Genre: Speculative Young Adult
Word Count: 70,000
Query:
Dear Agent:
OUR FATHER WHO ART IN HIGH SCHOOL is a speculative young
adult novel complete at 70,000 words, which I describe as Christopher Moore’s
Lamb meets The Breakfast Club.
God, known by his given name Maurice, has moved to a
new school for his senior year.
Unfortunately, his permanent record followed him. Apparently setting off locust in the
cafeteria, frogs in the science building, and turning the water from the
drinking fountain to blood is frowned upon in a learning institution.
Wanting to fit in, Maurice is thrilled to find
friendship with Buddy and Al, but Lou is giving him a devil of a time. Maurice
pines for the beautiful Aphrodite, not realizing Nature is right there waiting
for him. If only his ability to be
omniscient would develop.
To get through high school, Maurice must complete
his science project, a hot mess he calls Earth.
Despite the potential Mr. Rosenberg claims to see in Maurice’s science
project, he gives it a preliminary grade of D.
Maurice must find a way to fix it.
While his feud with Lou spins out of control, so
does his science project and his life.
Defending Nature, Maurice turns a snotty student into a pillar of salt,
a pillar of nutmeg, and a pillar of paprika.
When he causes a great flood in the cafeteria, it goes on his permanent
record. Knowing he must fight Lou, Maurice develops ground rules for their
upcoming brawl, which is just what he needs to tame his science project,
commandments and despite Buddy’s urging, no shoes, no shirt, no service didn’t
make it on the ten commandments. If
Maurice can use all his abilities, he can defend himself and his science
project from Lou and finally find peace.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
Eric Wheeler
First 250 Words:
When I arrive at
the school office, a middle-aged woman leans against the counter staring at a
crossword puzzle. She taps her pencil
against the empty squares as I let out a polite cough announcing my arrival. It does no good; she’s busy trying to find a
ten-letter word meaning to wish good
health.
“Gusundheit,” I
say, hoping to speed things along.
“Well bless your
heart.” She fills in the letters in the squares of her crossword puzzle. “How may I help you?” She asks in pleasant voice.
“I’m new here,
my name is Maurice Almighty.” Her smile quickly turns to a frown.
“We’ve been
expecting you.” Her tone turns rude as if she flipped a switch. It could mean one thing; my permanent record
beat me here.
The woman lifts
horned rimmed glasses from her face and stares at me with the naked eye.
“Mr. Allen, He’s
here.” She speaks into an intercom. She
doesn’t say my name, just He with a capital H and that says it all.
“Have a seat.”
She points with her pencil towards a wooden bench.
Not long after I
sit, I wiggle on the uncomfortable bench, which makes my left butt cheek go
numb. She doesn’t take her eyes off me
for a second and doesn’t attempt to conceal her distrust. Let off a few plagues in school and that shit
follow you, trust me.
