes on the creature, a loud, flat beep filled her ears. It reminded her of the machine’s on hospital shows that go off when the patient’s heart stops. Had her’s stopped? Maggie was too mesmerized to be afraid. She stared at the glowing creature as if she were hypnotized by it. She didn’t blink for what felt like hours and completely forgot she was trapped underwater and would probably drown. Her eyes began to glaze over and he vision went blurry. Her irises turned the same iridescent white she was staring into it. She felt nothing, no fear, no panic, no sadness.

    Suddenly, she was shocked back into reality by an incredible stinging pain. She looked down at her arm and saw that while she had been enchanted by the jellyfish, its tentacles wrapped around her wrist and forearm. The pain was so sharp, tears came out of her eyes and blended in with the ocean. The loud beep completely consumed her mind now. Her arm felt as if it were on fire. The beep grew more high pitched, like a woman’s scream, and then eventually like a boiling teapot. Was the sound trying to say something? Or was the pain and the loss of oxygen driving her crazy? She clenched her teeth, trying to manage the pain. This is not what she thought drowning was like. Shouldn’t she be peacefully unconscious by now? The sound continued. It was saying something. She wasn’t crazy. “Glow moan”? “Go phone.”? And then, it was clear. “Go Home.” It repeated over and over in the shrill screech. “Go Home.” “Go Home.” It sounded so distant.. Was it coming from the jellyfish? Where did that go? Was this all in her head? Her arm still burned. She looked down and saw that where there had once been the silver arms of the creature, were now bright, bloody lines in a webbed pattern against her skin. She could no longer handle the pain. Her eyes lolled towards the back of her head. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Then, there was nothing.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: some experience in the writing process, similar taste, and honesty!



  31. NAME: Monica Borg
    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Sci-fi, Fantasy, Romance (always a mix of at least two of these).
    I am currently working on four separate projects, one being completed with a sequel (and a third to come, with two bridging novellas) which is what I’ve pasted below. The second is a sci-fi/romance based on time travel. The third is a high fantasy/romance, and the fourth is a sci-fi/romance about interdimensional travel.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines):
    Mae Stovall never wanted – never knew, that she was assisting the government she works for commit genocide against her people, nor did she plan on discovering that fall of her society was caused by the hands of a much more sinister saboteur.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):
    It took us sixty scouts and twenty years to find this planet. More so, it took us a further ten to build the spaceship – Priquon, select the citizens to board it, brief them, then train them for the cryochambers and place them in the hypersleep. Then it was five years in the hypersleep until we reached the black hole, and another fifteen to cross the solar system to our new home: Earth.
    We didn’t name the planet Earth when we first received the data of its habitability; no, we named it H-6, for Hope Six. We doomed our own planet by waging war too often, exhausting resources, poisoning it. And the day that first ocean dried up, well that was the day the Leaders sent out for volunteers to travel to unexplored galaxies in search of a new home. Those who were waging war were not in agreement with seeking a new home; they tried many times to destroy Priquon as it was being built. Many Advena lost their lives protecting the ship in hope that the future generations could live in peace.
    Of the sixty scouts deployed into space – travelling between sixty galaxies, we only heard back from twenty-six; from that twenty-six, only three had potential.

    Someone who can be brutally honest and tell me if something is wrong, may be offensive, and just someone who can tell me if what I’ve written is actually trash.
    But also, I’m looking for someone who loves romance, and the fantasy worlds (especially urban) where it doesn’t follow the typical path.
    I am from Australia, so also someone who won’t be picky about language and grammar differences. 🙂



  32. NAME: Annalisa


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): SF/Fantasy, Contemporary

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Millie’s life is falling apart around her: her beloved single mother, poetry professor Dr. Eloise Godwin, has recently entered a nursing home after reaching a critical stage in her battle with Huntington’s Disease. Despite her aunt’s pleas for Millie to come live with her, she’s convinced she needs to go it alone. Until one night, when a meteor falls in the woods behind her house, and at the center of the crater Millie finds a strange and unearthly girl …

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)
    The day after I turned seventeen years old, a girl fell from the sky and landed behind my house.
    This was in August, on a Friday — the last free weekday before we started school again for the year on Monday. I couldn’t say I was enjoying it, exactly, because I was working. I had a part-time job at a farm stand, weighing people’s tomatoes and loading trays of marigolds into trucks. I liked it well enough, but it was still work.
    On this day in particular, my best friend Theo came to visit me when we were about to close. I was counting out the change in the cash drawer, and Melanie, one of my coworkers, stuck her head into the shed and said, “Your boyfriend is outside.” She was chewing gum, open mouthed, and looked bored.
    “Boyfriend?” I snorted. “What’s he look like? Because I’ve never met him.”
    “He’s got blue hair.” No sense of humor.
    “Oh. That’s not my boyfriend, that’s my Theo.”
    I finished counting, despite the distraction, locked up the cash drawer, and handed it to her. “Put this in the vault.”
    She looked like she might complain, but I breezed out the door before she could get a word out, stripping my work apron off as I went. I balled it up into a wad and shoved it into my back pocket, and headed towards the parking lot.
    Theo was standing by his car. His hair, as Melanie had said, was dyed freshly blue for the new school year — the last time I’d seen him it had been orange. He had his earbuds in and was drumming his fingers on the hood of the car.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Structural and developmental editing, checking for consistency and clarity in worldbuilding and mythology.

    CONTACT INFO: email me at


  33. NAME: Hi, I’m Andrea!

    I write YA.

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Contemporary, Sci-Fi, Paranormal.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines) Aurelia Sabina and her friends + annoying brother head to the Australia so Aurelia can meet her internet friend. Along the way, she connects with a mood New Zealander, who teaches her about love, siblings, and what it means to forego self-doubt.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)

    Aurelia’s Daily Life.
    A Day in My Life!
    Dorky High School Girl.
    Short Girl, Big Blog.

    No one ever told me that the hardest thing about starting a blog is naming it. No one. I wonder if the people with all the cool blog names spent agonizing seconds just thinking about it, or if it just came to them. It probably just came to them as they’re filled with awesome creative juices, and here I am, still mulling it over two years after the fact. When I was sixteen, I told myself I’d do it in a month, and then I told myself that by the time I was seventeen, it’d be better. Here I am, just a few days away from my eighteenth birthday, and nothing yet. Sometimes I feel like I should just realize this blog is never going to happen.

    “Really? You brought your laptop to school?” a voice startles me.

    I shut my laptop so hard, I’m afraid I might break the screen. My friends cannot know about what I’m doing. No. Mostly for privacy reasons so I can write and bitch about them if I want, but also because it’s a little embarrassing. Standing in front of me is my friend Regina. Tall-ish, well much taller than my under five feet frame, in a sundress that shows off her toned legs with her red hair pulled on top of her head, Regina is everything I’m not. Maybe this is why we’re friends. I stand under five feet, also wearing a sun dress, except with neckline much higher than Regina’s as my ridiculous breasts don’t make a neckline like Regina’s appropriate for school…or anywhere really.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone to connect with over writing, loving to read, and someone who invests themselves in what they read

    twitter: spaceneedleho


  34. NAME: Avalynn (Hiiiii.)


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc) Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and I’ve got plans for one contemporary if I can ever stop being afraid of contemporary long enough to give it a shot.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines) Twin lake sirens work with the wizard Merlin to find the reborn soul of King Arthur to stop a dangerous magical ritual hundreds of years in the making.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page) (Formatting pasted in a little wonky, so hang in there.)

    Adyna had been at the bottom of the lake for the last two hours, so of course Nain said that I had to go tell her it was time for dinner. Somehow, being twelve minutes older than her meant that I was supposed to be the older, more mature sister, and as a result, I was usually the one sent to deal with her when she was in a mood.

    Just because I was supposed to be more mature didn’t mean that I had to live up to the expectation, though, so it was in full-on sulking mode that I made my way to our deck that was built directly over the lake. The smell of Nain’s rosemary potatoes drifted through the open patio door, reminding me to hurry up and get on with it. We had no railing at the edge of our deck, so I simply stood at the end of it.

    “Adyna!” I yelled, crossing my arms against the chill of the gentle but brisk spring breeze as I leaned out across the water. “It’s suppertime!”

    “I’m pretty sure Nain could have done that herself,” Auntie Jaelah said dryly from where she was reading a library book, the bottom half of her body submerged in water as she held onto the dock, occasionally turning a page with damp fingers. I was pretty sure our local librarian hated her, though obviously with good reason.

    “I didn’t ask you,” I muttered, and she flicked water in my general direction. “Adyna, seriously,” I yelled again, cupping my hands around my mouth as if this small attempt at acoustics would make a noticeable difference.

    “Stick your face in, Tristin,” Auntie Jaelah offered. “She’s probably far enough down that she can’t hear you.”

    “You think?”

    “Don’t get smart with me,” she yawned, closing the book and shoving it further in on the deck. In one graceful swoop, she pushed herself out of the lake and onto the deck, not a hair out of place in her long coiled curls. I couldn’t help but hope that I looked as good as she did when I was a few hundred years old as well. “Hurry up, though. You know Nain won’t start unless we’re all at the table, and I would kill for some of her potatoes right now.”

    “I know,” I sighed, kicking off my slippers. I hated swimming in my normal clothes, but if I went back inside without Adyna, I’d be on the receiving end of Nain’s withering stare, and it just wasn’t worth it. I hopped off of the deck, dropping into the peaceful water feet first, my entry nothing like Adyna’s graceful dives.


    Underwater, my language was far more musical, a distant cousin to our siren sisters in the sea though none less deadly when imbued with magic. My twin sister didn’t respond, but that was fine–I knew her favorite part of the lake anyway. At this point, I was certain there was anything about each other that we didn’t already know. No secrets, no surprises.

    So I swam on past the shallows of the lake to a further point, thankful at least that our lake was large enough–and public enough–that she at least wouldn’t stray too far from our house for fear of being noticed. There was a part of our lake that was deeper than the rest of it–a trench of sorts, though I wasn’t sure if it was naturally occurring or cut out by magic from one of our aunts or cousins. My eyes adjusted to the light as I went further down, the warmth from the sun fading with the colors as I went closer to my sister’s grotto.

    At the bottom of the trench, my identical twin Adyna Valdis sat, her posture perfect and legs crossed like a pretzel. Her hair was fanned around her in a mane, or maybe a halo of sorts, her eyes closed though I knew she could feel my approach.

    Down here, she looked like the kind of being who could house the soul of the reborn demigoddess that my family had spent centuries watching for.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone with whom I can commiserate about the misery which is trying to revise a novel, who appreciates good puns and can temper their criticism with enough gifs that I don’t hate myself more than usual? Or maybe someone who’s in this for the same long haul of seriousness that I am–I want to see my name on a book someday, so I’d love a CP who also wants to suffer with me through queries, rejections, and all that jazz. I promise that for whatever you have to deal with through my strange quirkiness, I’ll make up for it in the fact that I teach English for a living and am used to leaving detailed and kind/encouraging/but-still-useful comments on writing. 🙂

    CONTACT INFO: You can contact me via e-mail at, or via Twitter @AvalynnLewis. Playing certain songs on repeat very loudly also has a chance of summoning me, but it’s not as quick as using the first two listed methods.


  35. NAME- Hi I’m Cassidy


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc)- Paranormal/Fantasy

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines)- All Brendon Solum has ever wanted was to keep his little sister safe, but when new priorities enter his life, he and his sister aren’t the only ones in danger.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)-

    Nobody lived forever.

    I could hear the steady beat of my feet touching the ground as I moved forward in the room. The moon created small streaks of light that peeked through the half covered window and made faint little lines that laid motionless on the floor. I opened a door with blue mist escaping from the inside.

    I touched the knife, sitting not so patiently in my satchel, and watched the soul start to clutter around the bag.

    No matter how different they claimed to be, the smell of a human’s soul was the one thing that they all had in common. Additionally, it was one of many things they were left without once I left.

    The wooden door let out an exaggerated creak when I shut it behind me. I leaned my back against it, putting as much distance between me and the victim as possible, and drew the long knife from the satchel hanging at my side. I used my thumb to rub the soul keeper symbol on the hilt. The blade radiated light blue in the darkness, making the red walls look more maroon. Tendrils of a similarly colored, pulsing mist hung from the knife. The loose bits of soul fell to the ground in a steep incline. My eyes followed the tendrils to its source, the man that slept only a few feet from me.

    As the blue tint started to be taken into the knife, the fog began to thin. An undeniable desire settled in the pit of my stomach, stemming from the hungry knife resting in my hand. I swallowed back the feeling, putting off the moment for as long as possible. It was the last victim of the night. I wasn’t in a rush.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP- Someone who can help me better my story, particularly the romantic parts and making characters more distinct/likeable. I also want some who’ll help me better my own critiques because I’m fairly new to it. If we continue being CPs I’d ideally want big picture feedback and I’d work best by only sending a few chapters at a time.

    CONTACT INFO- Instagram- theterribleutopia you might find me on Twiiter- BookishRetreat but I’m more active on Instagram


  36. NAME: Brian


    GENREs: Mystery. Contemporary. Historical fantasy

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Two murders shock Luxly Academy, a school made punch-drunk by wealth and privilege. At the scene of the first, juniors Stori Jacobs and Sawyer Adams discover an overlooked clue: a work of literature as haunting as it is gorgeous. It’s a sonnet and a cipher, layering long-whispered but little-known insights into Renaissance and Classical lit – and peeling back a conspiracy that stretches from Prague to the Potomac. Using this clue, the teens battle bitches, bullets & imminent expulsion as they decode a murderous conspiracy.


    I’ll be dead in two minutes, three minutes tops. My last year of high school, over before it truly begins. I’ve never actually stepped foot in a cemetery, but I envision my headstone:

    Mariska Milton
    Dec. 22, 2007 – Oct. 17, 2025
    Senior. Homecoming Queen. Tragic AF.

    I can’t scream. I can only manage a hideous gurgle as I grab my throat and run. I run toward the hum of a floor buffer. Maybe a custodian will find me. Or a teacher staying late. I round the corner into the low light of the History Hallway. My shoulder bangs against the corner of a bank of cobalt lockers. I feel no pain, though, just a creeping numbness.

    My neck throbs. Blood pulses beneath my hand. Thoughts slip from my mind like sand through infant fingers. My legs slow to an unsteady stagger. I scan the hallway for help. No one. Sight dims and blurs. Whether it’s from blood loss or tears, I have no idea. But as the realization of my death sets in, I know I have to make my fate known.

    I keep a slow, wobbly gait as I trek the corridor and open the top stairwell door. Red heel-prints and blood splatters trail my every step. Blood pours out of a half-foot slash that dives from my windpipe to my collarbone. I half-stagger, half-tumble down the stairs. By the bottom step, the top half of my royal blue dress is drenched a shade darker. The tiara that once crowned my sandy-blonde hair has slipped off, I think. Everything’s slipping. My feet, my grip, my mind.

    I collapse as I lunge for the outside stairwell door. I pull the handle. Crimson smears polished silver. I open the door to the tribal percussion of the high school’s band. Cheers become incantations. Sounds pulse, then fade, mocking the rhythm of my heart. The announcer proclaims yet another Luxly Lions touchdown. I spill outside and slink down against the building’s side wall. A fiery pile of leaves crunches beneath me. My throne will be my deathbed.

    This would be my first CP. I’m at the stage where I’m querying one YA mystery manuscript and getting lots of interest and requests that ultimately turn into personal/constructive “no thank-you’s.” So I figure I need help to push me further. In the meantime, I’m starting another WIP in a new genre (historic fantasy). So I’m looking mainly for (in this order):

    1. A person to help with character development (spotting how/why readers can or can’t connect with protagonists)
    2. General encouragement/boosting/sharing the journey to eventual and mutual success
    3. Brainstorming
    4. Spotting any plot holes.

    STRENGTHS: I was a newspaper editor for almost a decade, so I know grammar/syntax. … I’m a teacher, so I do have some insight into how (YA) kids think.

    CONTACT INFO: Message me on Twitter @Learnaftreading


  37. NAME: Robyn

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB) MG mostly, although I have two YA partials

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc) mostly realistic fiction

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines) My current WIP is about two kids who discover an exotic bird smuggling ring in small town central North Dakota.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)
    Seventh grade ended with a bang

    In fact that’s the exact sound that happened when the lights went out.


    Of course, the bang happened because a metal folding chair fell over. My metal folding chair. The one I had been sitting in while I waited for Nurse Dight to come back to her office. It fell over because I had been leaning forward in it, trying to see around the corner into the hallway and I had tipped it onto its two front legs. It smacked the chair next to it when it fell, which made another bang. And I might have made it bang a third time when I tried to kick it off me.

    Bert heard it all. She was heading back to our classroom after walking me down to the nurse’s office. She also heard me yell, which was why she came back, even though that was the opposite of what she was suppose to do.

    “This is only a hall pass,” Mrs. Hallowell had said when she handed Bert the little plastic dinosaur that said Hallowell on one side. “Not a stay in the nurse’s office with Josh pass.” Bert already knew that, of course, because Mrs. Hallowell said that every time.

    This time, though, Linea Anderson had to be standing right there, and she just had to say, “Oh, whatever will Josh do without her?” in that voice she has, that just digs right under my skin.
    It would have really bothered me, except that I was trying not to die right there, under the big wall poster of prepositional phrases.

    I’d almost managed to get things under control, but then the lights went out. It’s pretty hard to convince yourself that the world is going to be okay when you’re all alone in the dark. By the time Bert got back to me I was crouched on the floor with my hat pulled all the way down over my face, breathing in yarn fuzz like my life depended on it.

    I am looking for:
    1) someone I can bounce ideas off of and brainstorm with
    2) someone who will help me find/fix plot holes
    3) someone who is willing to read through horrid drafts and help me find the nuggets
    4) someone I can do the same for

    twitter @RobynArend


  38. NAME: Sophia V.

    AGES: MG and YA

    GENRES: Contemporary and Fantasy

    GENRE OF PROJECT: Historical Fantasy


    After getting split into two different versions of herself and murdering her former crush, new witch Carolina must go on the run, leaving her Other self to take over her old life. Before she is found out, she must find a way to pull herself together–literally.


    The Other Carolina strode into the parlor, her hands clasped loosely in front of her, her walk easy but deliberate.

    “Oh, god!” cried Midea, standing halfway, before a look from her husband sat her back down. “What happened to you?” she crowed, her eyes all over the Other Carolina’s ruined dress, her mud-smeared face.

    “Please!” Carolina said, holding up her hands in supplication. “There’s no need to worry.”

    She scanned their expressions, wide-eyed and expectant, her aunt’s a thin show of concern over a deep pit of judgement.

    They aren’t afraid of me, she thought, the other part of her mind on the dried blood she had scrubbed off her wrists minutes before.

    She suppressed a smile. They have no idea.

    “William was taken ill during a stroll on the grounds,” she said, ignoring Lord Byron as he took a few decisive steps in her direction, his dark brows drawn in worry. “I slipped as I tried to assist him,” she continued, gesturing to her clothes. “But one of the servants helped me.”

    Silently, the Spinner slipped into the room and gave a small curtsy. The four adults barely looked at over at it, completely missing as its hair fractured to dark brown before returning to red. The Other Carolina had to suppress a smile again.


    “Then I must check on him at once–” Lord Byron said, staring over the Other Carolina’s shoulder at the hall beyond.

    The Other Carolina stepped in front of him, holing up a pale hand. “Oh, Lord Byron, please don’t worry. He requested to be left alone to recover; he’s embarrassed, you see–” she gave a girlish giggle. “To have been taken ill in front of me.”

    The adults looked pleased at this; the Other Carolina saw her aunt exchange a secret look with her uncle, her greed unbidden.

    “I’ll check on him later,” she said to Lord Byron, lowering her voice, letting a bashful smile slide across her face. “I’ll be…happy to do it.”

    Lord Byron visibly relaxed. Midea smiled at the Other Carolina, her face lovely in the lamplight.

    “Thank you so much, Carolina, for looking after our boy.”

    The Other Carolina smiled. “Lena,” she said. “Call me Lena.”


    I’m midway through drafting now, so chapter-by-chapter critiques are preferred. Definitely looking for more big picture/consistency/characterization stuff than grammar.

    CONTACT: vac.sophia (@) gmail (dot) com


  39. NAME: Kate Hall


    GENRE: I write mostly contemporary fantasy, but I dabble in Epic Fantasy and SF.

    PROJECT PITCH: Sarah wants nothing more than to finish school and take over the farm her parents ran before their untimely death, but when she’s moved to a wealthy foster home in St. Louis, hours away from her hometown in central Missouri, everything changes. She discovers a dragon egg, is enrolled in St. Merlin’s, a private school for the magically talented (or super wealthy), and has to avoid a dark figure from her past.

    Growing up in a rural town, Sarah has seen hundreds of videos explaining what to do if she sees or hears a wild dragon. Living in the midwest, she’s always had to be cautious in case of a dragon attack, however rare they may be. The inhuman scream is just like the sound bytes she’s heard in the safety of a classroom – metal twisting and groaning through her head, all the animals in the summer woods burrowing or flying or quivering with fear.
    The week after her parents died, she had to watch one of those videos, and the sounds, so close to the sound of a car crash, had her covering her ears, unable to scream as she envisioned the semi plowing into the front of their pickup, the crushed metal echoing the dragon’s call. She was sent out of the room to the counselor’s office for the first of many incidents that year.
    Now, alone in the forest, she can’t help but freeze. This sound is worse than any informational video can describe. This scream is all-encompassing, echoing through the trees and causing any flying animals to take to the sky, and for those who can’t fly to burrow deep into the warm, dark earth. She covers her ears, but the sound isn’t just through the air: it’s in her mind. The creature screams again and again, but she begins to realize that the cries are not a warning; the dragon is calling for help.
    She doesn’t know how she knows. She doesn’t understand why she’s the one the scream is meant for. Something terrible is happening, something so horrific that it’s making a wild dragon, the ultimate predator, call out in pain. She collapses to her knees, the sound digging into her eardrums like knives, and once it’s punctured them, it digs deep into her mind. Her brain is going to melt out of her skull, her eyesight dotted with spots of white.

    WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone to help me with structure and plot, possibly characterization. Everything I write has queer characters, with maybe a couple of non-queer characters sprinkled in. I want someone who is willing to talk about books a lot, and I enjoy exchanging work as I go when it comes to new projects. I find constructive criticism to be more productive than “brutal honesty.”



  40. NAME Kayla


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc) SF/F, though this novel is speculative

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines) Dreaming always means death in this twisted f/f take on Orpheus and Eurydice set amidst a dark future, which pairs the speculative elements of THE WICKER KING by Kayla Ancrum with the emotional realism of Nina Labour’s WE ARE OKAY.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)

    Home existed on the map beneath the painted bee’s wings, which Camryn memorized every year as a distraction. The framed artwork used to calm her, but now she couldn’t contain her anxiety. She sat on the cool metal table with four pristine walls of the clinic around her; waiting. All week she’d worried about what would happen next.
    One needle.
    One dose.
    Once every year.
    The past few days, Camryn counted those facts from one to three on her fingers. She hoped the practice would settle her nerves. The last time she searched trypanophobia, the results provided breathing exercises, and suggested focusing on a word or phrase to subdue her fear of the needle. She focused on three: the word, and occasionally, the number. Counting consumed her uncertainty most days.
    But not today.
    Everything gleamed like the tip of the needle within the white-walled room; too clean and perfect and permeated with the pungent smell of antiseptic.
    “One. Two. Three. Two. One.” Her grandmother said the words in her head. The memory of the voice couldn’t soothe Camryn because it made her think of Gram before she’d gotten sick, and it took a knock outside the door to silence the thought.
    “Rowell,” Camryn said. Her voice shook.
    The orderly offered a smile on the way into the room, a few steps behind the doctor and Camryn’s mom.
    Camryn took three deep breaths, and tried to smile.
    “Are we ready?” Dr. Rambert asked. He was supposed to administer the injection, but he smelled like spearmint. He corrupted her calm.
    She wanted Rowell.
    “Please, Rowell?” Camryn asked. She tried to keep her voice steady, but the thought of the needle shook her. She focused on the painting of the honey bee, but remembered reading about how they died after stinging.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’d love to discover a long-term relationship with critique partners who are encouraging, but fierce!. As a graduate of an MFA program, I miss helping other writers as much as I, myself, am seeking help. I tend to give both big and small picture feedback with line edits and an editorial letter as well!

    email: or DM @KaylaMKing on Twitter


  41. NAME

    YA and A

    Sci-fi, fantasy, contemporary, and historical/biographical fiction

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines)
    When Jaya Mill, an agent aboard a counter-terrorism frigate in the year 2559, is sent to investigate a lead, she discovers a cloning facility where someone is bringing back the most vicious extinct monsters of the galaxy. As she and her team attempt to bring this shadowy figure down, Jaya discovers a link to her own past that she has been anxious to keep hidden.

    In a small corner of the galaxy, not remote but where darkness was the norm and daylight rarely touched, Lieutenant Commander Jaya Mill crouched behind the cold metal of a control panel. The memory of particle beam fire still thrummed in her ears and tainted the air. It tasted bitter in her mouth.
    Her team was safe, at least. But Jaya knew how tenuous and fragile that status was, especially on a mission that had gone south as fast as this one had. She could already feel the other forces regrouping, closing in. They were still pinned down in the Combat Information Center of the ship they had boarded not an hour before, and at any moment they would hear the drum beat of boots on the steel floors and the high whine of particle beam rifles.
    “We’ve got to move now,” she said, the communications link in her helmet sending her words privately to the implanted earpieces of each member of her team. Outside, there was still silence.
    She felt the uncomfortable tickle of sweat on her neck, and her legs ached, bent under her to keep her head below cover. She didn’t tell them why she felt they should move now, when it seemed in this moment of quiet that they had all the time in the world to complete their objective and get to the rendezvous point. This knowledge defied rationalization, and she knew she would fail if she tried to explain her decisions to her team in words, but they had followed her into enough danger and back out again to trust the orders she gave. Good instincts, Captain Armstrong called it. But Jaya didn’t think it was just instincts.

    Someone who will poke at all the holes and help me see how my characters and world are coming across. I’m looking for someone who will both help me find problems in the story logic and also will tell me where the emotional connections are strongest and weakest. I am glad to do the same in return!



  42. NAME:


    My current WIP is Low Fantasy. It includes elements of fantasy set in our modern world.

    A righteous, but reckless girl stops an assault on a young boy, only to set a course of domino effects changing the lives of everyone around her and possibly the world. While she investigates a manipulative organization, dodges the overprotective men in her family, and faces a cunning degenerate, she learns the chess match is much bigger than she expected, the prize is too much for one person, and Duplicity is the name of the game.

    “Oh, no. No, we are not going in there. Nope. Not happening,” Eve announced, then rifled through her bag.
    “We can’t just leave. They could be doing God’s-knows-what in there,” I argued, though the situation didn’t dwell well with me either. I had planned to catch them before they disappeared into a dark, secluded area.
    I pulled my untamable dark hair in a bun, though a few pieces escaped, and contemplated my next move; the most rational scenario would be to leave and not do anything, but God, himself, couldn’t pull me away if he wanted to; I could wait for Cas to join us and we could investigate together, though he’d cuff me if he found me out here like this; or Eve and I could enter the empty forest at night and alone to take care of things ourselves.
    “You don’t know even know if they’re doing anything bad, Adi. They could just be hanging out or chilling or whatever guys do when they’re alone. Not everyone has sinister motives,” Eve said, whipping her phone out.
    “Yes, of course, you’re right. I’m sure Felix and his friends went into the forest to save Bambi and dance with squirrels. That’s obviously why they went into a dark and secluded area. Come on, Eve. It’s Felix we’re talking about. You’re not that naïve,” I countered.
    She scrolled through her phone.
    “You don’t know-“ she started, but a shrill cry interrupted.
    We both faced the forest, the source of the wail.
    Crickets followed and distant screams from the festival reached us as I strained my ears. Eve and I glanced at each other. Unease filled her eyes. Adrenaline filled mine.
    That sounded sinister.

    I’m still on the first Draft of my WIP, but I’m close to reaching the end, but there’s still a lot plot/character/pacing flaws that needs to be revised. I’m not interested in grammar/spelling yet, but I would like brainstorm ideas together. As a CP, I always look into tight plots, strong pacing, and complex character development.

    CONTACT: or DM me @royalreaderd on twitter!


  43. NAME: Kassia

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB): Mainly Young Adult/New Adult

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Urban Fantasy, Contemporary, Paranormal, Mystery

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): She’s moving back home. A year abroad is long enough, but she can’t seem to distance herself from the guilt and loss. He’s been on a lonely quest for closure. Regrettably, their worlds connect in too many ways. And as they stumble upon a new one, they find themselves trapped in the middle of an unforgiving war.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page): [the ending portion of my 1st chapter] No matter how hard she’d squeeze her eyes shut, she couldn’t fall back asleep. To be productive, she pulled out the boxes to be unpacked. Scanning the permanent marker labels, she paused when her eyes landed on one “Family Memories.” She backed away from it, knowing how dangerous it was.
    It was her Pandora’s Box. Never to be opened.
    So, she tossed it aside, moving on to kitchen supplies. Those wouldn’t release a can of emotions. Spoons and forks go in the drawers, colanders go into the bottom cabinets, pans –
    “Where do the knives go?”
    A gasp escaped her lips, and she almost fell over. Instead, her hand reached into the box, grabbing the heaviest pan she could wield. Elena stood tall, holding the pan Tangled-style.
    The same stranger from the plane was standing in her apartment, casually waiting for a reply. “You haven’t gotten to those yet, huh?”
    Adrenaline pumped through her small frame, and Elena peered at him through the dark lighting of the low-rise kitchen. His sharp nose cast shadows on his hollowed cheeks until he stepped under a flickering ceiling light.
    “Don’t be afraid.”
    Elena blinked. “I’m dreaming. You’re here because of the horror movie.”
    She had thought she was awake. But maybe her sleep-deprived brain created even more vivid nightmares than usual.
    “No, I’m real. See?” He held out his large palm for Elena to feel. When she recoiled from him, he rubbed the nape of his neck.
    “Get out of my apartment.” Her voice wavered.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: I’m looking for someone to help me out with structural edits (plotting, consistency, characterizations, story/character/relationship developments, world-building). Pretty much the basics. I’m in the 2nd round of revisions and looking for a 2nd opinion on things I’m doubtful about.

    CONTACT INFO: feel free to shoot me an email at!


  44. NAME: Stef


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): Fantasy, contemporary (if I can ever figure out how to plot without battles and politics).

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Her family ripped apart by war, a blade of Aquarian steel in her hand, Kai has dedicated her whole life to one thing: Revenge. Brendan is a prince by birth, but an adventurer at heart. He would like nothing more than to leave, she nothing more than to stay, but war is coming and neither of them have a choice.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    No matter how many years passed, the sea remembered the ones she claimed as her own.

    Or at least it seemed that way to Kai as she swam the last few miles toward the sea mounts that marked the eastern border of Aquaria. Crystal clear water, warm despite the onset of autumn in the world above, surrounded her, and as a curious turtle swam by, it felt like the best kind of welcome. After nearly a year on land, surrounded by crowded streets and pungent smoke and the ceaseless crash of noise against her, she was back where she belonged.

    “You are late.” Warm arms slid around Kai’s shoulders. “I was starting to think I would have to come drag you home myself.”

    With a flick of her tail, Kai came face to face with Nikora. A year her junior, Nikora was her closest friend–and her vainest. As usual, his copper curls were tousled just so and his eyes shone gold in the sunlight filtering down from the surface. Those eyes could look gold or copper or black as a starless night, depending on his mood. Coupled with his hair and his rich brown skin, it made him look like a living flame. A strange thing for a merman, but Kai had never been able to see him as anything but fire, bright and crackling with life.

    “Do you know how hard it is to get close to a band of mercenaries? In Natangar?” Kai coughed, her voice rough from months of disuse. “Anyone with a blade in their hand can get hired for a job, but gaining enough access in an established band to gut their funds and their reputation? It’s hard, bloody work.” She swished her tail fins over the seafloor, stirring up sand and silt. Although she had worn legs in Natangar, had killed and walked through rivers of blood on human legs, her scales felt coated in it.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone who is in it for the long haul. I love writing, and I want to become a published author one day. It would be great to work with someone who has similar goals. I’m also currently writing a series, and I would really like someone to fall in love with these characters and this world as much as I have and help me do the best I can to tell the best story I can. I want to do the same for someone else, too, whether it is for a series or stand-alones.

    CONTACT INFO: thedemonkingawakes (@) gmail (dot) com


  45. NAME Lucy

    AGE CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN I would say either YA or A


    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines) 16-year-old Evelyn finds herself protecting Raif (13) and his sister Rose (6) after their village, Little Haven, is attacked by a powerful organisation known as The Commune who seek children with abilities to train and control. Unbeknownst to them, in escaping the attack, the children have placed themselves in danger and are pursued by The Commune’s agents. Rescued by an opposing group (Veritas) who seek to overturn The Commune’s power over king and country, they believe they are safe; but Evelyn finds herself wondering whether one group might be as bad as the other in seeking to control the lives of children and their abilities.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page)
    **Book opens with a prologue. You later find out that this boy becomes the main antagonist, an agent of The Commune, Lord Torrant**

    The boy was afraid.

    He wasn’t sure how long he had been kept in this damp, dark place. In time, he had learned that escape was impossible. There were whispers of horrific punishments for any who tried. Each night, as he stared longingly at the dark sky through the small window high in his cell, the guards came and silently locked the cell doors, one by one.

    When he closed his eyes, he thought of home. Although he had lost count of the days, weeks or months that he had been here, the memories remained clear. There had been decadence, food, servants. He could still smell the manor kitchen, servants constantly bustling around and preparing the next meal for the family; he could still feel the practice swords colliding as he and his brother, Ythan, trained in the courtyard. He had gone hunting with Ythan too, learning how to shoot a bow and arrow, although his brother, older and stronger, had always been the one to bring down their prey. His parents, often absent on affairs of state, had kept their distance even when home, believing too much attachment to be unhealthy for their children. However, he remembered that he had loved his brother dearly.

    He had learned quickly not to make friends with any of the other children in this place. Eventually they would be taken away like so many before them. He kept his head down, did as he was told, obediently returned to his cell when his work was done.

    Until, one day, they had sent for him.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP Someone interested in the same genre and long-term critiquing. I’m about 1/3 of the way through the first draft of the first book of what I anticipate will be a series. I’ve never done this before but hoping I’ll find someone with whom to build a valuable relationship 🙂

    CONTACT INFO Please feel free to email me – – yes, that really is my email!


  46. Name: Brianna

    Age Category: children or Y/A

    Project Pitch: Basically it is a Nutcracker-like story which happens in the old west. A girl from modern times is taken to old west times on a train where she meets a cowboy, an Indian, a jack-a-lope and more.

    Short Blurb:
    Dora Black stared nervously out of the airplane window at the landing strip approaching rapidly below. She was not afraid of heights. She was not homesick, even though she was indeed far from her home in northern Maine. And very obviously to her at that. She pushed her light brown hair out of her bright blue eyes to see her destination better. In spite of what she’d heard, she hadn’t expected Texas to be so dusty and dry.
    Dora’s great-grandmother was a resident of this barren-looking state which Dora was sure she would despise. She thought back to that fateful day when her mother had announced that great-granny was turning eighty-five in a week. Dora had acted impressed and observed dutifully that she would be turning eighteen in a week as well.
    “I’m glad that you find this exciting, dear,” her mother had said eagerly, “because I think you should spend a week or two together.”
    Mrs. Black’s startled daughter didn’t hear a word after ‘a week or two together.’ She had only seen her great-grandmother about five times in her entire life. She was quick to remind her mother of this.
    That argument was promptly squashed with Mrs. Black’s reply. “Your grandma Dora is a very lonely woman. Remember how you were named after her? I would love to visit her more only neither of us has very much money. But with my bonus this year…”
    “So why don’t you go and visit her? I’m old enough to stay on my own. Besides, I’m sure she would love to see you more than me.”
    “I have work that won’t wait. Plus I want the two of you to spend some time together before, well… who knows how long she’ll live past eighty-five? And she really is a lot of fun. You’d be surprised.” Dora’s mother smiled sadly and looked down. “I would dearly love to see her again,” she sighed.
    Not wanting to seem ungrateful or frustrated, Dora had acted excited about it until she found her seat on the airplane. She buckled her seatbelt then pulled out her journal to write all of the jitters away. It seemed to work for a little while, maybe five minutes after she closed the book.
    This is the account of the adventure she would never have expected to have. This is how she would have written it had she never closed her journal.

    What I’m looking for in a CP: I am a writer of Christian and moral fantasy and poetry. I would like someone to critique who is a Christian as well and therefore understand my POV morally. I would not be a good match for someone who writes horror or erotic romances.

    Contact Info:


  47. NAME Harley

    AGE 16 CATEGORY(IES) YOU WRITE IN (YA/MG/A/PB) I do YA but I’m open to almost anything. 😀

    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc) I do a mix of genres. I do SF fantasy Slice of life romance, all in all, it just depends on what inspiration I have. I also am an inspiring manga writer, but I also write chapter books.

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines)
    At the age of 15, Accalia Starling is going through the most difficult time of her life. Being in an unfamiliar world. She copes with losses and runs away from every problem only to find herself wanting to be at peace. She settles in a house outside the town in the country with her 2 friends, Pinky and Monty. Deciding to be social, Accalia joins a guild called Silver Star and makes new friends. She tries to hide her past away from her friends but to her avail, people she knows comes for her to take her power or life. (I’m still putting stuff together if any of you wants to help me fix my character structure and background that would be nice!)

    SHORT BLURB (this is my manga layout its not much because im still fixing things)
    [clock rings]
    [Accalia hits snooze]
    [clock rings again]
    Accalia: Ughh! [throws clock across room] CLING!
    Monty: Shh i’m sleeping.
    {Accalia rolls eyes}
    Accalia: *sniff* *sniff* ~eew I need a shower~
    [grabs clothes and heads to the shower]
    [accalia turns shower on]
    *shwump shwump shwump*
    [opens shower door and gets in]
    Accalia: *Sighs* [closes eyes] -Flash- [big bright wave of light explodes] MOM! -Flash- [accalia opens eyes] *gasps* *coughs* [tear falls] [turns to face water and splashes water in face] hmm. [turns off water gets out and dries off] *nock* *nock*
    Pinky: Yo acca! Is everything ok in there?
    Accalia: *laughs* Hahahaha yea I just seen a spider.
    Pinky: WHAT! DID U KILL IT!
    Accalia: Yes it drowned.
    Pinky: ok good.
    Accalia: *sighs* [gets out] OK! Guys since we just moved in here after traveling a lot, why don’t we go do some shopping in town.
    Monty: Sure! But if we walk it takes like almost an hour so could you fly us there?
    Accalia: I would but I just took a shower so my wings are useless.
    Pinky: Man if only your wings were like a duck. Your feathers wouldn’t face this torture.
    Accalia: Hey I can only carry so much weight before my wings cramp up. And water really takes a toll on me. I can only lift myself at least 8 inches off the ground when they’re wet.
    Pinky: Well that sucks.
    Accalia: Yea.
    Monty: Well is there any other possible way of transportation?
    Pinky: Oh! Acca you still have transport data right?
    Accalia: Yea?
    Pinky: There is this website or app that have people that come to your house and take you to your desired destination!
    Accalia: All right whats it called?
    Pinky: Its called Telly.
    Accalia: ok?
    [accalia outside locking door]
    Accalia: Huh wow this is cool. Thanks pinky!
    Pinky: Any time!
    Accalia: So whe-[throbbing pain in head] aahaahaa! [puts hands to head and bends down in pain]
    Monty/Pinky: ACCA!
    Pinky: Acca are u ok?
    Accalia: I-its nothing for you guys to worry about. It’s just a headache that’s all.[gets up]
    Monty: hey acca.
    Accalia: yea?
    Monty: your nose is bleeding.
    Accalia: [touches nose] Oh so it is. [reaches in bag and grabs napkin] that should help it stop.
    Pinky: Are you sure everything is alright?
    Accalia: Yes everything is ok.
    Pinky: Do you need any meds?
    Accalia: No I tried all of them and not a single one helps. I even tried taking a full bottle of pain relief and it still didn’t help.
    Monty: guys.
    Monty: Guys!
    Pinky: NO YOUR NO-
    Monty: [enlarges] GUYS SHUT UP AND GET IN THE CAR!
    Accalia/Pinky: yes sir. *gulp*

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP I want honest opinions but also encouraging and inspirative, I need someone that could also help me with character development throughout the story and also give me tough/deep questions about the story and characters. I have more stories too but I’m mainly just working on this one. XD So please help me XD Thanks.


  48. NAME: Sophia


    GENRE(S) YOU WRITE IN (SF, Fantasy, Contemporary, Horror, etc): SciFi and Magical realism

    PROJECT PITCH (1-3 lines): Lost Lake Lodge is a place for the ‘Wanted’: People in the world who have something unexplainable going on- a girl with gills, a boy who can only speak in other people’s dreams- and have to hide away because of it.

    SHORT BLURB (250-300 words. We suggest your opening page):

    Everything was on fire.
    “This again?”
    Jonah looked over to see a blond boy sitting atop a smoking dresser. An old portrait on the wall crashed down, covered in flames. Somehow, it disappeared before hitting him.
    “We have to go!” Jonah said.
    “We’ll be fine,” they boy assured him. That felt untrue, but it also felt sensible. Jonah squeezed his eyes open and shut and tried to understand something he felt he should already know. “You’re taking AP English all too much to heart.”
    “What?” Footsteps sounded outside the door and then, Jonah and the blond boy were outside, an old Victorian house burning before their eyes.
    “Won’t your parents miss you?” The boy asked.
    Jonah said, “No,” then he said “What?” because he didn’t understand what the boy was talking about. But he sort of did.
    The boy nodded.
    Jonah was sure he’d seen him before. Blond hair. Blond like the color of a sunflower. Jonah tried to look at more of the boy’s appearance, but he wasn’t remembering the things he was looking at. Had they run out of a different burning building together?
    “Daemon says you’re coming to stay with us,” the boy said. “I’ve been wondering why you wanted to.”
    “Oh, you know,” Jonah said. He actually didn’t know. He was beginning to suspect this was a dream. The boy nodded again, his sunflower hair was almost long enough to cover his eyes. This was definitely a dream.
    “You should wake up now.”
    The flaming house turned into smoke. The smoke turned into a horse. And then Jonah woke up, Pennsylvania countryside flying by out the window of the train.

    WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IN A CP: Someone who is good at explaining why something doesn’t work for them (or why it does). I love questions! Let me know what you’re confused about. Honestly, anyone that is willing to genuinely engage in the story! I hope to do the same for you!



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