Name: Jeff Chen
Genre: Middle grade contemporary
Title: Robot Smackdown
My ponytail clung to my neck like a wet towel, and my lungs burned with fire. I had fought so long I was on the verge of passing out, but I didn’t care. I was going to win this bout.
And I was going to win it by knockout.
I lifted my hammer and swung it hard, wincing as it clanged against a metal strut stupid enough to defy me. Vibrations tore up my arm, but I pushed away the pain and pounded with jabs and body blows, punishing the go-kart frame for its disobedience. I had been battling it for two hours straight, and I would bend it to my will, even if it took all night.
A dozen one-two combinations and a flurry of right crosses later, I collapsed into a dizzy crouch. Sweat dripped off my brow, plinking onto the cement floor as I willed my vision not to go black. The garage came back into focus, and I cracked an eye at the opponent I had beaten into submission. It wasn’t pretty—junky steel tubes, wheels scavenged from office chairs, and dozens of bolts holding everything together—but it would do.
I glanced at the clock hanging on the back wall and bit my lip. Eight o’clock. Where the heck was Walker? Finishing the frame and drive train was a big step, but if he didn’t get here soon with an engine, we’d lose a sale.
And we needed this one.
Bad.
I rubbed the big oil blotch staining the concrete floor, a bittersweet reminder of the days when Dad still had his junker. Still had his job. I wiped a greasy fingertip into the palm of my hand, trying to smear in some good luck.
A rattling noise sounded outside, and I stiffened, jumping to my feet. Tucking a matted-down lick of hair behind my ear, I listened at the garage door as the creaks rolled to a halt. “Walker?” I whispered.
“Yup,” came a high-pitched voice. “Lemme in.”
I worked my fingers under the sharp edges of the garage door and strained against the broken mechanism, fighting the door inch by inch to let a glimmer of moonlight pass under. When I had forced open a two-foot gap, I let out the breath I had been holding and wiped at the sweat stinging my eyes. Thankfully, the cockeyed garage door held in place.
Walker crawled in army man-style, pulling a crooked red wagon behind him. Getting to his feet, he brushed off his jeans and took off his cowboy hat to fix the part in his straight black hair. “You gotta do something about that door. How am I supposed to keep looking awesome when I have to crawl through oil? And we have an important sale to make, you know. Why don't you do something about… uh…” He pointed at the wet patches soaked into my undershirt.
“What?” I grinned as I threw an arm around his neck and shoved his face into my armpit, holding it in place with an iron grip. “Is there a problem?”
Writhing like a dog trying to escape a bath, Walker screeched as he wriggled his way out. “That’s toxic waste! I’m going to report you to the United thingy.” He rubbed both palms over his nose and made fake choking noises.
“The United Nations?” I chuckled. For being as slick as he was, Walker was just about the worst when it came to book learning. “And like you smell any better than me, junkyard boy.” I inspected the wagon’s contents, running a finger over the dusty lawn-mower engine. “Honda two-stroke. Not that old, even. Spark plugs look fine. Not bad.” I checked the clock and winced. Our buyer would be here any minute.
Walker dragged his sleeve across his face one last time in an exaggerated display of disgust. “Here, I’ll help. It’s super heavy.”
I shook my head, lifting the engine with one hand to drop it into the frame. All that pounding and bending paid off, because it fit just about perfectly. “Hand me that drill,” I said as I whacked the frame for a last set of adjustments. “And the number eight bit.”
“Dang,” Walker said, his eyes going wide. “I couldn’t carry that thing with both hands. And both legs.”
I shrugged as I hammered the engine into place. So I was strong for a thirteen-year old. Anyone would be if they had spent the last three years as Dad’s sparring partner. “Hurry it up. Number eight bit.”
Walker pouted as he picked through the pile of tools on the workbench. “What, no ‘Awesome job, way to go, Walker?’ Or, ‘You’re the best scrounger in the entire state of Indiana?’ Don’t you want to hear how I got this beauty? I outdid even myself this time.”
“You didn’t do anything illegal, did you?” I narrowed my eyes at my brother.
He pointed at his chest, his face twisted in mock horror. “Rose, Rose, Rose. Walker the Texas Ranger lives by his cowboy code.” Fetching the electric drill, bands of duct tape barely holding it together, he pointed it at me like a six-shooter. “Pa-pow-pow-pow!”
I gave him a sidelong glance as I took it and chucked up the drill bit. I had only ever seen one episode of “Walker, Texas Ranger,” but I was pretty sure that cowboy guy had a much stricter interpretation of the law than my brother. Placing the tip of the drill against a point I had marked in the frame, I squeezed the trigger, the bit bored in with a burst of orange sparks. “Gimme a half-inch bolt and a matching nut,” I said over the squealing and grinding.
A thought jumped to mind, and I paused, letting the drill die out. I stood to my full height, nearly six feet tall and curled my left hand into a fist. I was in a rush to finish this go-kart, but Dad wasn’t around a lot these days, so someone had to keep Walker in line. “You never answered my question. If you broke any laws, I’m going to break you. So did you?”
Walker smiled. “Would I break any laws?”
“Yes. Did you?”
“You really shouldn’t ask questions if you don’t want to know the answers.”
“How many times do I have to tell you—”
“I know, I know,” Walker said. He opening and closing his hand like it was a puppet’s mouth. “If we don’t keep squeaky clean we’ll get kicked back into the foster system.”
I shoved him. “Come on, take this seriously. We’d get separated—”
“Relax, will you? I was just messing with you. I didn’t do anything illegal.” Walker flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his button-down shirt and pawed through the junk and scraps heaped on the bench. “I just did a little sweet-talking, that’s all. Pulled the ol’ innocent schoolboy act on a nice lady at the junkyard.” He removed his ten-gallon hat and placed it over his heart, widening his almond-shaped eyes as far as they would go. “Could you help me, sweet ma’am? I have a project for science class. I bet you know a lot, and I know so little.” He blinked three times and smiled hard, popping out his trademark cheek dimple.
First Five Pages Writing Workshop: Jump Start Your Novel and Career
Some of the action confused me in the beginning -- "And I was going to win it by knockout." In the context I like this line, but it also made me think of boxing at first and then I got confused with the hammer and the go cart, and I had to reread those paragraphs more to understand the full scenario. Maybe that's just me though? This also made me think of boxing: "one-two combinations and a flurry of right crosses" & "pounded with jabs and body blows." There's more too. Am I misunderstanding it? This line -- "Finishing the frame and drive train was a big step, but if he didn’t get here soon with an engine, we’d lose a sale." -- makes me think the MC was working on a machine (plus the bit about parts). I like the competition vibe and the voice, but if there's any way you can keep that and clarify the action...?
ReplyDelete"So I was strong for a thirteen-year old. Anyone would be if they had spent the last three years as Dad’s sparring partner. “Hurry it up. Number eight bit.”" -- How old is Walker? I get sort of a younger brother vibe from him just because the MC shoves him into her armpits, but his lines make him seem older to me. I guess that could be explained by the bit about sparring partner and what I assume is a dark past between the two of them as they're shunted in the foster care system, but that line (sparring partner and Walker not being as strong as the MC) also makes it sound like Walker's been kept out of the danger. That the MC was the only 'sparring partner,' and Walker's retained some innocence. Any chance of clearing that up? Wait... is the sparring partner bit why the MC uses boxing like lines to describe working on the go-cart? Was he actually just boxing with her and I just overanalyzed that with the foster care bit?
So I don't know if I've been at all helpful, but I think I'm just confused by the action in the beginning, and maybe I'm the only one. If I'm not, clarifying that would help, I think, with the rest of the confusion I have.
There is so much to like here! The image of Rose beating the go-kart into submission is wonderful. And perhaps my favorite line is Walker threatening to report her to the 'United thingy.' :)
ReplyDeleteI love that Rose knows so much about engines, but I had difficulty identifying her as a girl immediately. The ponytail made me wonder if she was female, or just a boy with long hair. Later, when she pushes Walker's face into her armpit, I wondered if they were boyfriend/girlfriend or two guys wrestling. Finding out he was her brother had me making a mental adjustment to that image. It seemed an odd embrace for a sister and a brother, though that could be just me.
I'm assuming Walker is younger, but I'd like to know for sure. I'd also like to know what it is they're building. Is it actually a go-kart, or are they just using the go-kart frame? The title of the book makes me think it could be a robot, which would be super cool!
I am enjoying the dynamic between the two, especially once I found out they were brother and sister. You've managed to pack a lot of info into these first pages. I like the concern about getting kicked back into the system, and getting separated. Sounds like a lot at stake for these two. I am anxious to find out how their sale pans out. I would definitely read more!
After writing up my comments, I read the other comments here, and saw that the others assumed your MC was a girl! I assumed it was a boy (as you'll see below), so I'm sorry if I got that wrong, but I thought it still might be helpful to see my initial reaction so I'll go ahead and include it. In my defense, I thought the "Rose" line had something to do with "Walker, Texas Ranger," which I know is a show, but one I've never seen. Also, when Walker comes in, he calls the MC "junkyard boy" so that sealed the deal in my mind (I admit that I wasn't 100% positive it was a boy). In any case, on to my first thoughts:
ReplyDeleteYou've got a great MG boy voice here, and I love how you immediately grab our attention by thrusting us into action. I did find some of the very beginning confusing, however. While I like how you're using thewrestling/boxing metaphor for the MC's struggle with the go-kart, I have to say that I had a hard time following what was actually going on. After the first paragraph, I thought the MC was in a wrestling match. By the third paragraph, I readjusted to realize that it was a go-kart, but soon after, I started to get confused again when Walker was introduced. At first, it seemed like he was going to be a friend, and then when he got there, he seemed like more of an adult. A few paragraphs down, he's referred to as "my brother," so maybe this information could come sooner. Overall, you might want to consider keeping the very beginning more straightforward so that the reader doesn't have to struggle to visualize the scene.
I also really like the great sense of your character we get in these pages: he's freakishly tall, physically strong, passionate, and has been through some sort of tough time with his brother. These are all great details that definitely get me on his side, so for me, a bit more clarification/simplification of the scene would make him stand out even more.
I love the idea of opening with this “fight” scene but it did take me out of the story for a moment when I had to figure out of the protagonist was fighting an animatronic go-kart or if the battle was just the protagonist beating the hell out of the object. I was pretty happy when later in the narrative I learned the protagonist was female, it made me check my assumptions and gender biases, though can see how it would throw readers. I love the boxing lingo and that Rose has been her father’s sparring partner; it grounds how tough she is. Her knowledge of mechanics is a great surprise and again, it had me checking my assumptions.
ReplyDeleteWalker is a fun character though I was confused about his age. I assumed he was younger but didn’t really get a hit. His relationship to Rose wasn’t clear to me right off, it seemed more buddy than sibling. Their relationship seems to be based on respect and camaraderie. Survival of the foster care system is no small deal either. I’m curious as to how two rather young siblings are running an off-market (I assume) business. The stakes are set but I wouldn’t mind a little more urgency to raise the tension.
I would keep reading, I dig these characters and I’m curious to know more.
HI, Jeff! Thanks for sharing your pages!
ReplyDeleteI think the concept of this story is great--a girl who goes against gender roles and struggles (perhaps) with fitting in because of it...as well as struggling with the caretaker role she's fallen into. This is a unique story concept that I haven't read before.
My biggest concern is regarding the voice, which comes across as a "boy" voice. I hesitate to say that, because obviously a girl can have any voice she wants! But this girl, while convincingly savvy and determined, is a bit too boyish in her actions. The way she describes her frame. The way she embraces her brother. No thirteen year old girl would press a boy (brother or not) into her armpit, right next to her developing chest. Awkward to say the least!
I would challenge you to explore the voice a bit. You have created a fascinating character who is at odds with the world. She likes things girls aren't "supposed" to like. She doesn't look the way a girl is "supposed" to look. A thirteen-year-old girl is acutely aware of how she does or does not fit into her world. Whether she defies fitting, or cringes about her height, or fantasizes about being a boy, or chokes on her humiliation...this girl has a point of view about the way the world sees her. That should color her thoughts about what she's doing, and especially what her frame/body are like. At thirteen, I for example spent approximately one hour each morning trying to hairspray my hair into a very specific shape. It was also a totally lopsided, ridiculous shape. I can see that now, as an adult. But back then, I would have done anything to make my hair fit that shape, because I thought it mattered SO much. What does Rose believe in? What matters to her? These thoughts are never far from any 13yo's mind...although even more front and center with a girl in MG.
Regarding the action of the scene, I find it perfectly interesting! I wouldn't hide the ball quite so much. It's reasonable to tell us what she's working on. In fact, just telling us straight off that she's building a go-kart is much catchier to me than pulling a bait and switch with the "fight" scene. I am interested in this girl because she's an interesting character, not because you're tricking me into caring about the scene.
On that note, I think it's also acceptable to tell a little bit more about the younger brother. Sometimes we make it too hard on ourselves in MG. Let Rose tell us what she thinks of her brother, and she will tell us who he is and how old he is will be a part of that. Everyone who gets driven crazy their younger siblings is acutely aware of their unbearable age!
I would think about offering a deadline, or the idea that they are running late, and let the tension come from that instead of all of the physical aching, sweating, and pain. A little pain is good. Nearly blacking out stretches the realm of believability. Show her to us honestly. Show her sincerity. Show her devotion and determination without the drama. She's a compelling character, so she will be able to fill the page.
Looking forward to reading your revision!
:)
Melanie
Chen Part 1
ReplyDeleteDear Jeff,
Good start with enough suspense to keep the reader going. I like your humor and main character (give him a name?) but I’d caution you against making him too cartoonish/strong. I like his relationship to Walker, but if your main character is 13, does that mean Walker is older? It’s a little hard to imagine Walker being younger, given how he sounds and manipulates the junkyard lady. Maybe we need more description of him? And if it is the case that main character is younger, how does Walker feel about being less strong than his younger brother and taking orders from him? Shouldn’t there be some friction?
Also, I’m a little confused about the foster system part. I thought kids get put in the foster system when the parents mess up. Why would they both get put in the foster system if Walker gets caught stealing? But I think whatever the answer is, it’s an easy fix.
My {sweat-soaked just to be clear it’s not rain or fresh out of a shower?} ponytail clung to my neck like a wet towel, and my lungs burned with fire. I had fought so long I was on the verge of passing out, but I didn’t care. I was going to win this bout.
And I was going to win it by knockout.
I lifted my hammer and swung it hard, wincing as it clanged against a metal strut stupid enough to defy me. Vibrations tore up my arm, but I pushed away the pain and pounded with jabs and body blows, punishing the go-kart frame for its disobedience. I had been battling it for two hours straight, and I would bend it to my will, even if it took all night. {good start. I like the imagery and humor}
A dozen one-two combinations and a flurry of right crosses later, I collapsed {we usually collapse to floors/drop to a crouch?} into a dizzy crouch. Sweat dripped off my brow, plinking onto the cement floor as I willed my vision not to go black. The garage came back into focus, and I cracked an eye at the opponent I had beaten into submission. It wasn’t pretty—junky steel tubes, wheels scavenged from office chairs {for a go-kart? Are you sure?}, and dozens of bolts holding everything together—but it would do.
I glanced at the clock hanging on the back wall and bit my lip. Eight o’clock. Where the heck was Walker? Finishing the frame and drive train was a big step, but if he didn’t get here soon with an engine, we’d lose a sale.
Chen Part 2
ReplyDeleteAnd we needed this one.
Bad.
I rubbed the big oil blotch staining the concrete floor{he uses his hand?}, a bittersweet reminder of the days when Dad {foster father?} still had his junker. Still had his job. I wiped a greasy fingertip into the palm of my hand, trying to smear in some good luck.
A rattling noise sounded outside, and I {stiffened, jumping—kind of opposites, you know?} to my feet. Tucking a matted-down lick of hair behind my ear, I listened at the {closed – for clarity?} garage door as the creaks rolled to a halt. “Walker?” I whispered.
“Yup,” came a high-pitched voice. “Lemme in.”{give narrator a name here?}
I worked my fingers under the sharp edges of the {cockeyed or bent or broken?} garage door and strained against the broken mechanism, fighting {it?} the door inch by inch to let a glimmer of moonlight pass under. When I had forced open a two-foot gap, I let out the breath I had been holding and wiped at the sweat stinging my eyes. Thankfully, the cockeyed garage door {stayed?} held in place. {rework with less references to the door?}
Walker crawled in army man-style, pulling a crooked red wagon {a little hard to picture. Why is it crooked?} behind him. Getting to his feet, he brushed off his jeans and took off his cowboy hat {wait—he crawled under the garage door wearing a cowboy hat?} to fix the part in his straight black hair. “You gotta do something about that door. How am I supposed to keep looking awesome when I have to crawl through oil? And we have an important sale to make, you know. Why don't you do something about… uh…” He pointed at the wet patches soaked into my undershirt.
“What?” I grinned as I threw an arm around his neck and shoved his face into my armpit, holding it in place with an iron grip. “Is there a problem?”
Writhing like a dog trying to escape a bath, Walker screeched as he wriggled his way out. “That’s toxic waste! I’m going to report you to the United thingy.” He rubbed both palms over his nose and made fake choking noises.
Chen Part 3
ReplyDelete“The United Nations?” I chuckled. {For being as slick as he was, Walker was just about the worst when it came to book learning. Awk} “And like you smell any better than me, junkyard boy.{but you just said he was slick?}” I inspected the wagon’s contents, running a finger over the dusty lawn-mower engine. “Honda two-stroke. Not that old, even. Spark plugs look fine. Not bad.” I checked the clock {on wall?}and winced. Our buyer would be here any minute.
Walker dragged his sleeve across his face one last time in an exaggerated display of disgust {wiping sweat? Disgust with what? The BO?}. “Here, I’ll help. It’s super heavy.”
I shook my head, lifting the engine with one hand {do you want him to sound like a super-hero? Does it threaten to become cartoonish} to drop it into the frame. All that pounding and bending {had?} paid off, because it fit just about perfectly. {whoa. But he didn’t know what kind of engine Walter was bringing home. Does that sound a bit lucky?}
{insert Dang lines here?}
“Hand me that drill,” I said as I whacked {why whack it?} the frame for a last set of adjustments. “And the number eight bit.”
{“Dang,” Walker said, his eyes going wide. “I couldn’t carry that thing with both hands. And both legs.” Insert above. Otherwise it seems like Walker is talking about the drill}
I shrugged as I hammered the engine into place {sorry, but if it fit almost perfectly, why’s he hammering it?}. So I was strong for a thirteen-year old. Anyone would be if they had spent the last three years as Dad’s sparring partner. “Hurry it up. Number eight bit.”
Walker pouted as he picked through the pile of tools on the workbench. “What, no ‘Awesome job, way to go, Walker?’ Or, ‘You’re the best scrounger in the entire state of Indiana?’ Don’t you want to hear how I got this beauty? I outdid even myself this time.”
“You didn’t do anything illegal, did you?” I narrowed my eyes at my brother. {transpose lines for more impact?}
He pointed at his chest, his face twisted in mock horror. “Rose, Rose, Rose. Walker the Texas Ranger lives by his cowboy code.” Fetching the electric drill, bands of duct tape barely holding it together, he pointed it at me like a six-shooter. “Pa-pow-pow-pow!”
Chen Part 4
ReplyDeleteI gave him a sidelong glance as I took it and chucked up the drill bit. I had only ever seen one episode of “Walker, Texas Ranger,” but I was pretty sure that cowboy guy had a much stricter interpretation of the law than my brother {maybe we should know this a little sooner?}. Placing the tip of the drill against a point I had marked in the frame, I squeezed the trigger, the bit bored in with a burst of orange sparks. “Gimme a half-inch bolt and a matching nut,” I said over the squealing and grinding.
A thought jumped to mind, and I paused, letting the drill die out. I stood to my full height, nearly six feet tall and curled my left hand into a fist {a threat?}. I was in a rush to finish this go-kart, but Dad wasn’t around a lot these days, so someone had to keep Walker in line. “You never answered my question. If you broke any laws, I’m going to break you. So did you?” {Just curious, is our unnamed narrator younger than Walker? If he is, shouldn’t this be mentioned? It would be both unusual and make the story more interesting}
Walker smiled. “Would I break any laws?”
“Yes. Did you?”
“You really shouldn’t ask questions if you don’t want to know the answers.”
{Does he feel anger? Disappointment?} “How many times do I have to tell you—”
“I know, I know,” Walker said. He {what’s missing here?}opening and closing his hand like it was a puppet’s mouth {do you really want the reader imagining this? Why?}. “If we don’t keep squeaky clean we’ll get kicked back into the foster system.”
{A little confused. Are they in his real dad’s garage or foster dad’s garage? Did he box with his real dad? Don’t kids get put in the foster system if the parents do something wrong?}
I shoved him. “Come on, take this seriously. We’d get separated—”
“Relax, will you? I was just messing with you. I didn’t do anything illegal.” Walker flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his button-down shirt and pawed through the junk and scraps heaped on the bench. “I just did a little sweet-talking, that’s all. Pulled the ol’ innocent schoolboy act on a nice lady at the junkyard.” He removed his ten-gallon hat and placed it over his heart, widening his almond-shaped eyes as far as they would go. “Could you help me, sweet ma’am? I have a project for science class. I bet you know a lot, and I know so little.” He blinked three times and smiled hard, popping out his trademark cheek dimple. {like it}
Jeff, I read this twice and I liked it. Is your protagonist named Rose? If so, that's a nice surprise because it is so masculine in the beginning I immediately thought of a male. And her brother is Walker? Maybe we should let people know that Walker is her brother sooner.
ReplyDeleteYou have a very good voice and a nice, assured pace. The writing flows smoothly. I really don't have a lot to suggest. Upon first reading, I thought you might just want to begin with:
I lifted my hammer and swung it hard, wincing as it clanged against a metal strut stupid enough to defy me.
But on second read I thought your opening works well as is. I know this is tough because you get a lot of differing comments. If you keep hearing the same one over and over you might want to consider it.
As for me, I really liked it, and once again, I think your voice is very assured.
Good stuff!