The ever-generous Michelle has set up a blog-hop for those of us poor souls who did not make it into #NewAgent. Sigh. Always the bridesmaid. And that one time literally, which was embarrassing. But anyway, here we go! My query and first 250 words. Critique away! Carve me a new one, hopefully a better one.
Once upon a time, in The City of No Stories, Gwendolyn Gray was running away. Her mother yelled, “Gwendolyn, wait! Stop!” But as usual, she didn’t listen. Her too-tight shoes pinched her feet as they slapped the pavement between the identical boxy skyscrapers.
Now, Gwendolyn herself had never heard any “once upon a times,” nor any “dark and stormy nights” for that matter, and as for this “best of times, worst of times” business, this morning was certainly one of the latter. As a little girl, she had always asked for stories at bedtime.
“Of course, dear,” her mother would say. “Which would you like? I could tell you of the results of the last census, or the year we had entirely too much rain, or the time your father and I went to the wrong dinner party by mistake-”
“Those are all fine…” little Gwendolyn would interrupt, “But what about a new story? Something that’s never happened before!”
Her mother would smile a mother’s smile and brush away an unruly lock of Gwendolyn’s hair. “There aren’t any new stories. You can’t make something out of nothing, love.” Then she’d tuck her in and go back to watching The Lambent, and that’s just the way it was.
Gwendolyn didn’t know where she was running to. Not far, probably. She never ran far, and usually went home as soon as she got hungry. But this morning was different. This morning was awful. This morning… well, it really wasn’t all that different, then.