Author Interview: Michelle Smith

Visit author Michelle Smith's website.

We are so thrilled and honored to feature writer, critique group member, mental health advocate, and all-around awesome human,  Michelle Smith.  

Michelle’s debut novel YA novel, PLAY ON, is now available as an e-book and will be out in print on April 21^st. 

First, an intro to PLAY ON: 

PLAY ON

In the small town of Lewis Creek, baseball is everything. Especially for all-star pitcher Austin Braxton, who has a one-way ticket out of town with his scholarship to a top university. All that stands between him and a new start is one final season. But when Austin starts flunking Chemistry, his picture-perfect future is in jeopardy. A failing grade means zero playing time, and zero playing time means no scholarship.

Enter Marisa Marlowe, the new girl in town who gets a job at his momma’s flower shop. Not only is Marisa some home-schooled super-genius, she’s also a baseball fanatic and more than willing to help Austin study. As the two grow closer, there’s something about Marisa that makes Austin want more than just baseball and out of Lewis Creek–he wants a future with her. But Marisa has a past that still haunts her, one that she ran all the way to South Carolina to escape.

As Austin starts to peel back the layers of Marisa s pain, it forces him to look beyond the facade of himself and everyone he thought he knew in his town. What he sees instead is that in a small town like Lewis Creek, maybe baseball isn’t everything–maybe it is just the thing that ties them all together.

Purchase PLAY ON: Amazon  Barnes & Noble  Book Depository IndieBound 

RW: We have so many questions for you! But, we also know you are crazy busy with your release day (!!!) so we’ll try to keep it together. Let’s talk about your debut! You’ve mentioned PLAY ON is the book of your heart. Could you share what makes this story so dear to you?

MS: I think because it comes from such a personal place. It probably sounds cheesy, but so much of my heart and soul went into those pages. There are thoughts that I never thought I should share—thoughts that I didn’t know I could share. The idea for this book was in the works for a long time, until I finally worked up the nerve to start writing it. And I’m really glad I did! 

RW: I think many writers feel a sense of vulnerability putting their words out into the world. Not only have you jumped that hurdle, you’ve gone a leap further and opened up about yourself, authoring posts for outstanding sites like To Write Love on Her Arms and, don’t bleed. breathe. Can you tell us about the decision to share your personal experiences? 

MS: The primary reason is so others will realize that they’re not alone. 

When I was going through the thick of depression, I was convinced that no one could possibly understand what my head was doing. That I was broken, that I was scarred, that I was beyond reaching. That there was no possibility for this to go anywhere but down. Depression is a very convincing liar, and it’s easy to believe those lies. So I want others to know that, while depression is so very dark and painful, there is hope, and the darkness doesn’t last forever. 

RW: As critique partner, we’re all constantly amazed by your voice.  Your characters always ring true, so vivid and memorable. Can you share a little about your character development process? Character sketches? Channeling spirits? How do you do it?! 

MS: Good gracious, I adore you guys.

I just…write people? Haha! My stories are always characters first, and I love to dive into their heads, to feel what they’re feeling, to say what they’re thinking. I will say that some characters are a little more difficult to connect with at first. In my most recent WIP, I was called out for boxing myself and my characters in, which was completely justified (I kind of realized I was doing it while writing). So my editor sent me a character development worksheet that was 8 pages long (I am not even kidding), and I just went to work. I was able to dig into them a little deeper, and it helped immensely. 

RW: We’ve got a great thing going here at RW: a blogging platform with a built-in critique group (often times support group!). But joining a critique group can be a daunting endeavor. Can you share what made you decide to reach out to the writing community?

MS: My first experience ever working with a beta reader was back in my fan fiction days. She nitpicked my grammar, let me know when my characters were being waaaaay too unrealistic, and told me when I could do so much more with a story when I tried to play it safe.

I loved her for it. And five years later, she’s still one of my closest friends. She’s also the one who talked me into writing my first book.

Critique makes you a better writer—it’s really that simple. Yes, critique can be difficult to handle in the beginning, especially if you have paper-thin skin, but it’s a necessity. Sometimes we nail a scene. Sometimes our chapters need work. And sometimes our entire book need a re-write. As writers, we often get too close to a story, and we’re unable to see the things that just aren’t working. Outside eyes help. 

All that said, it is important to find a critique group that matches your style—some readers are brutally honest, and some are more gentle guiders. The one necessity is that you find a group that’s honest. We absolutely need cheerleaders; we also need people who’ll give it to us straight, and won’t let us get away with anything less than our best.

Needless to say, I’m so happy I found you guys. 

RW: Can you share any deets about upcoming projects?

MS: Very, very little deets at this time. But I will say that we haven’t seen the last of Lewis Creek and its baseball boys. ;)

RW: More from Lewis Creek? YES! Okay, final question—and this is incredibly important—what is it that makes Dean Winchester so damn compelling?  *pause for moment of reflective sighing*

MS: *cracks knuckles* Now you’re speaking my language.

We have pie.

We have the Impala.

We have his love for Sam…

And Castiel.

We have the heartbreaking moments.

And we have general badassery. 

All that to say:

RW: You’re the best Michelle!!! 

MS: YOU are. 

About Michelle:

Michelle Smith was born and raised in North Carolina, where she developed a healthy appreciation for college football, sweet tea, front porches, and a well-placed “y’all.” She’s a lover of all things happy, laughs way too much, and fully believes that a little bit of kindness goes a long way.
Michelle lives near the Carolina coast with her family.

Connect with Michelle:   Website | Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr

Group Hug

If you've been following my posts, you already know that I quit querying my last project so I could focus on my WIP. A few weeks ago, something prompted me to send out a few more queries. I was pleasantly surprised when I received a full request. It's been a great few weeks of 'What Ifs' and 'Maybes', but alas, this morning I received a polite pass.

I had a blog I began a few days ago that I was supposed to post today. But after receiving the 'we didn't feel strongly enough about your project to take it on at this time' message, I kind of cracked. I don't know, I could blame hormones or 'Tis the Season. Regardless, I immediately posted my Woe is Me Message to my fellow RWers. Even during this crazy busy time of the year, they immediately responded with words of encouragement and support. I seriously wished I could reach through the screen and give each of them a giant hug.

So, instead of blogging about writing today, I instead decided to thank my AMAZING critique groups the Revision Warriors and the OWLS (Osceola County SCBWI). I LOVE you guys so much. Thank you for believing in me and for inspiring me each and every day.

If you are not a part of a critique group, I strongly recommend you join one. If you write children's books and are a part of SCBWI, contact your local branch for information on a critique group within your area. You won't regret it.

photo credit: JeremyHall via photopin cc

Honorary Warrior, Christy 5 of 5

We want to thank those who signed up for an opportunity to become an honorary warrior. It's scary to put your words out there to be evaluated by your peers--especially in a setting such as this. We applaud your bravery and truly appreciate you trusting us with your beloved words. 

For the next two weeks, we'll be looking at our winners first pages and providing our thoughts. Week Two: Christy.

Christy submitted a MG fantasy titled: ANCORA. Click here to see Christy's submission free of any comments. Every few days this week, we'll post one of our critiques of these first pages. To see all the critiques (once they have all posted) you can click the quick link under label titled Honorary Warriors.

Please know, we found it is extremely difficult to provide feedback on a blog post without the document becoming a bit of a mess. For this reason, some of our 'THIS IS AWESOME' comments may be at the bottom of the document. Areas that caused hesitation, questions, and praise are highlighted with the reason pasted immediately after the paragraph.
Rina's Thoughts:

Katie twisted the stark white feather between her fingertips. Three feet from base to tip, it was unlike any she’d ever seen. Not just because of its size, but because of the way it glimmered -- as if it possessed its own light source.

Very intriguing! And what a beautiful image. 

She ran a finger over its tufts. How could it be so strong and soft at the same time? A single bead of water slid from the feather’s base to its tip, glittering in the moonlight and falling to the ground.

Nice thought.

As she held it, something tugged at her inside. She had an urge to answer, to yell out, “yes!” and “here I come!” It startled her, but instead of dropping the feather, she curled her fingers even more tightly around it.

Could cut.

She was in her secret place, a tucked-back nook in the woods near her house. She guarded its secret like a dragon hoarding a jeweled chalice, never mentioning it to anyone, careful no one saw her coming or going between its branches.

Could tweak this a bit to make a little more “show-y”, something better than this but just an example:   

 “Katie rested her back against the sturdy tree trunk, exhaling and letting the solitude of her secret pace relax her.” 

She first discovered the spot between a thick of bushes and trees draped in green hanging moss. The dome of limbs and vines arched from the ground like the half-circle monkey bars on a playground. To her it was a fortress, a castle, a secret keep. She trekked the woods near her house, pulling down palm fronds to cover the dome. She named her hideout Palm Island.

Could introduce a little foreshadowing here? Maybe something like,

 “She discovered the spot on accident. One afternoon when her house was too full of worry to offer any cozy places, she ran outside, through the woods at the edge of her yard and poof—there it was.

Katie escaped to Palm Island anytime she needed to be alone. Days like today.

As she examined the feather, a shiver ran all the way down her spine and left a trail of goose bumps to her toes. It mattered. Yet she did not know why, or how much – only that it did.

At this point I’m finding myself very curious about where that feather came from

Just then, she was startled by a quick flash of movement through the layers of branches and vines. Then a stir of leaves. A step-crunch-step.

Could cut

 From her shadowed alcove, she pulled back a branch and peered out, the feather clutched at her side. Ahead, another white flash swished through panels of shadow and light. She walked toward it, but the footsteps receded. The whiteness vanished.

Could cut to keep the tension up. 

The surrounding air thickened and grew damp, the sounds of night distant, muffled as if swallowed in a cloud.

J So good! 

Her grandmother’s voice sliced through the murky air. Katie whipped her head toward home. At that moment, a gust of wind snatched the feather from her hand. She darted to catch it, but it streaked away, spiraling into the night.

And it took some part of her with it -- a small, lonely spark of light that hadn’t been there before.

Katie remained staring up long after the faintest glimmer had vanished.

Her grandmother’s third call broke the spell over her, and she turned toward home. 

In the house, pots and pans clanked from the kitchen and the smell of sautéed onions and ground beef filled the air – her grandmother starting dinner.

Katie would offer to help, but her Grandma would only usher her away, telling her to go visit her mom. She needed a little more time to work up the courage.

Random idea, what if you set this thought off into its own paragraph? 

In her room, she slumped to the floor. A year ago, the doctors said her mother had two years to live. The past year had vanished like a word written too close to the ocean’s shore.

HEARTBREAK. Poor baby.  I like these lines, but what if they came at the end of the next paragrapgh? What if the reader learns about Katie’s mom with this line: A painful ache started there the day she learned her mother had cancer, and had only grown worse since.

Katie absently lifted both hands to cover her heart. A painful ache started there the day she learned her mother had cancer, and had only grown worse since. She wondered if other girls her age felt this way. She was only twelve but sometimes felt as though she’d lived twelve lifetimes.

Absent-mindedly ? 

Her cat Coal squeezed in the doorway and rubbed against her sneakers. His eyes met hers and he greeted her with a trilling mew.

“Hi Coal,” Katie said. She stroked his silky black fur. He purred and dropped to his back, looking up at her from half slit eyes.

“It was a rough day,” she said, scratching his stomach. He took her hand between his front paws and licked one of her knuckles, then rolled on his side. His tail hit the carpet in soft thumps.

So glad she has this source of comfort. 

Some things I thought were especially awesome:

* She guarded its secret like a dragon hoarding a jeweled chalice, never mentioning it to anyone, careful no one saw her coming or going between its branches.

* To her it was a fortress, a castle, a secret keep. 

* The past year had vanished like a word written too close to the ocean’s shore.

Honorary Warrior, Christy 4 of 5

We want to thank those who signed up for an opportunity to become an honorary warrior. It's scary to put your words out there to be evaluated by your peers--especially in a setting such as this. We applaud your bravery and truly appreciate you trusting us with your beloved words. 

For the next two weeks, we'll be looking at our winners first pages and providing our thoughts. Week Two: Christy.

Christy submitted a MG fantasy titled: ANCORA. Click here to see Christy's submission free of any comments. Every few days this week, we'll post one of our critiques of these first pages. To see all the critiques (once they have all posted) you can click the quick link under label titled Honorary Warriors.

Please know, we found it is extremely difficult to provide feedback on a blog post without the document becoming a bit of a mess. For this reason, some of our 'THIS IS AWESOME' comments may be at the bottom of the document. Areas that caused hesitation, questions, and praise are highlighted with the reason pasted immediately after the paragraph.
Michelle's Thoughts:

Katie twisted the stark white feather between her fingertips. Three feet from base to tip, it was unlike any she’d ever seen. Not just because of its size, but because of the way it glimmered -- as if it possessed its own light source.

Oooh, I like this opening!

She ran a finger over its tufts. How could it be so strong and soft at the same time? A single bead of water slid from the feather’s base to its tip, glittering in the moonlight and falling to the ground.

As she held it, something tugged at her inside. She had an urge to answer, to yell out, “yes!” and “here I come!” It startled her, but instead of dropping the feather, she curled her fingers even more tightly around it.

She was in her secret place, a tucked-back nook in the woods near her house. She guarded its secret like a dragon hoarding a jeweled chalice, never mentioning it to anyone, careful no one saw her coming or going between its branches.

Loving these descriptions.

She first discovered the spot between a thick of bushes and trees draped in green hanging moss. The dome of limbs and vines arched from the ground like the half-circle monkey bars on a playground. To her it was a fortress, a castle, a secret keep. She trekked the woods near her house, pulling down palm fronds to cover the dome. She named her hideout Palm Island.

Katie escaped to Palm Island anytime she needed to be alone. Days like today.

As she examined the feather, a shiver ran all the way down her spine and left a trail of goose bumps to her toes. It mattered. Yet she did not know why, or how much – only that it did.

Just then, she was startled by a quick flash of movement through the layers of branches and vines. Then a stir of leaves. A step-crunch-step.

I’d suggest being careful with phrases like “Just then.” It adds unnecessary weight to something happening suddenly. 

 From her shadowed alcove, she pulled back a branch and peered out, the feather clutched at her side. Ahead, another white flash swished through panels of shadow and light. She walked toward it, but the footsteps receded. The whiteness vanished.

The surrounding air thickened and grew damp, the sounds of night distant, muffled as if swallowed in a cloud.

Her grandmother’s voice sliced through the murky air. Katie whipped her head toward home. At that moment, a gust of wind snatched the feather from her hand. She darted to catch it, but it streaked away, spiraling into the night.

And it took some part of her with it -- a small, lonely spark of light that hadn’t been there before.

Katie remained staring up long after the faintest glimmer had vanished.

Her grandmother’s third call broke the spell over her, and she turned toward home. 

In the house, pots and pans clanked from the kitchen and the smell of sautéed onions and ground beef filled the air – her grandmother starting dinner.

Katie would offer to help, but her Grandma would only usher her away, telling her to go visit her mom. She needed a little more time to work up the courage.

In her room, she slumped to the floor. A year ago, the doctors said her mother had two years to live. The past year had vanished like a word written too close to the ocean’s shore.

Katie absently lifted both hands to cover her heart. A painful ache started there the day she learned her mother had cancer, and had only grown worse since. She wondered if other girls her age felt this way. She was only twelve but sometimes felt as though she’d lived twelve lifetimes.

Her cat Coal squeezed in the doorway and rubbed against her sneakers. His eyes met hers and he greeted her with a trilling mew.

“Hi Coal,” Katie said. She stroked his silky black fur. He purred and dropped to his back, looking up at her from half slit eyes.

“It was a rough day,” she said, scratching his stomach. He took her hand between his front paws and licked one of her knuckles, then rolled on his side. His tail hit the carpet in soft thumps.

I feel terrible that I don’t have much to suggest, but I loved this! 

Honorary Warrior, Christy 3 of 5

We want to thank those who signed up for an opportunity to become an honorary warrior. It's scary to put your words out there to be evaluated by your peers--especially in a setting such as this. We applaud your bravery and truly appreciate you trusting us with your beloved words. 

For the next two weeks, we'll be looking at our winners first pages and providing our thoughts. Week Two: Christy.

Christy submitted a MG fantasy titled: ANCORA. Click here to see Christy's submission free of any comments. Every few days this week, we'll post one of our critiques of these first pages. To see all the critiques (once they have all posted) you can click the quick link under label titled Honorary Warriors.

Please know, we found it is extremely difficult to provide feedback on a blog post without the document becoming a bit of a mess. For this reason, some of our 'THIS IS AWESOME' comments may be at the bottom of the document. Areas that caused hesitation, questions, and praise are highlighted with the reason pasted immediately after the paragraph.
Marlana's Thoughts:

Katie twisted the stark white feather between her fingertips. Three feet from base to tip, it was unlike any she’d ever seen. Not just because of its size, but because of the way it (1)glimmered -- as if it possessed its own light source.

(1) This is really intriguing and you've caught my attention. :) 

(2) Can you take this even further? Is it glowing? Is it a pulsating light?

She ran a finger over its tufts. (1)How could it be so strong and soft at the same time? A single bead of water slid from the feather’s base to its tip, glittering in the moonlight and falling to the ground.

(1) I think there's also an opportunity here to show us more. What physical indicators are present that shows Katie that it's strong? For example: when she runs her finger across the tufts, does it make a sound?  

As she held it, something tugged at her inside. She had an urge to answer, to yell out, “yes!” and “here I come!” It startled her, but instead of dropping the feather, she curled her fingers even more tightly around it.

(1)She was in her secret place, a tucked-back nook in the woods near her house. She guarded its secret like a dragon hoarding a jeweled chalice, (2)never mentioning it to anyone, careful no one saw her coming or going between its branches.

(1) I think this paragraph might serve better as your opening. For some reason, it feels a little like backstory placed here. 

(2) Possible cut since its reiterated what the previous sentence established.

She first discovered the spot between a thick of bushes and trees draped in green hanging moss. (1)The dome of limbs and vines arched from the ground like the half-circle monkey bars on a playground. To her it was a fortress, a castle, a secret keep. She (2)had trekked the woods near her house, pulling down palm fronds to cover the dome. She named her hideout Palm Island.

(1) Awesome description - I can totally see it.

(2) Add 'had' -- had trekked

Katie escaped to Palm Island anytime she needed to be alone. Days like today.

As she examined the feather, a shiver ran all the way down her spine and left a trail of goose bumps to her toes. It mattered. Yet she did not know why, or how much – only that it did.

(1)Just then, she was (2)startled by a quick flash of movement through the layers of branches and vines. Then a stir of leaves. A step-crunch-step.

(1) 'Just then' slow down the action / diminishes the tension. Possible cut. Also, I think you could combine this paragraph with the paragraph below

(2) Repeat word

 From her shadowed alcove, she pulled back a branch and peered out, the feather clutched at her side. Ahead, another white flash swished through panels of shadow and light. She walked toward it, but the footsteps receded. The whiteness vanished.

How does this make her feel? 

The surrounding air thickened and grew damp, the sounds of night distant, muffled as if swallowed in a cloud.

Beautiful! 

Her grandmother’s voice sliced through the murky air. Katie whipped her head toward home. (1)At that moment, a gust of wind snatched the feather from her hand. She (2)darted to catch it, but it streaked away, (3)spiraling into the night.

(1) Again - this is a slow down phrase IMHO. Possible cut. 

(2) I love the verb 'darted' but with all the imagery you're painting, here I just wanted it simple because I felt darted sounded a bit forced. Possibly change to  -- She tried to catch it

(3)Great imagery

And it took some part of her with it -- a small, lonely spark of light that hadn’t been there before.

Katie remained staring up long after the faintest glimmer had vanished.

Her grandmother’s third call broke the spell over her, and she turned toward home. 

Repeat phrase.  

In the house, pots and pans clanked from the kitchen and the smell of sautéed onions and ground beef filled the air – her grandmother starting dinner.

I feel like I'm missing a sentence or two of entering the house

Katie would offer to help, but her Grandma would only usher her away, telling her to go visit her mom. She needed a little more time to work up the courage.

This foreshadowing doesn't work for me here, maybe give us more of a reason why she needed more time.

In her room, she slumped to the floor. A year ago, the doctors said her mother had two years to live. The past year had vanished like a word written too close to the ocean’s shore.

Aha. Okay - I'd suggest putting this before the line that she needed more time to work up some courage

Katie absently lifted both hands to cover her heart. A painful ache started there the day she learned her mother had cancer, and had only grown worse since. She wondered if other girls her age felt this way. She was only twelve but sometimes felt as though she’d lived twelve lifetimes.

This feels forced IMHO and I'm wondering why she'd think of other girls feeling like this since other girls she's referring to probably don't have a mother dying of cancer.

Her cat Coal squeezed in the doorway and rubbed against her sneakers. His eyes met hers and he greeted her with a trilling mew.

“Hi Coal,” Katie said. She stroked his silky black fur. He purred and dropped to his back, looking up at her from half slit eyes.

“It was a rough day,” she said, scratching his stomach. He took her hand between his front paws and licked one of her knuckles, then rolled on his side. His tail hit the carpet in soft thumps.

You are very gifted at painting imagery through your words. I'm very curious about the giant feather and am wondering what important role it will play in Katie's story.

Here are a few of your lines that struck me as especially awesome.

* A single bead of water slid from the feather’s base to its tip, glittering in the moonlight and falling to the ground.

* She guarded its secret like a dragon hoarding a jeweled chalice,

* The past year had vanished like a word written too close to the ocean’s shore.

Honorary Warrior, Christy 2 of 5

We want to thank those who signed up for an opportunity to become an honorary warrior. It's scary to put your words out there to be evaluated by your peers--especially in a setting such as this. We applaud your bravery and truly appreciate you trusting us with your beloved words. 

For the next two weeks, we'll be looking at our winners first pages and providing our thoughts. Week Two: Christy.

Christy submitted a MG fantasy titled: ANCORA. Click here to see Christy's submission free of any comments. Every few days this week, we'll post one of our critiques of these first pages. To see all the critiques (once they have all posted) you can click the quick link under label titled Honorary Warriors.

Please know, we found it is extremely difficult to provide feedback on a blog post without the document becoming a bit of a mess. For this reason, some of our 'THIS IS AWESOME' comments may be at the bottom of the document. Areas that caused hesitation, questions, and praise are highlighted with the reason pasted immediately after the paragraph.
Diane's Thoughts:

Katie twisted the stark white feather between her fingertips. Three feet from base to tip, it was unlike any she’d ever seen. Not just because of its size, but because of the way it glimmered -- as if it possessed its own light source.

What a cool detail! 

She ran a finger over its tufts. How could it be so strong and soft at the same time? A single bead of water slid from the feather’s base to its tip, glittering in the moonlight and falling to the ground.

Replace with 'length' to avoid repetition base to tip. J

As she held it, something tugged at her inside. (1)She had an urge to answer, to yell out, “yes!” and “here I come!” (2)It startled her, but instead of dropping the feather, she curled her fingers even more tightly around it.

(1)Makes me so curious! I’m guessing this is not an animal feather. J

(2) Replace 'It' with 'The need'

She was in her secret place, a tucked-back nook in the woods near her house. She guarded (1)its secret like a dragon hoarding a jeweled chalice, never mentioning (2)it to anyone, careful no one saw her coming or going between its branches.

 (1) Replace with 'the'

(2) Replace with 'her hideout'

She (1)first discovered the spot between a thick of bushes and trees draped in green hanging moss. (2)The dome of limbs and vines arched from the ground like the half-circle monkey bars on a playground. To her it was a fortress, a castle, a secret keep. She trekked the woods near her house, pulling down palm fronds to cover the dome. She named her hideout Palm Island.

 (1) This implies a time frame. So at the end of the sentence tell when. For example: “She first discovered the spot between a thick of bushes and trees draped in the green hanging moss when she was eight.”

(2) Great description. J I can picture it. J

Katie escaped to Palm Island anytime she needed to be alone. Days like today.

As she examined the feather, a shiver ran all the way down her spine and left a trail of goose bumps to her toes. It mattered. Yet she did not know why, or how much – only that it did.

Interesting…

Just then, she was startled by a quick flash of movement through the layers of branches and vines. Then a stir of leaves. A step-crunch-step.

 From her shadowed alcove, she pulled back a branch and peered out, the feather clutched at her side. Ahead, another white flash swished through panels of shadow and light. She walked toward it, but the footsteps receded. The whiteness vanished.

Ooooo this must be the owner of the feather! 

The surrounding air thickened and grew damp, the sounds of night distant, muffled as if swallowed in a cloud.

Her grandmother’s voice sliced through the murky air. Katie whipped her head toward home. At that moment, a gust of wind snatched the feather from her hand. She darted to catch it, but it streaked away, spiraling into the night.

Add 'sky' (..spiraling into the night sky) Just because below she is looking up. J

And it took some part of her with it -- a small, lonely spark of light that hadn’t been there before.

You’re doing a great job of building suspense around this feather and its owner. I can’t wait to see who it is! 

Katie remained staring up long after the faintest glimmer had vanished.

Her grandmother’s third call broke the spell over her, and she turned toward home. 

In the house, pots and pans clanked from the kitchen and the smell of sautéed onions and ground beef filled the air – her grandmother starting dinner.

Katie would offer to help, but her Grandma would only usher her away, telling her to go visit her mom. She needed a little more time to work up the courage.

Interesting. This goes along with the mention that today was a secret hideout kind of day

In her room, she slumped to the floor. A year ago, the doctors said her mother had two years to live. The past year had vanished like a word written too close to the ocean’s shore.

LOVE!!!! J

Katie absently lifted both hands to cover her heart. A painful ache started there the day she learned her mother had cancer, and had only grown worse since. She wondered if other girls her age felt this way. She was only twelve but sometimes felt as though she’d lived twelve lifetimes.

This fits perfect. J I guessed middle grade from the voice. Great job!! J

Her cat Coal squeezed in the doorway and rubbed against her sneakers. His eyes met hers and he greeted her with a trilling mew.

“Hi Coal,” Katie said. She stroked his silky black fur. He purred and dropped to his back, looking up at her from half slit eyes.

“It was a rough day,” she said, scratching his stomach. He took her hand between his front paws and licked one of her knuckles, then rolled on his side. His tail hit the carpet in soft thumps.

Is it because she visited her mother earlier or for some other reason? SO curious to know! J You did a fantastic job of weaving little bits of info about you MC and what she is experiencing without dragging me through tons of back story. J And that feather! I’m guessing guardian angel? You’ve caught my interest! J