Dear Secret Agent,
High school is tough—especially when your boyfriend is gay.
Alicia Cruz and Savannah Parker would never be seen at the same lunch table. Alicia speaks only when she has to, wears her clothes extra large, and clings to any guy that gives her the time of day. Savannah, on the other hand, is a tad vulgar, wears attire that hugs her curves, but falls for the one guy who hasn’t literally thrown himself at her. These two girls have nothing in common. Until they discover their boyfriends are lovers.
Austin Hayden has gone emo. He quit the football team, started a band, and now headlines his school’s lame production of Hairspray. He meets Alicia, and she’s cool. And needy. But just the right amount of distraction to conceal his secret. A secret that only Savannah knows, and this kills Austin. So he sets his sights on her new boyfriend. Vengeance is a bitch.
Wants is a contemporary YA novel, complete at approximately 68,000 words, that spans over the course of a school year and enters the point-of-view of each character in this “love square.” It not only dissects the anatomy of heartbreak, but it also examines the frustrations of discovering and coming to terms with one’s own identity.
I have been a guest blogger for YA Highway, and my topic was on GLBTQ issues in YA literature. As a school counselor, I have seen firsthand the many self-doubt and sacrifices that students have to encounter when taken to task about their sexual identity. I’m currently completing my MFA in creative writing at Fairleigh Dickinson University, where I also work as a reader for the school’s literary magazine. Additionally, I am a member of SCBWI and AWP.
I have pasted the first ten pages of my manuscript per your guidelines. Your consideration would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you,
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It’s not that I’m ugly or anything. There’s just a lot of me to love. I mean, a lot. For Christmas, I got a pair of skinny dark-blue jeans. The ones I’ve seen on display at my favorite store forever. The ones that made the mannequin’s ass perk up like bunny ears. My mom bought a size twelve. I couldn’t even pull them up past my thighs. I just told my mom that I was waiting for the right time to wear them. Most women in my family are curvy anyway, but my curves were hidden by jiggle and bloat.
“More cushion for the pushin’,” Austin would say to me in his best faux-Texas drawl, cupping one of my butt cheeks. Which meant that because of my affection for all things sugary and fried, I had a great ass. Or at least that I should stop strategically tying jackets around my waist. After all, it did land me Austin.
And I wouldn’t let anyone forget that. I made sure to take my usual spots at all his rock shows—front and center, almost hugging the stage. He’d catch my eye and wink, and I’d get lightheaded like a tween at a Disney-sponsored concert. But that was okay because it was Austin and everyone wanted some kind of attention from Austin. And I knew he was all too willing to give them what they wanted.
