Writing | 1-Page Synopsis for "Chainbreaker"
Introduction
I'm a bit of a perfectionist.
Okay, I'm entirely a perfectionist. I have a hard time putting my stamp on my own work. It has
This mindset made it difficult to publish How I Ruined My Life and it has made it difficult to start pitching Chainbreaker despite the numerous rounds of editing that I have completed for the novel. Chainbreaker has been rewritten and edited more times than I can count--more than any other project I've pursued. Positive feedback from friends doesn't seem to matter to me; there is always something else that I need to fix.
Tomorrow, I'm going to take the first step toward overcoming that. It isn't a very direct step--I'm not pitching directly to any agents, at this time. Instead, I'll be participating in a Twitter event called #PitMad. With #PitMad, writers post a brief tweet about their book and select literary agents respond to the tweets if they are interested. Then, agents will serve as mentors for selected writers, helping with the perfection process for both the manuscript and its pitch. I'm not going into this with high expectations--being noticed on Twitter would require being a more active user of the medium, and I'm more of an Instagram fellow--but I do expect that participating will help me be more active with my novel. It's time to stop babying it and start pushing it out of the nest once and for all.
So, to get that ball rolling, I'm posting my one-line pitch and the first page of the story right here on my website. I considered posting the synopsis, but it obviously contains significant spoilers and should only be sent to agents who might consider the book, not posted on my website where it may be stumbled upon accidentally.
1-Line Pitch
As the aftermath of a failed rebellion against an ableist empire unfolds, the battle for the survival of what few humans still live intensifies.
First Page
Black smoke from the capital city spilled into the rebel encampment, pushed there by a strong gust of wind from the nearby ocean. Helmet-less, poorly-armored soldiers of the Falcon Rebellion coughed heavily as Edward pushed past them, his own helmet protecting him from breathing in too much of the smoke. He glanced up, trying to see the distant capital city. Smog distorted his view, but he could still see the walls and pillars of fire if he squinted to focus his vision. Edward wiped his visor and kept moving, mercenaries in tow.
Tents shuddered as increasingly strong winds threatened to pull their stakes from the ground and send them tumbling away from the campground. Overhead, a flag was pulling away from its post, which was vibrating so fiercely that the rebel emblem its flag was meant to display—a golden falcon stretching its talons toward unseen prey—was distorted and unrecognizable. Soldiers who were standing guard outside of the tents were repeatedly bombarded with clouds of dust that the wind threw into their eyes. The guards who were walking with Edward—mercenaries Edward had hired, not rebel soldiers—shielded their eyes before they could be hit by a particularly large cloud, then continued to press onward after their client.
No one bothered to ask where Edward was leading the men with such determination. Soldiers would just nod to him as he passed by, assuming they could actually see him through the dust and smoke. The only time Edward’s movement was halted was when he reached his destination: a medical tent. Outside of the tent stood two soldiers and a general. The latter individual was distinguished from the other two by the armor he wore: bright-blue metal from head to toe and a helmet featuring a gold-tinted visor. It was similar to the armor that Edward was wearing, though the colors were reversed. Armor of that quality was reserved exclusively for the highest-ranking individuals in the Falcon Rebellion: generals and those who sat on the Talon Council, as Edward did. On the breastplate of each man was the same falcon emblem displayed on the flags throughout the camp. The general’s emblem was gold instead of blue, keeping with the reversed color schemes of their attire.
Apart from the color reversal, their outfits were quite similar. There was one key difference, though: Edward wore a blue cloak that was pinned at his left shoulder. The pin resembled a falcon’s eye and had been brushed with the same golden color as the rest of Edward’s armor. Anyone who knew anything at all about the Falcon Rebellion was aware of what that pin represented.
The general, being someone who recognized the pin on Edward's shoulder, hastily pulled off his own helmet and saluted before addressing Edward. The soldiers who stood on either side of the general saluted as well, but they were more quick to do so since they had no helmets to remove. Once the general’s face was visible, Edward recognized him. “Lord Eye,” General Bolte greeted, “how may I assist you?”
“Let me through,” answered Edward impatiently.
Sean Bolte glanced over his shoulder at the medical tent and turned back to Edward. The general began to respond, but his words were drowned out by a sudden and intense gust of wind. Once the din brought about by the powerful winds died down, he tried speaking again. “This is the tent which has been set aside for the Lord Scapular’s wife. She’s just had the child and no one is to enter.”
“I figured this was Donna’s tent, given that they’ve elected a general to guard it,” Edward stated, “That’s why I approached this one; I’m looking for the Lord Falcon’s wife.”
“Why would you—”
“He sent me!” Edward snapped, exasperated. “Tobias has requested that I check on the health of the child and report to him back in the field. Step aside so that I may fulfill his request.”
Sean’s eyes narrowed slightly and his posture tightened. “Milord, the child
“Surely you understand that he would exclude me from that instruction!” Edward snorted. “I’m a member of the Talon Council!”
“I have given you the status of the child,” the general declared, “so you may now leave.”
The general’s soldiers seemed to notice that their leader was growing tense, as they stiffened and looked expectantly toward General Bolte. In response, the mercenaries behind Edward looked at one another and grinned, excited at the prospect of a fight.
Conclusion
I hope you're at least half as excited for what lies ahead when it comes to Chainbreaker; I know I can't wait to finally take a deep breath and get serious about pushing this book out there while ensuring it's as excellent as it can possibly be. This book has come a long way since the