If you’d like to participate, then please email me firstname.lastname@example.org by 5pm tomorrow & post the first page of your manuscript on YOUR blog. I will compile a list of the participating blogs and post them here tomorrow. That way, everyone can hop around and post constructive feedback on each others first page. I will randomly draw five names to receive a personal critique from Heather (Burch). I’ll announce those winners tomorrow on my blog and then contact you with instructions. Also, I will personally visit everyone’s blog to comment and will keep a tally on who is leaving the most helpful comments for others:) That person’s reward will be a mailed copy of Heather’s book (Halflings) *can I get a woot, woot* I’ll announce that winner on my regular blog next Wednesday.
Here's my first page of Kala's Curse:
The lion is strong
The elephant wise
The gazelle graceful
The cheetah swift
So shall be King Fon’s heir
A great warrior
and uniter of kingdoms
High and low
A cheetah crouched in the long, yellow grass only a few paces away, ears flattened, a growl rumbling in its throat. My feet felt as if they were baked into hardened clay. As always, I, Princess Kala, heir to the High Kongo throne, had dug myself into deep dung.
Steady now, I thought, drawing back my bowstring and aiming at the cheetah’s chest. My palms felt sticky under the sweltering sun that sapped the moisture from the cracked, red earth. Though my hands trembled with trepidation, I hesitated to shoot the imposing creature I’d accidentally run into while hunting savannah rats. I could make out flecks of white in the animal’s tan coat, see its ribs expand and contract, and sense the life force radiating from its sleek body.
I stared into the glowing red eyes and saw myself standing before the cheetah the way I could see my reflection in water. My coal-colored skin glistened, and the strong odor of salty sweat mixed with perfume from oils rubbed on my body hit me. I felt the cheetah’s powerful legs tense to spring, and yet, I knew it didn’t want to kill me anymore than I wanted to kill it. This creature of the wild feared my arrow as much as I did its bite, though it feared not for its own life. Overriding the impulse to run, a stronger protective instinct trapped the animal.