Homer Writers Conference

Discussion in 'General Card Modeling' started by lizzienewell, Jul 9, 2006.

  1. lizzienewell

    lizzienewell Member


    I attended the Kachemak Bay Writers Conference in Homer, Alaska and brought along a sample model. I showed it to an agent as an opening to discussing my novel manuscript. It worked. She asked me to send her a pitch letter and the first 2 chapters. I've sent them off to her and haven't heard back. That's not so good.
    The model was also great for starting up conversations with other writers with similar interests. I talked to one guy who is trying to put a movie studio in Homer. He is also writing science fiction and designing imaginary aircraft.
    His interest was partly in the movie making special effects aspect. His plans for a studio may be a pipe dream but I hope they happen.
    Sorry, I don't have many photos of the conference. I dropped my camera and broke the lens.
  2. milenio3

    milenio3 Active Member

    Have you posted any of your work on internet for all of us to take a peek at your work?
  3. lizzienewell

    lizzienewell Member

    Probably the easiest way to find the pictures is to click on my name to find the photos that I've includes while posting on this website.
  4. milenio3

    milenio3 Active Member

    Sorry... should be more specific... I meant your "other" work, writing. You've mentioned you are a writer, so I thought maybe you can share some pieces of that on the forum, or maybe a blog?
  5. thewoodengraver

    thewoodengraver Active Member

    I'm with you milenio3! love to read your book Lizzie!
    Congratulations on a successful conference! Be patient when waiting for replies...they will come!
    Sorry you broke your camera. :(
  6. lizzienewell

    lizzienewell Member

    I'm up against the difficulty of publishing. If I post for free on the web then I lose my first publication rights and can't sell the writing. So far all I've gotten are rejection letters from publishers.
    I can post small excerpts without damaging my rights.Here is the opening of my novel, Komoko Sound. It has the craft that I make models of right in the first paragraph.

    The woman in my models is Pegea(Peggy). Only men with implants flew skips butthe men died so the skips went out of use for awhile. There were junker skips laying around, so Peggy's husband fixed one up for her and modified it so that she could fly it with manual controls--that part isn't in the novel.

    Chapter 01 -- Skiphouse

    The corpses covered the floor in heaped rows from the repair stations to the launching docks. Every man and most of the boys in our clan had died, but I wouldn’t weep. I'd be strong for my brother Kisutch. Above the shroud-wrapped bodies, skips hung from gantries, never to extend their wings in our fjords again.

    Kisutch walked beside me as we stepped over and between the bodies to get to his vessel. His hand was small in mine. He was still sick, and his face was pale, ashen beneath the tan of his skin. Under his velvet hair, the scars of his implant were raised weals in star patterns.

    I'd always been a husky girl, but I wasn't big enough to hide death. I wore a student's smock and leggings. He wore a Tulko lifevest and hipboots. Behind us filed other survivors--children in similar clothing. The line frayed with boys leading girls toward the row of doors to the lagoon.

    The bodies shouldn’t have been in the house of the living, in the house of my brother. It was his, for our uncle had died, then our eldest brother too had succumbed to the fever. My brother Kisutch was now Lord Komoko at only a dozen-one years old. Kisutch had never expected to become the incarnation of Komoko Sound, the spirit of our sea. Or to walk among the dead as the oldest surviving male in the Komoko clan.

    Women shelter their brothers, and men in turn protect sisters and their children. This is the way that is right, but I could not shelter Kisutch from death, rank and sweet. The carnage was too great, and my stupid aunts had placed the dead in the hangar.

    My brother's fever clouded eyes stared ahead. He transmitted a command, and his craft shifted forward. I steadied the skip as the gantry lowered her to the water and the cradle released. This flying kayak would carry my brother, but I would never fly one because I was a girl and I had no implant. Those with implants were dying.

    Maybe the children were more resistant. They had implants and were sick but hadn't died yet. The healthweavers thought that our boys might survive if they sought treatment off-planet.

    My aunts hadn’t known that children would walk through the hangar, but they still shouldn’t have put bodies in there. It wasn’t a crypt.
    Girls from clan Jamako followed our boys to the skips. Clan Jamako women performed the surgery to install the implants, and they had implants themselves. If I'd been a surgeon, I'd have an implant, and have died too. No one past puberty with an implant survived.

    Kisutch's skip floated. Beyond, skips shifted forward on other gantries. Boys opened the hatches and stepped into the pilot seats. The girls and the other boys climbed into the rear seats. Only the older boys could operate skips, and there were barely enough pilots. There wasn’t room for a healthy girl like me. Two Jamako girls would fly with him.

    I held Kisutch to my bosom and whispered to him. He was too old to be hugged but too weak to care.

    "Tide carry you, Pegea." He spoke like a man and then stepped onto the shoulder of the skip and into the cockpit.

    One of the launch doors opened and a skip exited. On the lagoon, the vessel taxied, turned, and came up to speed so that she hydroplaned over the teal water. Then leaping to the air, she opened her wings and skimmed above the water like a harlequin duck between glaciated mountains.

    In the pilot seat of his waiting skip, Kisutch sat with a helmet over his embossed scalp, and straps across his shoulders. Behind him, the two girls were strapped in. The canopy hatchs slid shut. Through the glazing, Kisutch nodded a safety check and the skip responded: hull rocked, ailerons extended, wings twitched.

    His launch door opened to bright sunlight on the lagoon. Kisutch’s skip glided away from me. He leapt the sea wall and followed the others toward the Narrows and onward to the spaceport--to the silence and distance of outer-space.
  7. thewoodengraver

    thewoodengraver Active Member

    ...bbb...but I was just starting to get into it! WANT MORE!
    everybody chant with me...
  8. milenio3

    milenio3 Active Member

    Wow... I was imagining your model as I read... and a tune in my head from a 5 star movie.
    A movie... maybe... why not?
    Thnk you LIZZIE!!

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