Title: FINDING ME
Genre: MG Contemporary
Word count: 38,000
My Main Character's Most Fearsome Obsession is:
SueAnne’s not sure which is more fearsome: the fact that things talk to her, or maybe the possibility that she actually talks back. Not all the time. But sometimes she just can’t resist. It’s not really an obsession. At least, she doesn’t think it is. Not yet. But having it become one is where the fear would really set in.
Twelve-year-old SueAnn loves her half-leg Stumpy, bff Jenny, and a bucket load of horchata. Without them, she never would’ve survived the move across town with her dad’s new, high-paying job. Now that she’s finally settled into school and home life, her mom suggests two more changes: new friends and a prosthetic leg.
Sue’s excited about the possibility of walking, but she panics at the thought of making such a huge life-changing decision. And resisting only sends her overactive imagination into hyper drive. Walls start talking, the furniture tells jokes, and pots begin to sing. Now everything seems to have a voice…and an opinion. Sue gets the point—loud and clear. Some new friends probably wouldn’t hurt.
Jenny’s excited for Sue at first, but eventually she grows hesitant as things start to change between them. And every time Sue mentions a new leg, Jenny withdraws even more. Sue would hate to lose Jenny’s friendship after all they’ve been through. But if the other option means endless conversations with talking objects while being stuck with a set of wheels, then staying the same might be worse.
First 250 words:
On Monday, my house talked to me. At least I think it did. Maybe it was me talking to myself. Nothing big, just, “Hey, this wall can’t take it anymore.” And quite frankly, I don’t blame it. I wheel into it at least once or twice a day. It’s just so hard to make it around that corner. Especially when I’m distracted. Of course Mom had to remind me how good it would be to make new friends.
On Tuesday, the desk in homeroom gave me a hard time. “Can’t you use a normal chair? What am I supposed to do with all these dents and scratches?” Again, I’m trying my hardest. I don’t mean to hurt the furniture.
Now that it’s Wednesday, I shouldn’t be surprised when our van says, “I can’t lift your wheelchair anymore, Sue.” So Mom insists on doing it even though she knows I can crawl up on my own. She hoists me into the front seat as I cling to her neck. I’m sure we’re both going to meet the pavement in any given second but we don’t. She only sways once and I wonder if she’s been working out. I’m not five anymore and she hasn’t carried me in a while. But I’m sure the pavement is happy about it. It probably would have given me a lecture on keeping my hands to myself.
I’m not sure why so many things are talking to me, or why I think they are. Maybe Mom’s onto something.
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