Monday, July 21, 2014

IWTN Entry 6: The Secret Power of the Bee, MG Contemporary

Title: The Secret Powers of the Bee
Word Count: 47,000
Genre: MG Contemporary Fiction


Under the guise of a superhero, Pete and his friends become efficient at punishing the bullies in their middle school. Too efficient.

After Bryant the Giant gives the new kid the ultimate wedgie, Pete creates a superhero to teach him a lesson. He recruits his friends, who use their years of honed RPGing skills and THE ART OF WAR to form the perfect plan. One dresses up in a bright yellow costume to distract Bryant and the crowd while the others create the illusion victory didn’t come from a bunch of kids but one superhero named “The Bee.”

When another student figures out how the Bee works and who’s behind it, she pleads with Pete and his friends to take down her cyber bully. They reluctantly agree and dress her up as the Bee to confront her nemesis. Despite Pete’s growing discomfort with the Bee, his friends each use the suit to deal justice without consulting the rest of the group.

Soon, every student fears the Bee could come for them next, and Pete decides it’s gone too far. But his friends’ vigilantism is only beginning, and defying them means becoming the biggest outcast the school has ever known.

First 250 words:

The superhero idea first occurred to me on a Wednesday. The day new comic books hit the racks. Fitting.

On that day, Sulfur came out, which made it my Wednesday of the month. My fingers fumbled with the lock on my bike. My innards jittered. I had waited all day for school to end. After a visit to the comic shop, I’d ride off to Wesley’s to continue our tabletop campaign. The perfect day.

As I pulled my bike away from the wavy metal rack, Bryant’s voice called, “C’mere. I wanna talk to ya.”

My heart stopped. I tilted my head enough to see what was happening. Behind me, buses lined up along the curb of the school. Their engines rumbled as they loaded up with students. The scent of exhaust mingled with the fresh leaves from the dense trees next to me.

The new kid, Kyle, walked toward Bryant in a nearby grassy area. I let out a breath. Thank the Maker, Bryant wasn’t talking to me. If I was Kyle, I would’ve run. He was either stupid or had no idea what was coming.

Bryant—or Bryant the Giant, as many called him—never beat kids up for their lunch money. He demanded respect, something Kyle didn’t give him. Earlier in the day, Kyle said something stupid about Bryant. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He was just trying to be a comedian. His attempt at humor flopped, and his comment failed to be remembered by anyone but Bryant.

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