ShaynaGrissomAuthor

 It's Pitchwars 2020! Every year, a group of agented writers mentor unagented writers in a contest. It is a huge event in the writing community. More information can be found here:  http://pitchwars.org/new-start-here/ The mentor's wish list can be found here:  https://pitchwars.org/pitch-wars-2020-mentor-blog-hop/ I try to participate every year. There are multiple benefits outside of the agent showcase. Making writer friends may not seem like a *huge* perk, but it really is. One, friends are nice.  Secondly, and most importantly: Books are not made by one person! I work with critique partners. I work with multiple editors for every project. I have beta readers. I have a manager. There is not one point in time where someone isn't holding my hand through a project. The wider a writer's network, the greater the opportunities are to make my stories the best they can be. So, I have to pick four out of a ton of mentors to submit to by the 27th. Fortunately for me, the Gothi

  I never notice the elevation change as you drive through the mountains. The only thing that tips me off is the jolt of the pop in my ears. Blue mountain’s majesty, my ass. What was worse? My girlfriend kicking me out, or the awkward one-sided conversation with someone I hadn’t seen since I was ten? “Plenty of fish in the sea,” my brother said. My side-eye wasn’t enough to stop his attempts at playing dad. I leaned back in the seat and pretended I was asleep. “Plenty of fish…” My brother’s sage virgin wisdom passed down by our father, no doubt. Not like Dad was any better with relationships. The sun burned through my closed eyelids. I wasn’t fooling anyone. I sat up, and as we passed under the shadow of the mountain, the scent of snapdragons blew through the vents. “Hey, do you remember—” “The woman in the shack? Grandpa shit a brick when we told him someone was living there.” It wasn’t something a person could forget. As children, we were told to never speak to stranger