And
for those who didn’t make it in, remember that this is all subjective. If
you’re unsure about your opening, consider entering AYAP’s First Five Pages Workshop, which runs monthly, for some extra guidance!

And now, presenting:

THE TOP FIVE ENTRIES!

Author: Maggie Hasbrouck
Genre: YA Contemporary
First Page: 


My mother and every other woman who lives on Muriel Avenue gets
paid to have sex; that’s just how it is. When I was in the fourth-grade
and just beginning to grasp the true nature of my family’s business,
snot-nosed Tyler Williams shoved it in my face. I suppose you could say I
was naïve, but back then I didn’t know all the things that could go
wrong. I didn’t know about the dark side of people or that a single can
of wasp spray could turn the whole world upside-down. Back then, I
thought Tyler Williams, with his big mouth and strawberry blond
buzz-cut, was the worst thing I’d ever face.

We were barely one week into the school year when Tyler decided to
notice me. We were in the basement cafeteria, surrounded by the smell of
pine-scented cleaner and canned spaghetti. I was still sweaty from
recess. “So,” Tyler pushed up the sleeves of his dingy, button-up
oxford. “Where do you live?”

What’s it to you, I should have said. “Muriel Avenue,” I answered.

He was blank for just a second, and then he puffed out his chest and
smiled like some kind of stupid lizard or maybe a blowfish. “Muriel
Avenue?” he turned to look directly at me.

“Yeah,” I took a bite of my cheese and mustard sandwich.

“So,” he announced to the entire table, “you’re a slut.”

No kidding, I thought. “Yeah,” I said with a mouthful of sandwich. “I
mean technically I’m not old enough yet, but my mother’s a real slut.
Somebody in the family has to be, or you don’t get to live there.”

Author: Christy C
Genre: YA Sci-Fi
First Page:

The gun clicks and I smile.

So much for acting like a professional.

“It’s oddly exhilarating, isn’t it,” my mentor Chloe says. 

The charcoal black pistol fits perfectly in my palm. Sleek, classy,
dangerous. If it weren’t for the museum inventory number attached to the
trigger, I would have thought Chloe swiped the gun off the set of a
period drama.

The pistol is cold, even through the protective layer of my latex
gloves. I shiver, losing a battle with goosebumps. My body has forgotten
it’s always 23.5 degrees Celsius in lab. I suppose it’s still a
comfortable step up from the -270 degree environment outside our space
station windows.

“All finished Lia?” Chloe asks.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Here you go.” My fingers uncurl reluctantly from the artifact.

Following museum protocol, Chloe takes the gun with gloved fingers. The
lid to its velvet-lined casing closes with a quiet hiss, locking
automatically. She scans the barcode etched on the front of the box,
directing Male_A077’s possessions to the correct shelving unit. “That’s
the last container belonging to our pirating friend.”

“I’ll bet he never imagined the contents of his pockets would be so
thoroughly analyzed,” I say, disposing used gloves in the neon orange
burn box by my feet. I would leave a great impression on a future
scientist studying the 33rd century if they found the half eaten granola
bar stashed in my purse.

Author: Amanda Perry
Genre: YA Other
First Page:

They say the devil was once an angel, no one knew this to be true so well as Evelyn Wharton.

It came as no surprise when Evelyn’s father said he no longer wanted
her; he was never around all that often to begin with. No sooner had the
services for her mother— and would have been sister— ended was she
deposited into a carriage and whisked away from the city, a place she’d
called home for almost seventeen years. It all happened in a
hairsbreadth of time, but that’s how it was with change. It came on
sudden and fast like a storm, leaving only silent chaos behind. Placing
her hand on the cool glass, Evelyn watched through rain soaked windows
as the gas lamps of Philadelphia disappeared behind her.

Settling back on the velvet bench, she pulled the blankets tighter
around her lap hoping to stave off the chill that fought to sneak in
through cracks around the door. The horses’ hooves beat against
cobblestone, the noise becoming less obtrusive once they reached
hard-packed earth. The relative quiet, however, did little to soothe her
nerves.Evelyn shifted in her seat. There wasn’t much sense in trying to
close her eyes.Exhaustion threatened to steal her away, but every time
her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, memories of her mother’s
lifeless face startled her back to consciousness..

A sharp tap on the front of the carriage interrupted her thoughts,
followed by a voice  “Ms. Wharton, you doing alright in there?”

“Oh Harrison,” She huffed, “ Call me Evy, we’re far enough away from home that even father can’t hear you now.”

Harrison merely nodded before turning his attention to the reins, his
silhouette marrying the darkness once again. Evelyn leaned back,
thankful that he at least was with her, making her feel less alone.

The ride to Batsto Village was long and rocky and at some point, Evelyn
drifted off. Maybe it was the sound of the rain on the roof, the steady
beat of the horses’ shoes slapping the mud, or the sway of the carriage
that had lulled her to sleep. Whatever it was, she hadn’t slept so well
in days. She had been sleeping so soundly in fact that she hadn’t even
realized they’d stopped.

Gathering her skirts in one hand Evelyn stood, albeit hunched over in
the small space, and pushed the carriage door open. Rainwater had
settled into the hinges causing it to creak, and she made a mental note
to have someone see to its repair immediately. Bright rays of sunlight
welcomed her, causing Evelyn to squint as her booted foot felt around
for the first step. She hated maneuvering in and out of this thing.

“Ms. Wharton,” Harrison’s rich voice greeted her, “allow me.” She felt a
firm hand grip her elbow and guide her easily to the ground.

Author: J.A. Ward
Genre: YA Contemporary
First Page:

Three months ago I watched a stranger die, so I know what death looks
like. In fact, I remember what it sounds like, what it feels like, too.
That’s how I know the disheveled guy sprawled across my grandfather’s
front porch is, most certainly, not dead.

There’s no blood on his clothes, just a film of dust on his jeans and
yellowing stains in the pits of his wrinkled, white T-shirt. He reeks of
grass clippings and sweat. Nothing like the smell of singed rubber or
sunbaked asphalt that tends to rise up in my nightmares of The Accident.

Even in the dim porch light, I can make out the well-worn drum sticks
poking out from my best friend, Jesse Cooper’s, back pocket. I sigh,
sliding my hand over the underside of the nearby rocking chair to
release the key from its hiding place. Of course, I wouldn’t even have
to question if it was him or not if he’d just go inside like I instruct
him to every time we meet here for band practice.

“Naptime’s over, Cooper,” I say, nudging his shoulder with my foot. One
of his hands stutters in response, dirt-stained and callused. It
triggers the memory of small fingers twitching in the fading sunlight,
and I have to look away. I shove the key into the lock, focusing all of
my concentration on opening the front door. Anything that keeps my brain
occupied, no matter the insignificance, is a temporary relief.

This is what it’s been like for the past eighty-eight days.

Author: Megan Snyder
Genre: YA Fantasy
First Page:

Somehow she lived for almost 23 years without hearing of it. Not a
word, not a mere breath of the curse was whispered by anyone in the
kingdom. But still it hid. It hid behind crooked smiles and thinly
veiled courtier contempt. Then again, her father had always been stuffed
with secrets. They sat on his brow, crusted onto his fingers, belted
around his waist that steadily grew outwards. Her mother carried little
secrets too, sewn into the linings of her gowns, undetected. Scullery
maids whispered behind their worn hands and butlers laughed too loudly
to cover the sounds of their secrets in the taverns after work. It
seemed that the only beings in the realm of Tollauré devoid of mystery
were the crown princesses, Giathien and Medelyn.

Princess Gia felt it on a cloudy day, down by the harbor. The breeze
just brushed past her cheek, smelling of sea salt and incense from the
vendors around her. It prickled, just under the skin of her right cheek.
But she paid it no mind, towing her younger sister behind her in their
search for the perfect gift for their mother.

“Meddy, keep up with me or you won’t get any sweets.” Gia teased her
younger sister who clung to her hand and trotted behind her, auburn
curls bouncing around her chubby cheeks, and wide eyes trying to catch
glimpses of everything around her.

“But, Gia, you promised! You said I could have the luluberry pies
and…and…cocoa things! You promised!” She stopped suddenly in the middle
of the street and Meddy ran into the backs of her legs, almost falling
over if it hadn’t been for their clutched hands.

The itch had started again, gaining intensity just beneath the surface
of her skin, pulsing like a bee sting. Gia raised her fingertips to her
cheek but didn’t touch the skin. Heat radiated out, warming her hands
despite the summer sun beating down on them already.

“Gia?” Medelyn came around in front of her sister, worry lacing her
sweet little voice. She was only five, Gia’s darling little sister.
Despite their mother’s attention to her, she was Gia’s little girl and
she took care of her, more mother than sister. “Are you alright?” Meddy
asked Gia, a slight quiver in her voice. The girl’s big green eyes
stared up at her sister and Gia put her own discomfort aside to lift her
sister up to her hip.