TITLE OF MANUSCRIPT: Terry and the Folding Rule of Time
GENRE: MG Historical Fantasy
WORD COUNT: 35000
Twelve-year-old Terry Roots plays pranks on her teachers. When she soaks her substitute teacher’s chair, wet and angry Mrs. Klio raises a thunderstorm in the classroom and gives her extra homework. Terry has to find out why her ancestor immigrated to America. When she finds Mrs. Klio's folding rule (a folding measuring stick), she accidentally opens a portal in time.
She lands smack-dab in the path of her great-great-grandfather in 1866 Germany causing him to give up his plans of emigration. When Terry returns to her own time, she finds herself in Germany living with a mother she doesn't know, and none of her former friends remember her. To set things right, she has to return to the past and get her great-great-grandfather on a boat to America, or the family she remembers will vanish forever. And the only person she can turn to is Mrs. Klio, the Muse of History.
This standalone story could be the first in a series.
I am a bilingual author with an interest in history. My German novels are under contract with the agency 'yxz'. My first novel in English was a finalist in the 2010 Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Colorado Gold Contest, and my short story "Wildrose" was a runner up in 2011 in the 80th Writers Digest Writing Competition in the Genre Fiction category. Holly Lisle is my mentor and friend.
First 150 words:
Second bell for science -- I hated old Bodger on the best of days but most of all on Monday mornings. I slammed the door of my locker hard enough that it bounced open again. My magnetic name tag rattled.
TERESA ROOTS -- Mom's idea. She hated my mostly close cropped hair. Chewing on a straw-colored strand of my longer bangs, I closed the locker more gently and sauntered to our classroom. I anticipated old Bodger’s face when he plopped onto a cold, wet chair and smiled a little. Not too much. That would alert him, and he’d guess right away it was me who snuck into class before first bell. I eased into my chair, stretching my gangly legs, feeling smug until the door opened.
Old Bodger hadn't come. A pail of ice cold water ran down my spine when the principal entered instead. His slumped, mousy appearance faded from my mind as I watched the lady that came with him.