Bring Stacey to Life

Rejection after rejection means time for a rewrite! A big one.

I emailed a close friend of my sister's, the only published author I know personally. Todd Mitchell, of toddmitchellbooks.com, was very considerate and gave me some detailed advice. (Thanks!) He teaches, writes YA and has attended several conferences for MG fiction as well. He pointed out that Stacey still needed to come much further into focus. He advised that if it's an MG book, it must begin strongly with an MG character, not with adults like Tim or an aloof magician.

However, everyone else who had read the novel by now, or at least the opening (thanks wife, sis, Ross, Paul, Ben) thought the magician was great, if not an essential focus. Was there enough room in the beginning for both? I even considered rewriting the book from the magician's POV so he and Stacey could share the spotlight. But when it comes down to it, I decided the magician is a secondary character. Also the Stacey-focus was consistent with the first draft and my initial instincts. I just hope this latest, slightest mention of the magician goes a long way.

Then I really tried to get in Stacey's head and describe her thoughts and feelings. I also tried to bring Greg and Wally in sooner. Greg, the bully, might be my favorite character, a close second would be Wally, Stacey's best friend. Both are fun to write and happen to be MG kids. Also I was hung up on Chapter titles so I axed them for now.

Here's the first 2 Chapters. This version was finished late January 2013:

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Flywings
©2012 Ryan P. Standley

Chapter 1:

Not long ago, a flying hero fascinated the world. And this was real, not some comic book or movie. An unknown being swooped down from the sky and saved the day. Seriously, it was all over the news. People were shocked. They didn’t know what or who could possibly fly like that. Some thought, maybe an alien, or a huge bird, but most people called it an angel.

They had no idea it was just a plain old girl flying around up there. Her name was Stacey Krell, and she was minding her own business long before magic came along.

Stacey was a normal kid with a big imagination who played dress up and talked to her dolls. She dreamed about monsters and princesses, drew tons of pictures and kept one entirely completed coloring book, even with the backgrounds colored in. She cuddled stuffed animals, danced at ballet class, cooked with a mini oven, and jumped rope. And she had friends—tons of friends—but they were gone now.

Well actually, the friends didn’t go anywhere. They stayed in Chicago, while Stacey moved far away to Arlington, Massachusetts. She left her Grandma behind, and her cousins, aunts and uncles. Stacey had begged not to move.

She didn’t want to start all over. Find a new house, and new school. Pack all her toys into boxes and say goodbye. She was afraid of being lonely. Stacey hadn’t the slightest idea how to make new friends. Her old friends had been around since before she could remember.

Even after three whole days at her new school, Stacey was still friendless. She stood nervously still in the school parking lot, which was also a playground. Hopscotch and foursquare games were painted on the blacktop. Kids hid behind the teachers’ cars, laughed, threw balls and ran around like crazy. Their parents and nannies gradually arrived and took them home. Saint Joseph Elementary School towered over all of this. Its dark bricked walls cast a cool shadow across the asphalt.

Stacey glanced over her shoulder. Every once in a while, she sensed someone watching her. She felt like a statue at a museum, with kids staring, pointing, whispering, but not getting too close. Stacey knew that she stuck out. It was a small school and Stacey was the only 2nd grader who wasn’t there for Kindergarten or 1st grade. Everybody had already made their friends in those early grades, Stacey thought. What was she supposed to do now? She sighed and kept an eye out for her dad, who would pick her up any minute now.

“A little help here!” an older boy yelled. His sudden presence startled Stacey. He was a lanky, strong boy with a few teeth missing and an ugly smirk. A nasty spaghetti stain covered nearly half of his blue school uniform shirt.

“Right there, dummy,” the boy pointed. “Pick it up!”

How, rude, Stacey thought. She looked down at a green rubber football by her feet, slowly leaned over and tossed it to the boy.

The boy caught the ball and chucked it into the sky. He lingered there for a moment, just to be noticed, so Stacey would be impressed by his throw or something. Kind of creepy, Stacey decided. She broke his gaze and kept watch for her dad.

Tim Krell was on his way from work. As long as Stacey could remember he had worked nights for United Express, or UnEx for short. His job was Quality-Control Clerk, the same one he had in Chicago. Every day he researched the addresses of lost and mislabeled packages. And after a parcel was kept for two weeks, and the address was still unknown, sometimes Tim kept it!

Stacey remembered once when Tim brought home a huge box of red gumballs. Another time he got hundreds of bags of fruit snacks. On Valentine’s Day he took home roses. And for Fourth of July, glow sticks! Tim was always very tired and covered in warehouse dust, but at least he got some goodies once in a while, Stacey thought.

Stacey groaned. The annoying boy with the football was back. She avoided him this time and crossed the blacktop. Stacey yawned and fiddled with the buttons of her plaid jumper. The pretty little girl had tan skin, chin-length dark hair and her mom’s striking hazel eyes. She squinted through the sunshine and smiled when she spotted her dad waving at her from his car.

“Hi, sweetie,” Tim smiled.

“Hi, Dad!” Stacey laughed. She ran over, opened the car door and hopped inside. “Why aren’t we walking?” she asked. “Our house is like a block away.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Tim yawned. “I’m tired. How was your third day of school?”

“Good,” Stacey smiled and buckled up.

“Making friends?” Tim asked.

“No,” Stacey frowned.

“Oh, come on,” Tim yawned. “There’s got to be somebody. You mean you didn’t say a word to anybody all day?”

“Well, there is this one boy,” she said, “Wally. He sits by me and talks and talks all day about bugs and frogs and stuff.”

“Cool,” Tim smiled and started the car. “Give it time, Stace. You’ll make friends.”

Two minutes later their old Volkswagen Jetta pulled up to their newly purchased tiny blue house. It had a large front porch, living room, kitchen, and three bedrooms were upstairs. In the backyard was another porch, garage and a swing-set. A playroom and a workshop were in the basement. Every room had cardboard boxes, packing tissue and random stuff scattered all over.

“Aren’t we done unpacking yet?” Stacey groaned.

“Almost,” Tim smiled. “You look tired.”

“So do you,” Stacey said. “Let’s relax a bit.”

“Sounds good,” Tim yawned. “It’s going to be tough getting a nap in once your little brother is born, you know.” Tim paused and wiped the sweat off his receding hairline. “Things will totally change.”

The baby, Stacey remembered. Hard to believe he would be born in a few months. Stacey thought about the diapers, the bottles, the crying. She pictured her mom working at her new job with a big belly that kept getting bigger.

“How big is that baby now?” Stacey asked.

“Tiny,” Tim smiled, “Probably about the size of an apple.”

“That’s it?” Stacey said.

“Babies are little,” Tim chuckled, “When you were born you only weighed 7 pounds.”

Stacey laughed, “Babies are so cute and tiny!”

Tim nodded in agreement and then they both flopped onto the couch. Stacey watched cartoons while Tim kicked off his boots and stretched out for a nap.

“That baby will be my friend, right?” Stacey asked.

“Oh, totally,” Tim smiled. “Even better, he’ll be your brother. He’ll always be there no matter what.”

Stacey smiled. Her dad always cheered her up. And the couch felt good after a long day of school. She sank into the brown suede upholstery.

“Can I cuddle you, Dad?” she asked.

“Sure,” Tim smiled.

Stacey laid her head on Tim’s lap. His UnEx sweatshirt and pants were dirty, warn, and very soft and Stacey slowly closed her eyes. Tim rested his hand on her shoulder and then patted her dark hair.

“Whoa!” Tim exclaimed.

“What?” Stacey said, “What happened?”

A rice-shaped bug crawled along Stacey’s scalp! Tim smashed the insect between his fingertips and then found another. And another!

“Get up! Go!” Tim said urgently. “Let’s go outside.”

“What is it dad? What?” Stacey screamed.

“You’ve got a bunch of bugs in your hair!”

“What?” Screaming, Stacey raced out the backdoor and into the backyard. She was stunned—she hadn’t felt anything crawling in her hair! What were they doing up there? Eating her brains? Stacey leaned over and shook her head, and then picked through her hair with her fingers. And there one was! It looked like tiny flick of paper at first. It wasn’t that scary at all. Then she saw its legs move! “I see one!” she yelled, “I see one! Dad! It’s right there! Get it.”

“Hold still,” Tim said, grabbed and squished in his fingers. “Good. Got it.”

“Here’s another,” Stacey said.

“Got it,” Tim said. He parted Stacey’s hair. “There’s a ton more near the roots!” He grabbed his cellphone and called Stacey’s mom at work.

“Claire?” Tim said, “What do I do? I think Stacey has lice.”

“Oh, no! That’s terrible!” Claire yelled. Stacey heard her panicked voice over the phone and hoped she was overreacting.

That evening, Stacey sat on the back porch and Claire sat on the step behind her. Her pregnant belly pushed into Stacey’s back as she repeatedly ran a fine metal comb through Stacey’s wet hair. Stacey hated getting her hair brushed. Every few seconds the comb stuck and jerked back her neck.

“Ouch!” Stacey whined, “That hurt!”

“Be still,” Claire said. “I’m sorry, but the more you pout the longer this will take.”

“It’s already taking hours!” Stacey groaned.

“Relax, Stacey. It hasn’t been that long. Just be calm,” Claire sighed. “These little bugs will be annoying for a week or so, but they’ll go away.”

“I didn’t even see that many bugs,” Stacey said.

“Oh, there was a bunch,” Claire said, “But then there’s also little eggs, hundreds of them, called nits. They’re super small, and glued to the root of your hair. So now I have to comb through and try to find them all. It’s impossible.”

“Then stop,” Stacey said, “There’s nothing wrong with bugs. I like bugs.”

“You don’t want bugs living on your head!” Claire laughed. “That’s gross!”

“But bugs are a part of nature, Mom,” Stacey said. “They probably came from Africa or something?”

“Africa, huh?” Claire chuckled. “No, not that far. They probably came from school.”

“Vacuuming is done,” Tim announced and stepped onto the back porch. His head shined like diamond.

“Whoa, Dad!” Stacey exclaimed, “Your hair’s totally gone!”

“Yep,” Tim said, “Shaved it. I can shave yours too if you’re tired of combing.”

“No way!” Stacey said.

“Find any bugs in the house?” Claire asked.

“Nope,“ Tim said, “I sprayed the rugs with insecticide though, just in case, and I threw Stacey’s dolls and stuffed animals into garbage bags—”

“My stuffed animals!” Stacey exclaimed. “You can’t throw them away!”

“No, no, no. I wouldn’t do that,” Tim said. “There could be lice on them though. They’ll have to stay in plastic bags for a couple weeks.”

“What?” Stacey yelled, “Couple weeks? But what am I going to sleep with tonight?”

Tim smiled, “How about when Mom’s done with your hair, we go to the toy store and pick out a new one?”

“Okay!” Stacey grinned.

“Tim, don’t forget,” Claire said, “You have to comb out my hair.”

“Right. I’ll find another comb,” Tim said and went back inside the house.

“Almost done?” Stacey asked her Mom.

“Not quite,” Claire said.

“What should I get at the toy store?” Stacey grinned. “Maybe some new sidewalk chalk or bubbles? No, I know, cool sunglasses.”

“What?” Claire said. “You have to get a stuffed animal to snuggle, you goofball. That’s the whole point.”

“Okay,” Stacey smiled, “Maybe a unicorn then, or a puppy.”

Stacey suddenly felt a poke in her back.

“Ouch!” Stacey and Claire exclaimed simultaneously. Then Claire grabbed her stomach.

“Stacey, did you feel that?”

“Yeah!” Stacey said. “Why did you poke me?”

“No,” Claire laughed. “I didn’t. Your little brother just kicked you!”

Stacey smiled. “Really? That is so cool! That little baby wanted to say hello!” She turned and kissed Claire’s belly. “Hi, baby.”

“Thanks, honey,” Claire smiled. “Such a good big sis. Now turn back around so I can finish combing, please.”

Stacey watched the sky turn slightly pink as the sun began to set. She winced when the comb got stuck again. This lice thing was bad news, she thought. Plus being the new kid at school! Stacey was having the worst week ever.

But little did she know, that her troubles had just fulfilled two parts of a magical spell. As miles away, a magician sent a parcel that he was destined to lose.


Chapter 2:

The next day at school, Stacey stared out the window and wished she was outside. It was a beautiful summer day, a calm breeze, the leaves blowing in the trees, and not a cloud in the sky. Her classroom was on the second floor with windows overlooking the parking lot. She’d be down there soon, she thought, waiting for her dad and avoiding that mean boy. Stacey snapped out of her stare as her teacher spoke.

“Congratulations, kids! We have completed our first full week of school!” announced Ms. Doherty. The teacher was a bit older than Tim, Stacey thought, with brown hair down to her waist, round glasses, and a beautiful smile.

“But this is our second week,” a boy said.

“This is your first full week,” Ms. Doherty clarified. “Pay attention. Last week you had a half-day. And for your great efforts each of you will get a fancy new sticker on your homework folders!

“Also, I’m going to hang up the Picture of the Week. Everyone’s pictures are so good!” While speaking Ms. Doherty clumsily stood on a chair and tacked up a large painting of a horse above the dry erase board. “Great job, Sebastian. Look at that pony! With gorgeous blue hair! I wish I had hair like that. I’d look cool, right?”

Stacey giggled and Ms. Doherty continued.

“And guess what else? You all have behaved so well, that I am going to put three marbles in the good behavior jar. Remember, when the jar is full we get a pizza party!” The marbles loudly plunked as Ms. Doherty dropped them into the glass container.

“You have to behave everyday, or else I take marbles out. Got it?” Ms. Doherty said. “Looks like we have 6 minutes before the bell rings, so let’s do the name game. Stacey, you start.”

“My name is Stacey,” she grinned. “Stacey starts with S, like star.”

“Too easy, right?” Ms. Doherty smiled, “Next.”

“My name is Lynette,” the curly blonde said. “Lynette starts with L, like love.”

“My name is Wally,” the puny boy said. “Wally starts with W, like water.”

“Wally,” Ms. Doherty asked, “What is that in your hand?”

“Cellphone,” Wally shrugged.

“Oh, no!” Ms. Doherty frowned. “I can’t have those in my classroom. That’s a rule. I’m allergic to cellphones.”

“Huh?” Wally murmured.

“Yep,” Ms. Doherty nodded. “True story. If I touch one, I break out in hives. I’m also allergic to video games. And those rubber bracelets, the ones kids wear up their wrists? Yep, can’t touch those either. I found out the hard way. I used to teach high school and most of those kids had cellphones. This is my first elementary school phone. I can’t believe it. Please everybody, don’t bring any phones or those other things I mentioned into the classroom, ok? I don’t want to get sick.”

“What in the heck are you talking about?” Wally said. “That’s impossible.”

“Hold it right there!” Ms. Doherty snapped. “I don’t want to hear that phrase! Nobody says ‘what the hay’, ‘what in the world’ or ‘what in the anything’ in here, got it? It sounds terribly disrespectful. Makes me cringe. Say it again, I take a marble out.”

“How can you be allergic to a phone?” Wally persisted.

“I don’t know,” Ms. Doherty shrugged. “Strange isn’t it? Doctors can’t explain it. It’s just one of those things.”

“Like magic or something,” Stacey wondered.

“I never thought of it as magic,” Ms. Doherty smiled. “But if you can’t explain it with science, then I suppose you could call it magic. Now, c’mon. Back to the name game. Andrea, hit it.”

“My name is Andrea,” A dark haired girl said. “Andrea starts with A, like ant.”

The name game made it around to the last kid and the bell rang. Stacey grabbed her backpack and stood in line by the door.

“What do you think, Stacey?”

Stacey turned and found Wally standing behind her whispering.

“About what” Stacey asked.

“That cellphone mumbo jumbo Ms. Doherty was saying,” Wally said. “Nobody is allergic to a cellphone. I bet you she has one in her pocket right now.”

“Well allergies are kind of funny sometimes,” Stacey said. “My grandma can eat oranges, but she’s allergic to orange juice. That doesn’t make sense, right?”

“There’s got to be an explanation,” Wally said, “There’s an explanation for everything.”

“Even magic?” Stacey asked.

“No such thing as magic,” Wally smiled.

“What!” Stacey exclaimed. “How can you say that?”

“I’ve never seen magic, have you?” Wally grinned. “Maybe I’ll believe it if I see it, but I have seen a lot of crazy stuff before, and none of it was magic.”

“Like what stuff?” Stacey said, unsure whether to believe Wally.

“Totally awesome stuff,” Wally said, raising his thin red eyebrows. “But it’s a secret.”

“A secret?” Stacey said, “Then why are you telling me about it?”

“I didn’t tell you anything,” Wally said, “I just said I knew one.”

“Well you can’t talk about a secret without telling it to me,” Stacey smiled.

“Oh no, “ Wally said, “I’m good at keeping secrets. I’m not saying another word.”

“What? Come on!” Stacey said. “What crazy stuff are you talking aobout? Give me a clue at least.”

“Nope,” Wally laughed. “No way. Never.”

“Let’s go!” Ms. Doherty announced. In single file, the class walked out the door, down the hall to the exit. Wally and his secrets, Stacey thought, what a goof. Who knows how much of that was the truth. But she did like talking to him. Stacey stepped outside and kept an eye out for the rude boy, but instead caught eyes with her dad and ran to him.

[end]