Lynk Manuscript Assessment Service
Manuscripts ready for agenting and publishing
Hot on the heels of our recent successes, a number of outstanding manuscripts have crossed our desk over the last few months. We have worked closely and intensively with these authors to add the finishing touches to their manuscripts, and are now delighted to showcase them here.
Lynk welcomes expressions of interest from publishers and agents concerning the following works.
Thank you for your interest.LITERARY FICTION FOR ADULT READERS
CROSSOVER LITERARY/POPULAR FICTION FOR ADULT READERS
YOUNG ADULT FICTION
FICTION FOR CHILD READERS
CHILDREN'S PICTURE BOOKS
LITERARY FICTION FOR ADULT READERS
Title: Deliria
Genre: Literary/comic love story
Market/s: Educated readers of both genders aged c. 18–45
Word count: c. 63,000 words.
Synopsis
Meet William. He’s twenty-two. He’s highly intelligent. He’s an acerbic critic of Australian suburban life. And he’s lost.
Chafing against his rural-Aussie guns-and-ammo background, William sees a university career in Thailand as his intellectual salvation, but just can’t seem to get it together. Then his life accelerates dramatically when he bumps into a childhood friend, Deliria, now a scorchingly attractive eighteen-year-old Music student who has a secret: she’s a compulsive shoplifter. He’s completely smitten. She already has an obsession; suddenly he’s got one, too. Physically outclassed and intimidated, he tries to win her by a continuous display of intellectual peacockery, by aiding and abetting her in a succession of minor thefts, and by saving her life whenever possible. Is it going to work? Will he win his fair lady true, or will her increasingly desperate addiction see them both hauled in by the long arm of the law, their innocence forever sullied?
While he is a-wooing, William, in exalted poetic tropes, gives voice to his romantic (read ‘salacious’) yearnings, using motifs from the poetry of the twelfth-century troubadours to sing his maiden’s praises. In these delirious visions, prosaic suburban landscapes are rendered magical by the power of his desire: bog-ordinary streets, nature strips and front lawns are transformed, almost re-invented, as his libido drives him to ever-more ridiculous lyrical extremes. This troubadour for the twenty-first century can’t behold a supermarket carpark without celebrating at length the majestic hills beyond. The fabled ‘pathetic fallacy’ has never looked quite so pathetic …
But there’s more to William than poetry and hopeless love. There’s also social commentary. He turns his refined gaze from a preposterous casino to a smug beach suburb, from an ever-accumulating pile of junk mail to a semi-literate local newspaper, evoking Adelaide’s provincial self-importance with withering humour and a sniper’s precision.
Overflowing with the riotous immediacy of desire, the novel is a comic-serious exploration of an educated young man’s quest to find his way in the world. A love song to Deliria, Thailand and twelfth-century French poetry, it demonstrates how literary cultivation, savoir faire, bravery, sexual obsession, moral laxity and complete stupidity can exist in the one person.
Lynk comment
Deliria is a clever and touching first-person narrative. Impressively, this work of literary fiction manages to be sardonic and moving, cerebral and funny at the same time. It is immensely enjoyable to read.
William, our narrator and protagonist, is a fascinating and engaging portrait of the coming-of-age of a certain type of Australian male: well-educated, exuding a hefty cultural cringe, looking for a place in society and a focus for his hopeless romanticism, trying to have sex, indulging in minor criminality, and attempting to deal with crushing existential boredom. As he muses on life and love, his litany of contradictions becomes apparent: an intellectual snob, he is completely ‘up himself’, yet terribly insecure; he knows so much, yet has done so little; he is very aware of life’s possibilities (in his own fantasising way), yet he has availed himself of so few of them. He is, slowly but surely, going crazy with frustration. And then he meets Deliria …
These layers to William’s personality are interesting and amusing, such as when he describes his ‘average’ looks, then ends with the self-judgment of ‘An interesting guy’. Yet nothing in his previous musings justifies this closing comment. This is good writing: he can be honest only to a point, then his ego kicks in and adds a layer of self-image to the inadequate reality.
The essence of any first-person narrative lies in the personality of the narrator, which is largely revealed through the quirks and nuances of his/her voice. William’s voice is a wonderful creation – it is pitch-perfect for the effect the author is after here. William is smug in his intellectual superiority. He feels like a big fish in a small, very provincial pond that he loathes; he’s what his brother, Kev, might call ‘a wanker’, yet he seems to not care.
Ultimately, the reader can’t help but like William, mainly because his intellectual posturing and sense of alienation from life around him is depicted with such engaging acerbic humour and sarcasm. He is totally in Deliria’s thrall – he is indeed delirious. Hopelessly in love, hopefully in lust, he is a courtly love poet for the 21st century.
At a time when readers are increasingly used to breathlessly paced, action-packed creative works in most artistic forms, Deliria works in quite a different way. Rather than relying on thrills and spills to create and sustain reader engagement, the quality of the prose is what hooks the reader, as the author conjures distinctive and appealing moods and atmospheres to great effect.
Such is the depiction of the empty streets and windy hills of contemporary Adelaide that they feel like actual characters in the story. This is, in fact, a withering yet sentimental portrait of the crushing ennui of a provincial, self-important city, and these contrasting emotions perfectly match William’s worldview. The result is a powerful sense of integrity, and unity between the novel’s internal and external worlds, which is effectively sustained throughout the story.
The post-modern, ironic application of the famed literary conceit of the pathetic fallacy – whereby the natural world directly reflects the mood of the protagonist at any particular moment – is very entertaining to read each time it occurs in the narrative. William manages to establish a kind of knowingness with the reader, along the lines of: ‘Now that Deliria only has eyes for Theseus, I feel terrible’, then he goes for a walk, and sure enough, nature is troubled – in uproar even. In less accomplished hands, this could feel quite clumsy and formulaic, but this author’s touch is sure, and the self-conscious element that this introduces to the novel only gives the text another level for readers to enjoy.
Furthermore, the richness of the images evoked in these pathetic-fallacy passages – their robustness, their detail, their immediate visual clarity – had me looking forward to the next such passage.
In a nutshell, Deliria is for readers who love words and language, who can find the heart of a story in the richness of its prose as much as in its characters and plotting.
Title: Love’s Been Good to Me
Genre: Contemporary surrealist adventure
Market/s: male and female readers c. 20–50 years
Word count: c. 69,000 words.
Synopsis
One morning Michael Culpepper wakes up in his own bed, alone and wearing his Peter Alexander pyjamas, unsure of how he got there. Then a phone rings somewhere off in the house. It’s only 7 a.m., for god’s sake! Upon investigation, some fellow Michael’s never seen before is standing in his designer kitchen, offering him a cup of his own exquisite brew of coffee. Liberties have been taken, but Michael accepts, and he’s soon glad he did. This guy claims to be Australian, but he has an indeterminate accent, like those people who travel too much and speak too many languages. Overachievers … And then he introduces Michael to a fully-grown black panther, whose accent is definitely Oxbridge.
Michael is left alone with Allan the talking panther, and soon starts to truly appreciate his manners, and his Weltschmerz. But as much as Michael is loving the company, he has to go to work. While Michael is shaving and dressing, Allan converses with Michael’s cat, Louis, and when Michael emerges from the bathroom – looking dapper and ready for the day – Allan has some disturbing news to convey. While Michael was asleep, some men came and took a girl away. Okay, thinks Michael, so there was a girl here. Well, of course, what’s not to love … But he can’t remember who she was. It could have been Emily Roman, the famous popstar he interviewed recently. We did get on rather well, he recalls with a smile. But why would men come and … Allan then adds that when those men came, the scent of blood was heavy in the air.
Already greatly inconvenienced – this is, after all, a challenging start to his day – Michael must now confront mysterious danger, with only Allan and his own compromised memory to assist him. He must find the girl before he finds himself in even more trouble – and before those men come for him, too …
Lynk comment
Love’s Been Good To Me is a contemporary surrealist adventure aimed at male and female readers aged c. 20–50 years. It will especially appeal to readers of Haruki Murakami, Bret Easton Ellis and DBC Pierre. Generation X and Y readers, in particular, will identify strongly with the protagonist as he is forced to undertake a mysterious adventure.
The writing style is similar to that of DBC Pierre’s Ludmila’s Broken English, Bret Easton Ellis’s Lunar Park, and selected stories from Michel Faber’s The Fahrenheit Twins. The deadpan humour with which the main character expresses his inner thoughts is reminiscent of cult television programs such as Curb Your Enthusiasm and Peep Show. But the subtext here is quite philosophical – dealing with issues involving relationships, loss, loneliness and self-discovery – so Love’s Been Good To Me will also appeal to more sophisticated readers, and thus a broader market.
The author is now working on the second volume of a three-part series featuring Michael Culpepper, his unforgettable protagonist.
CROSSOVER LITERARY/POPULAR FICTION FOR ADULT READERS
Title: The Jet Wolf
Genre: Supernatural thriller
Market/s: Adult / Young Adult
Word count: c. 89,000 words.
Synopsis
Southern England, 1936. George Haye is a thirty-year-old History don at St Matthew’s College, Allminster. His days are filled with books, pints at the local pub with friends, and the sports at which he excels. He is very satisfied to have risen to this privileged position in society – and to this most comfortable lifestyle.
Then Detective Sergeant Aage Nielsen – a mysterious local policeman of Danish origin – has him translate two eighth-century Anglo-Saxon documents from Latin. One of them describes a wolf carved from jet stone, and the description precisely matches that of a precious artefact just stolen from St Matthew’s.
Almost immediately, George’s carefully ordered life begins to unravel. After witnessing a fatal knifing, in which the killer seemed possessed of unnatural strength, he is pursued across the city by a murderous policeman, and barely escapes with his life. Now scared and unable to trust anyone, George goes into hiding. He senses that these bizarre events are connected to the medieval documents he is translating for Aage Nielsen. These documents are a series of letters to and from a chivalrous yet battle-hardened soldier-turned-monk called Ohthere, who is ordered to lead a mission from his English monastery to convert the savage heathen tribes residing deep within the vast forests of Germania. Venturing beyond the edge of the known world, Ohthere and his men encounter villagers maddened by fear. Ambushed by a force of supernaturally strong opponents, Ohthere and a mere handful of his companions survive.
These letters also, it seems, concern the stolen wolf.
But what of this wolf? Isn’t it just an old carving in jet?
George refuses point blank to help Nielsen any further until the situation is explained. Reluctantly, Nielsen reveals that something terrible will happen if the wolf isn’t recovered. He doesn’t know exactly when or how this catastrophe will occur, but believes these answers lie in the other medieval documents he has in his possession, which George now races to decipher. They reveal that Ohthere and his remaining men, now weakened and far beyond the reach of help, must face a mysterious king of unrivalled power and evil.
George struggles to fathom the meaning of all this, unaware that his fate is inextricably linked to Ohthere’s.
Meanwhile, Nielsen has a lead: Father Walter Roby, a Catholic priest and the son of the man George saw stabbed. The two men collect Fr Roby and drive to a monastery in the soft, dark hills of Wales, where a friend of Roby’s has agreed to help them. But just as the men are shown an old, sealed box hidden in the nearby woods, they are set upon by dozens of demonic monks whose strength is superhuman. Fatally wounded, Nielsen dies just after telling George he has only until midnight the next day to find the wolf.
George, now terrified, escapes with the sealed box and reads its contents, which reveal the apocalyptic truth about everything he has witnessed: the king that Ohthere has encountered is gathering his forces for an invasion that will engulf the world in darkness. Sensing what this means here and now, George must find the wolf, but – hunted by the police, alone, broke, and hundreds of miles from home – what chance does he have? His only hope is to get back to Allminster and reach out to someone who, he fears, still hates him: his intelligent, unfathomable ex-girlfriend, Dr Deborah Caraman.
Desperate to find the wolf, they face frightening odds. They are challenging something extraordinarily powerful, something unspeakably evil. And they have been betrayed …
Lynk comment
The Jet Wolf is a gripping supernatural horror story that will appeal to adult and young adult readers alike. It will attract readers whose taste runs to Elizabeth Kostova’s The Historian, The Vampire Chronicles of Anne Rice, and William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist. With strong male and female protagonists, and a story set largely in an English university campus in the 1930s, The Jet Wolf should appeal to educated readers of both sexes. The medieval sections of the story will interest readers of The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, Pillars of the Earth and World’s End by Ken Follett.
The author employs a dual narrative approach – both of them in the first person – in the novel, which works very well. The main narrative, told by History don George Haye, is set amidst English ivory towers in the 1930s – a clever choice of setting, because among the educated classes of England, from the late 19th century onwards, there arose a strong interest in the occult (eg. Aleister Crowley). In addition, a campus (and town) that dates back to the 13th century is the ideal milieu for resurrecting medieval practices. England in the 1930s is also familiar ground to more literate readers – I’m thinking of the Bloomsbury movement, Brideshead Revisited, and so on.
Moreover, the author is very good with the period details of the 1930s – the blackout kit, remnant gas lighting, period cars, hats, Woodbines, and so on.
The other narrative strand unfolds mainly in 8th-century Germania (and briefly in England) through the persona of Ohthere, a soldier-turned-monk. This is also an extremely impressive piece of storytelling – at least as accomplished as the main narrative. Its content is always interesting, chiefly because it is full of human drama and conflict; and because Ohthere’s voice (a key element here) feels wholly authentic, and is always engaging. The author truly has a gift for depicting the medieval period, and especially for doing so in a strong, clear and virtuous voice like Ohthere’s. This is outstanding writing.
The reader will find it rewarding to notice the extent to which George and Ohthere are parallel protagonists. They have much in common: both are moral men who are fighting evil in the world, and the fight requires both to undertake fearsome journeys; both are excellent fighters; both fights involve rivers; both men are from lowly origins (Ohthere having been a soldier, and George having done some social climbing upon entering Allminster Uni); both are ‘separated’ (in different ways) from their beloved; and both believe in the innate goodness of the men around them – and, indeed, of all men, even the possessed souls. The similarity between them is particularly sharp in some passages, such as when Ohthere’s solitary despair clearly echoes George’s (from a few pages earlier). This is an excellent dynamic to have working in the novel, and the author pulls it off with great subtlety, which only adds to its impressiveness.
The author’s character depiction is also very effective: each feels authentic, speaks with a distinct and consistent voice, and contributes to the work’s verisimilitude – which is particularly important when working with a supernatural theme.
A slight aside: I was intrigued by the demonic nature of Nammon and his hordes. They seem to be a kind of proto-vampire in so far as they drink blood (but lack the teeth to pierce the neck and suck it out), they have superhuman strength, they can sleep for months, they share a common ‘psyche’ (ie. they react as one), they are indestructible (unless the correct religious approach is used), and they can’t stand consecrated bread. And they scare the bejesus out of the reader! Moreover, when this proto-vampire persona is transposed into the 1930s, the possessed men are truly frightening – especially before we know what’s happening to them.
Overall, I am confident that The Jet Wolf will be a celebrated addition to its perennially popular genre, and will – as such – attract a sizeable and satisfied readership.
Title: Harvey Shmidlap Seeks the Perfect Cheesecake
Genre: Humorous fiction
Market/s: Literary, Popular, Jewish
Word count: c. 100,000 words.
Synopsis
Distilled from Polish peasant stock, Harvey Shmidlap wasn’t born so great; and living off the family’s salami business, the only greatness he’s destined for is in terms of his belt size. But the one pie the gourmand and marketing guru doesn’t eat is humble, and he has a half-baked plan to make his family famous: after the Eponymous Food Organisation – the international body responsible for naming foods – tastes his mother’s cheesecake, the name Shmidlap will forever be on everyone’s lips.
There are, however, problems. Not only has his mother, Lusha, stubbornly refused to bake a cheesecake for ten years, she won’t even tell her only child the recipe, insisting that she can only divulge it to a daughter. To help butter her up, Harvey tries to enlist the aid of his wife, Marla, and son, Justin. But Marla, who is a vet, is more interested in furry animals than a human who just eats like one; and uni student Justin hates everything Harvey stands for.
Not that Harvey stands very often. Most of the time he can be found sitting in Helga’s cake shop doing his research – that is, eating cake. But cakes have ears, and not only does Helga get wind of Harvey’s mother’s cheesecake, but vainglorious gluttons from around the globe soon want a slice of the pie. One man in particular will stop at nothing to get his hands on Mrs Shmidlap’s eponymous cake – in fact, he’s even prepared to get his hands on Mrs Shmidlap …
Lynk comment
This is a novel full of imagination, ingenuity and linguistic pyrotechnics. It is quite an astonishing read, unlike anything I have seen in quite some time. It seems to spring, wholly formed, from its own almost parallel universe; it certainly inhabits a cultural milieu that is very distinctive and very, very different to that of most contemporary fiction.
The author habitually satirises his characters and his third-person narrator. The former happens constantly, while the latter is rare but effective. Most of the characters usually talk to each other with irony, and the narrator takes a similar approach towards them. This defines the tone of the novel, and it works extremely well.
There is a sense of barely contained anarchy here – a feeling that, with a bit of a push, or with someone saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, the entire house of cards could collapse. I mean this in terms of the characters’ lives as well as the writing itself. Of course, this is an illusion, for it is often the characters’ many gripes about each other that create this irony, which in turn creates the language of their world and of the manuscript.
This novel has two great assets: it is a very entertaining family saga that is at once a comic epic and a contribution to both migrant literature in Australia and to the literature of the Jewish diaspora; and it is a wondrous and original rendering of the English – and often Yiddish – language. (Please note that the manuscript includes a glossary of all foreign terms used.)
Title: Boris and his Mysterious Death
Genre: Humorous/satirical mystery fiction
Market/s: Adult (esp. male) commercial
Word count: c. 91,000 words.
Synopsis
Boris’s life suffers a hiccup of morbid proportions when he is found dead, wedged head-first in a wombat burrow. Although a perfectly respectable way to die, something about Boris’s bloated corpse doesn’t add up. Not that it stays bloated for long, though – shortly after being discovered by Mungbunga’s inept volunteer rescue crew, the corpse is accidentally catapulted into a nearby wood-chipper. Boris is reduced to the consistency of a thickshake – a strawberry thickshake, to be exact – but his funeral must go on.
Boris’s remains are ceremoniously poured into a glass-topped coffin so that mourners can pay their last respects. His wife, Jude, is hoping for a quiet affair, but she hasn’t taken into account Boris’s colourful past and the characters from it – both invited and uninvited – who cross the world to say goodbye. There’s the rotund head of an adult film studio, an edgy, hairy-moled Chinese diplomat, an amorous muleteer, and Boris’s monstrous dog, Gooselplep, to name just a few.
Clearly, Boris has lived an extraordinary life. Through a series of touching flashbacks, we see how, due to a twist of fate, he grows up in Aladistan, a small, landlocked country in Western Asia populated mainly by mules and goats. After leading a revolutionary movement, then becoming a charismatic adult film star, he travels to Mungbunga, Australia, to re-establish a connection with his estranged mother.
But Boris is too late. His mother, who hasn’t spoken to him since accidentally renting the film When you Bleat, I Groan – featuring some of her son’s best work – has passed away. Nevertheless, Boris decides to settle in Mungbunga, marries Jude, and inherits a very special mother-in-law, Helga. The family is complete with the arrival of Gooselplep, a rare breed of large and unpredictable amphibious dog thought to be extinct.
The longer the funeral goes on, the more implausible Boris’s death seems – as his disbelieving mourners tell each other, if anyone is nigh-on indestructible, it’s Boris. His last ‘project’ was to invent a new form of manufactured meat, a breakthrough combination of eel and goat called oglee. Is there a connection between oglee and that grisly accident with the wood-chipper? And why is a crustaceous old man from Aladistan making unnatural advances towards the coffin?
Lynk comment
In terms of similar titles, Boris’s zany inventiveness is reminiscent of Molvania: A Land Untouched by Modern Dentistry by Santo Cilauro, Tom Gleisner and Rob Sitch (2004) and its two companion titles; and with A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian by Marina Lewycka (2005). It also has elements in common with the work of John Irving, Tom Holt and Robert Rankin. Boris inhabits a world that is disturbingly ‘Borat-esque’.
This work of humorous mystery is a genuine tour de farce, but there’s nothing farcical about its clever overriding narrative device. Boris’s funeral serves as the set piece that the narrative keeps returning to and progressing from, interspersed with sections from the various strands of Boris’s astonishing life. Not only does the funeral create a (necessary) thread that links the overall trajectory of the story, it also links the many episodes from Boris’s life, by having representatives from each episode present at the funeral. This further allows the author to link jokes from these episodes. The overall effect of this approach is that it brings everything together in the reader’s mind very smoothly indeed.
And of course, funerals readily lend themselves to humour: the author uses the occasion to great comic effect, which rises in intensity as the plot evolves.
Another impressive feature of the manuscript is its narrative tone, which is a sharp demonstration of deadpan humour, quite dry and laconic in places, that rarely labours the joke (or anything else). And while the author does not let the story get in the way of a good joke, nor does he sacrifice any of the story’s integrity on the altar of humour.
Similarly, the characterisation process at work in the novel is very effective. In a humorous work like this, the characters are as much a source of the humour as the events of the plot are. The author is fully aware of this, and gets great mileage from his cast of characters – in particular Rex Harlop, a livestock auctioneer who enthusiastically applies the skills he has honed in the cattle-yard to his role as master of ceremonies at the funeral; Ivan Schlongovsky, the corpulent head of an adult film studio; Boris’s mother-in-law, Helga, an ex-East German swimmer with a body hair problem; Iqbain Iqbainah, Boris’s diminutive, hygiene-challenged former boxing trainer; and, of course, Boris himself. The characters also have original and distinctive voices, which they remain true to.
In a nutshell, here is an emerging author of remarkable comic talent, matched with an impressive grasp of the techniques of storytelling. We are watching his development with great interest.
YOUNG ADULT FICTION –
FANTASY, MEDIEVAL, SCIENCE FICTION & GRAPHIC SHORT STORY
Title: The Quest for the Sparkling Man
Genre: Fantasy
Market/s: Young adult / Adult
Word count: c. 73,000 words.
Synopsis
The story centres on a sensitive boy from a poor background living in a wealthy town in a beautiful part of New Zealand, overlooked by a ruined castle. Jacob Mariot has only one friend, the tubby outcast, Ben Mellor, and his main consolation is in reading books like The Hobbit and losing himself in his rich fantasy life. Jacob’s life is transformed by the arrival of Luthien, a beautiful girl with flame-coloured hair. She has recently arrived from London to live in an old mansion with her aristocratic mother. Despite the eager attention of all of her rich, popular classmates, Luthien feels magnetically drawn to Jacob, and suddenly his life is filled with the magic of her warm presence and her imagination – which, for once, matches his own.
Jacob’s idyllic life is shattered when his father dies from pneumonia after rescuing him and Luthien from a snowstorm. Tragedy follows tragedy as his mother succumbs to overwork, and Luthien, too, dies in a mysterious accident. Jacob’s much older brother is a successful psychiatrist living in London; he takes Jacob to that city, which Luthien had once described for Jacob as being full of colour and wonder. In the face of his tragedies, however, Jacob finds it all grey. He has forgotten all of the magical experiences and fantasies he had with Luthien, and merely survives as one of the walking wounded.
Jacob has grown into a haunted young man working in a call centre when a mysterious phone call triggers a chain of events that leads him back to the world of magic. He discovers that the magic land of his and Luthien’s fantasies is real, and that he and Luthien each has a counterpart there: a magical ‘faery’ twin soul. But this realm, too, is threatened by the same dark forces that stole Luthien from Jacob.
Luthien is not dead, however, but lying comatose in a hidden location. Jacob must find and rescue her from the dark forces that threaten two worlds, aided by his friends from the land of faerie and his childhood companion, Ben Mellor, now a detective.
But these brave and honourable men have no idea who or what they are dealing with …
Lynk comment
While thisis primarily a fantasy novel for young adults, its literary bent and humour might also appeal to an older market, as is the case with Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. However, the author’s use of language is more emotional, poetic and descriptive than Haddon’s, as befits a story that involves fairies, princes and castles.
The author’s writing is very accomplished indeed: while conjuring magical atmospheres and some glorious images, he manages to achieve a balance between popular and literary styles. And, crucially, he never loses sight of his young adult readership.
This is a fairy tale and, as such, it depicts creatures that are synonymous with that genre. But the nature of Minaea – the name of the fairy world in the story – is quite unique. The most similar ‘worlds’ to it in the annals of fiction are Peter Pan’s Neverland, Alice’s Wonderland, and the eponymous galaxy in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
The Quest for the Sparkling Man also shares some common ground with – and some points of distinction from – the twin peaks of fantasy: Rowling and Tolkien. Its plot has echoes of Harry Potter in that it features parallel worlds, one familiar to humans, the other full of magic. But unlike the Harry Potter books, most of the story in Quest … is set in our own world, with the characters envisioning that there is another, magical world of stunning sensual beauty just around the corner – if only they can find it. So while Harry Potter fans will enjoy the close relationship our world has with the fantasy world, Quest … also posits the additional, inspirational theme that a person’s ability to imagine is itself magical.
In terms of Tolkien there are occasional references to ‘Middle-earth’ in Quest …, and Jonathan’s writing has some strong Tolkienesque elements, especially a lyrical celebration of the delirious beauty of the other world.
However, an important counterpoint to the beauty of the fantasy world here is that his story is, in parts, much grittier than either Tolkien’s or Rowling’s work. This is in order to underline the primary theme of The Quest for the Sparkling Man: that while experience inevitably affects the way we perceive our world, no matter how hard life might get, there is always hope. Such a thematic affirmation of the ability to triumph over adversity is a powerful and very appropriate message for young adult readers.
Title: Oric – The Battle for Bayersby Manor
Genre: Medieval adventure novel
Market/s: Males and female readers c. 12–15 years old
Word count: c. 68,000 words.
Synopsis
North Yorkshire, England, medieval times.
Dawn breaks. A band of marauders plunder the small village of Dunburton and torch most of the dwellings. A fourteen-year-old servant boy, Oric, returns home from an early morning foraging expedition to find the inhabitants of the manor dead or dying. Deveril, the alchemist, Oric’s friend and mentor, is prostrate on the floor in the great hall.
He gives Oric a key with a double knot engraved on its shaft. “This key unlocks the secret to great wealth. You must promise to keep it safe. If it falls into evil hands, untold disasters could occur.”
Sick with fear, Oric grasps the key. “I promise, Master Deveril. But I am confused. What kind of disaster? And where is the wealth you speak of?”
The old man fails to reply – he has drawn his final breath.
Esica Figg, moneylender and villain, is hiding behind a wall tapestry and hears every word the alchemist says. Flames suddenly engulf the manor, and Oric runs for his life. Figg gives chase, intending to kill the boy and seize the key, but Oric has disappeared.
After two days of wandering, Oric stumbles upon Bayersby Manor, home of Sir Edred and Lady Myferny. Exhausted and hungry, he is confronted by Ichtheus, the wise and kindly Bayersby apothecary. The old man takes Oric in and gives him food. When Ichtheus learns that Oric can read and write, he offers the boy an apprenticeship.
Oric soon acquires the skills of healing. His growing reputation incurs the jealousy of the spoilt fifteen-year-old Bayersby heir, Guwain, and the arrival of a pretty, young kitchen maid, Dian, sees the boys vie for her affections. While Oric and Dian become firm friends, despite his awkwardness around her, both sense a stronger connection between them.
Oric’s determination to find Deveril’s treasure takes him on many frightening adventures. He rides down a well in a bucket, explores an underground tunnel and its secret passageways and, while investigating a hovel on the moors, narrowly escapes death at the hands of kidnappers. He is helped, but more often hindered, by Sir Edred’s comical wolfhound, Parzifal.
Not satisfied with the ample wealth his moneylending business provides, Esica Figg wants Bayersby Manor for himself. In order to raise funds for a mercenary army to seize the manor, Figg orders his band of brigands to steal from all and sundry. Numerous townsfolk suffer at their hands, including Oric and Ichtheus, before deciding enough is enough. The townsfolk take up arms and, in a thrilling set piece, do battle with Figg’s men. Both sides suffer heavy casualties, but Figg escapes to fight another day. Oric saves Sir Edred’s life, and is rewarded with a plot of land and a piece of silver.
Nostalgia leads Oric back to his former home where, in the ruins of Dunburton Manor, he unearths an iron chest with a double knot emblazoned upon the lid. But his delight is short-lived – the chest has been broken into, and now contains only a small quantity of black powder. Puzzled, Oric wonders what the substance might be. Suddenly it feels like the quest for Deveril’s treasure has become even more dangerous …
Lynk comment
Oric, The Battle for Bayersby Manor is a very accomplished novel for young adults. There is a smoothness to the flow of the prose that makes for an enjoyable reading experience, regardless of age. Combined with this, a broad spectrum of strong and well-drawn characters, and especially an excellent plot will keep young-adult readers right in the thick of the intrigue until the very last line.
The story moves along at a lively pace, and while there is plenty of incident – something is always happening to engage the interest – things never feel rushed. There is a very effective modulation between faster and slower scenes, which is what good storytelling is all about.
The narrative is ably assisted by its intricate plot, which is perhaps the most impressive aspect of the manuscript. Right from the opening page, we are immersed in a very different world (yet made familiar through the characters and their relationships), and we accompany Oric on his varied adventures as he tries to uncover the mystery of the bequeathed key – and performs many good deeds in the process. The plot features numerous spicy ingredients: boy suddenly and tragically alone in the world, boy finds a new home and master, boy meets girl, boy acquires healing powers and gets a proper foothold in the world. To counter-balance Oric’s endearing journey, there is no shortage of nasty villains lurking in the shadows and the forests, plotting the demise of all who stand in their way. There is also a strong animal presence in the story – chiefly in the form of a cat, a dog and a donkey – as befits a time when man and beast lived in close proximity.
The lead-up to the ultimate battle at the Keep is excellent, as is that climactic set piece itself. And the ending is very satisfying: the villains are thwarted in their devious plans; Oric has risen in the world and has proved his valour yet again; and all is well with Ichtheus and Dian. In short, the good are rewarded; the bad suffer. The ‘moral’ here is sound – violence, theft and nastiness don’t pay – and is reinforced by the contrasting trajectories of Oric and Guwain, who is to the manor born: the former, in his virtue, grows both in himself and in society; while the latter, in his vice, does a disservice to both his elevated position and his family. These twists in the plot inspire strong themes that are most appropriate for the envisaged readership: growing up/coming of age, adventure, emerging adolescent love, the importance of living virtuously, courage and honour in word and deed, and the value of a warm mentoring relationship.
And leaving things open-ended on the last page, with the arch-villain living to scheme again, is entirely as it should be. Readers will be eager for Book Two.
The story also taps a rich vein in terms of its apothecary theme: what’s old is new again (in the sense that many people use such herbal remedies today), so this is a topical element in the manuscript. Readers are likely to respond to this, too, in terms of it being a source of wonder in nature.
The characterisation at work in the story is also very effective. New characters are introduced at good intervals, so we’re never overwhelmed by questions of ‘who’s who’. The core trio of Oric, Ichtheus and Dian are all very strong presences. The two adolescents are good models for boy and girl readers to identify with (and perhaps to feel a bit attracted to); and Ichtheus is a very likeable, appealing character: the older man, wise yet funny in his ways, generous of heart and fair of mind. He’s a bit like the familiar figure of the wise magician; and while Ichtheus does work some magic of sorts, the fact that he does not have supernatural powers only adds to his humanity.
Moreover, the very engaging dynamic between Oric and Dian is a joy to read, and is sure to appeal to readers of similar ages.
The author’s use of language is another real strength of the manuscript – the period terminology and the precision of the naming of everyday objects brings the medieval world vividly to life. Readers will be introduced to some (but not too many) new words, which is appropriate for young adults, who should be learning some new terms when they read a book. To assist with these terms, there is a brief Glossary at the end of the manuscript.
In a nutshell, the author displays a thorough understanding of both the world her story is set in, and the mind-set and concerns of her envisaged readers. Oric deserves a wide audience, and is sure to engage those lucky enough to experience it.
Title: The Song of Siori
Genre: ‘Graphic short story’
Market/s: Young adults and adults.
Word count: c. 8,600 words.
Synopsis
Captain Hiromi is an experienced seaman, having headed a Japanese fishing fleet for many years. Now, in middle age, he has accepted the offer of leading a whaling expedition – his first.
Izumi is a whale that has, for many years, migrated between the chilly Antarctic Ocean in summer and tropical waters in winter. Now, in the prime of adulthood, she is with child – her first.
Hiromi is a man of many parts. He is a product of his culture, which has for centuries hunted whales for their flesh and their blubber. Conversely, he has been raised in the Buddhist tradition, and has learnt to respect all beings as part of the intricate web of life that sustains everything. He is also a man of heightened sensitivity, as a result of quite recently losing his wife to illness and of now being at sea, separated from his young daughter, who is very precious to him.
When Hiromi witnesses his first whale kill, he is appalled – this is not at all like the fishing techniques he is used to. During the quiet times on the ship, he emails some old friends from the West, who he studied with as a young man. He updates them about his life – his tragic loss, his new job. While expressing sympathy for his loss, his friends don’t agree with his career move – they both oppose whale-killing. This leads Hiromi to recall his own disgust at the kill he saw, and to begin to question this cultural practice and his role in it.
While these events have been unfolding, Izumi has given birth to a healthy calf called Siori, a playful and mischevious young female. Izumi teaches Siori the ways of the ocean, and the bond of love between mother and child grows ever stronger.
As the hunt goes on, Hiromi has a surprising encounter with Siori, and feels the stirring of something new in himself. Feeling confused, he misses his daughter terribly; email contact with his old friends has been good, but in his vulnerability he needs someone close, to hold and to love. So when, the next day, he again encounters Siori – this time with Izumi – and finds them both in great danger, he feels he should act. But that would mean jeopardising his and his daughter’s future financial security …
The Song of Siori addresses an emotive contemporary conservation issue in a timeless manner. It is, first and foremost, a story, whose themes – of a parent’s love for a child, the love for nature, loss and grief, cultural perspectives and sensitivities, the protection of species, the interconnectedness of life – interweave with great delicacy and lyricism to tell a tale this is at once simple and very profound. It shows us that redemption is possible when we, like Hiromi, learn to ‘see with new eyes’; when we allow ourselves to feel at one with the natural world – a world that comprises all life.
Lynk comment
The marketing strength of The Song of Siori lies in its treatment of a prominent and emotive contemporary environmental issue: whale killing. The issue of commercial whaling, is, it will be seen in the story, analogous to all environmental issues because it reflects our understanding of how we belong in the world. As such, it has broad potential in the field of educational publishing (notwithstanding the challenge of getting a text approved by a State Board of Studies). English, Biology, Society and Culture, and/or Geography activities could be devised and published with the story as a package. For this reason, it would make an ideal book for emerging adults, as it will stimulate discussion about ethical and personal issues as well as helping to develop in the young reader an awareness of the importance of cultural sensitivity when dealing with transnational matters.
There is now an established international trend in picture books (‘graphic novels’) such as The Song of Siori, whose theme centres on a profound experience of universal value. Such publications, which appeal to all ages, include The Peasant Prince by Li Cunxin, The Arrival by Shaun Tan, Angela by Frank McCourt, The Watertower by Garry Crew, From Slave Ship to Freedom Road by Julius Lester, The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, and Crazy Horse’s Vision by Joseph Bruchac.
Title: Sol Incursion
Genre: Science fiction
Market/s: Young adult + adult.
Word count: c. 156,000 words.
Synopsis
In the year 2476, the human home-system, Sol, is invaded by a race of aliens known as Quash. The aliens’ first act in the system is to destroy Jupiter’s moon, Europa, wiping out half of the humans’ military force in the process.
In desperation, the governments of Earth and its ally, Mars, draft civilians to supplement the crippled armed forces. One of these civilian draftees, Orion Mailar, finds himself thrust into the midst of an interplanetary war. By his side are fellow recruits Shara, ‘Ox’, and a few others, under the command of the leader of the Earth star-navy, Executive Admiral Teves.
Echlor, the ruthless and clever commander of the Quash fleet, is burdened with the task of cleaning up his leaders’ incomplete first strike. Baiting the humans, he expects to be able to deal with the primitive race easily, but soon learns there is much more to humanity than he had expected.
As war rages – both in space and on the frozen moon, Callisto – Orion and Shara are paraded as propaganda tools for the government. They are pressured to perform ever-greater feats in battle, which leads to Orion being captured during a disastrous loss to the Quash.
Waking up aboard a Quash ship, Orion manages to break free, and soon discovers the Quash’s ultimate objective: they are capturing humans and swapping bodies with them, to compensate for the physical failings of their own species. Horrified, he manages to escape from the ship, destroying it in the process. He returns to Earth and is informed by Admiral Teves that Shara – whom Orion has grown very close to – was aboard the vessel he has just destroyed. Guilt-ridden and devastated, Orion embarks on a dangerous bout of self-destruction.
After some costly miscalculations of his own, Echlor is called before his leaders. Despite knowing that he possesses the sharpest mind of all Quash, they threaten him with death if he does not deliver a swift and decisive victory.
Having vowed to kill Echlor himself, Admiral Teves struggles to formulate an effective military strategy. But a potential solution comes to light when, after his recovery, Orion proposes a quick and simple method of destroying the Quash ships. It just might work …
During the final climactic space battle, Orion infiltrates a Quash cruiser, only to be captured and summarily body-swapped. He then barely avoids execution by a Quash who is now in Shara’s body.
Through a near-suicidal attack, Admiral Teves finally kills Echlor. Orion’s plan has worked! The war is over, but both fleets are left in tatters. And despite having lost his human form, Orion manages to escape the Quash. He returns to Earth, but he is no longer a man …
Lynk comment
Sol Incursion is a space opera/military science-fiction novel aimed chiefly at male readers aged c. 16–25. It will appeal to those who have enjoyed works such as the Revelation Space series by Alastair Reynolds, Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein, the Mass Effect books by Drew Karpyshyn, and the Star Wars series of novels.
While the tone of the story is predominantly serious, given its strong military plot-line, there is also a humorous thread running through it. The humour pertains mainly to the protagonist, Orion, a young recruit who’s as cocky as they come, despite often being well out of his depth. The target market will readily relate to Orion’s youthful bravado, his disrespect for authority, his romantic interest in Shara (a female recruit) and his tremendous courage in battle.
Sol Incursion is intended to primarily entertain. Written in a very accessible style, its sustained action, fast pace and cast of engaging characters will keep readers hooked throughout the story’s twists and turns. Given its strong commercial appeal, it also has the potential to interest young and emerging adults who are occasional readers.
Title: The Dream Watcher
Market/s: Boy & girl readers aged c. 8–12 years.
Word count: c. 43,000 words.
Synopsis
As the last surviving member of his family, old Henry Wilburbuckle has a battle on his hands when the shifty mayor, Dudwik Snodgrass, tries to evict him from his run-down but charming hilltop house so that a new TV antenna tower can be built on the site. All seems lost until Lolita, a large and beautiful bird, emerges from the nearby forest with a secret gift.
Lolita is a dream watcher. She picks up ‘dream waves’, much like TV waves, from the TV antenna upon Henry’s hill. What’s more, she has the power to make dreams come true – including the one the Henry’s father had sixty years ago, which turned their house into a wreck. At times Lolita has trouble understanding just what it is that humans want.
When Henry wakes up as his eleven-year-old self one morning, he is mysteriously drawn into the forest. There he discovers a clan of characters born out of the imaginations of sleeping children. Lolita and these ‘dreamers’ soon whisk Henry off on an adventure in the Underground, which is in fact a ‘journey of reversal’ through the Forgotten Zone – a disused mine shaft beneath the forest floor, seemingly abandoned since its deadly collapse one hundred years ago.
With ‘Dudwik the nit’ in tow, each of the dreamers must conquer a goggleye (a series of huge and terrifying ghost eyeballs of the dead miners) if they are to make it the whole way through the Forgotten Zone and return home in human form. If they do so, they will save not only themselves, but also the lost dreamers – those mysterious beings who have been trapped in the Underground for sixty whole years. But if just one of Henry’s team doesn’t make it all the way through, then everyone will spend the rest of eternity imprisoned in the bowels of the earth, stuck in their own dream incarnation forever.
The theme here – the importance of helping each other, our inter-dependence in life – is a powerful message for this readership, which is very dependent on others in everyday life, and which is still of an age when the urge to help others (especially any child or animal in distress) seems to come naturally. The novel’s other main themes deal, firstly, with the idea that with sufficient self-belief we can make our dreams come true; and secondly, with society’s heartless progress, as technology moves us ever onwards but ignores people in the process.
Henry is given the chance to be a boy again so that he can finally understand what happened to his father all those years ago, save the trapped ‘lost dreamers’, and fight the powers-that-be to save his house from being bulldozed in the name of ‘development’.
How can one old-man-made-young-again – even with a team of helpers – ever hope to achieve so much in the face of such unpredictable and formidable obstacles?
Lynk comment
The Dream Watcher is a very impressive and engaging novel for young readers. It is appropriate for its target readership in terms of the language used, the protagonists’ ages and interests, and its exciting and inventive plot, rich with magic, weirdness and adventure.
Right from the opening chapter, we are immersed in a bizarre, fantastical world (yet made familiar through the characters’ relationships), and we accompany Henry and the other protagonists on their varied adventures as they try to make it all the way through the Forgotten Zone – and do a very good deed in the process.
The novel successfully incorporated a number of the conventional/archetypal elements of fiction for this age group: mythical creatures (some doing good, others bad), a mysterious forest, magic, time travel, a dangerous but necessary journey/quest to understand it all, and the child heroes facing and overcoming their fears – in the form of a series of trials – along the way. And all of this adventure is linked to the fate of Henry’s deceased father, meaning that the story retains a strong personal, family thread throughout.
The Dream Watcher also displays a fine understanding of children’s foibles and hopes. It taps a rich vein of humour in terms of what kids love and hate about their lives – uncontrollable hair, vegies that taste superb … the stuff (real and inverted) of everyday life as a child.
So the author ‘speaks to’ both the reading and the lived experience of the target market, and does so with a deft, light touch, which is lovely.
The characterisation at work is very effective. Each member of the team of protagonists is distinctively appealing, and each has a strong presence, with some (Henry, Happy, Lucy) being more prominent than others, as it should be. Together, these children are excellent models for readers to identify with: they work together and help each other, they get to live out their dreams (albeit, but necessarily, briefly), and they must overcome their fears as they undergo a difficult and dangerous mission.
The author also plumbs some impressive psychological depths in a very subtle way, as becomes apparent as the story unfolds. For instance, one boy who has been brought up ‘tough’ by his dad becomes a soft, cuddly teddy bear in his dream. Because he has been denied the tenderness – represented by the teddy bear – that every child needs, he acts like a ‘tough teddy’ for most of the story. But then he softens, and hugs a friend. This works well because of the emotions involved, and because the author doesn’t labour any aspect of it. There is some gender stereotyping in the character of Lucy (she longs for a knight in shining armour to come, she cries a lot, and she sews), but then there is the very unfeminine Sally to offset this; and later in the story, in a triumph of individuality, Lucy dumps the whole ‘shining knight’ notion.
Without revealing the ending, suffice to say that the story travels full circle from the opening scene and all the threads are neatly tied up. This is fine plotting, and it gives readers an inspirational message to take away.
Title: The Melody Makers
Synopsis
The Melody Makers are a band of musical instruments that live together in the music department of a primary school – a setting the target audience can readily relate to. The characters are lifeless in our world, but when they are stored away in their cases, they come to life. The inside of their cases resembles the interiors of modern houses, equipped with bedrooms, kitchens, living rooms, etc.
When the characters walk out their front doors (but still inside their cases), they step into the magical land of Melody Ville, where all their adventures take place. Melody Ville has streets, shops, parks and rivers – just like a real-life town, except there are no people. And it has similar dimensions to an actual small town: the instrument cases are a bit like the Tardis in Doctor Who, small on the outside but very big once inside.
The Melody Makers’ personalities derive from their respective sound or mood, their geographic or cultural origin, their physical properties, or a combination of these attributes.
It is proposed that the series will commence with a Pilot story that briefly introduces the characters and their world, and then be followed up by character-based stories.
Lynk comment
The Melody Makers is similar in some ways to the much-loved Munch Bunch and Mr Men books. The series is aimed at boys and girls aged c. 3–10 years, but could be enjoyed by any age group, including adults who are young at heart and who perhaps grew up reading the works of Roger Hargreaves and Giles Reed.
Musical instruments are incredibly varied and unusual in appearance. They spring from many different geographic and cultural origins, and conjure different sounds and moods. As such, they are the perfect vehicle for creating a cast of vibrant and varied characters with an array of personalities that are both attractive and exciting to children.
The Melody Makers series is intended to entertain children and arouse their interest in reading, while gently teaching life lessons and morals through the experiences of the characters (ie. the instruments). In addition, as many children baulk at structured music lessons but are fascinated by the instruments themselves, the series would serve as an ideal teaching aid. Primary school music teachers and parents could use them to spark enthusiasm about learning an instrument that a child may not have previously considered
Title: My Granny Mischa
Market/s: Three- to seven-year-olds; grandparents, and in particular grandmothers (especially those with a non-Anglo-Saxon background).
Word count: c. 1550 words.
Synopsis
My Granny Mischa is a celebration. It tells the story of a grandmother’s delight and joy at the imminent birth of her first grandchild. The narrator is this grandchild, looking back to the time ‘before I was born’ and re-telling the grandmother’s account of that happy Spring day when she was told of the forthcoming birth.
The story is a cumulative one, recounting, firstly, the grandmother’s exuberant response to the news that a baby is expected; and then, when she goes to the market, the affirming message from each shopkeeper that the child is wonderfully welcome. This latter section, set in a multicultural food market, draws together young and old, East and West, the Old World and the New – and it features some very tasty morsels from all corners of the globe.
The manuscript includes a short Notes section that provides explanations of all the unfamiliar terminology used, as well as the sources for references in the text. It even presents the recipe for the yummy traditional Russian dish, potato pirozhki, so that children and (grand)parents can make this together, after sharing the tale of My Granny Mischa.
Lynk comment
My Granny Mischa stands out from most picture books about grandparents in several ways. Firstly, the story is culturally inclusive: it highlights and appeals to the non-Anglo-Saxon elements of contemporary Australian society, and it does so via that most accessible cross-cultural medium of all – food. Many Australian children today have migrant grandparents, whose exotic ways – and dishes – can be most intriguing.
Secondly, the story conveys to young children an extremely positive message about their own place in society, as first Granny Mischa, and then all of her friends at the market, rejoice in the forthcoming birth.
An added appeal to book-buying grandparents is that the older characters are portrayed as playful and lively (please see also the comment in the ‘Illustrations’ section below).
Further, the child narrator’s gender is not specified, so that both boys and girls may relate to the character and the story with equal directness.
The number of picture books about grandparents is burgeoning – a strong indication that an appealing story like My Granny Mischa will gain considerable traction in the market.