Query:
Dear Writer's Voice,
Makenna Reid has never had a best friend, finished two
grades in the same school, or lived in a house without wheels. In her eleven
years as a Coast Guard brat, Mack has learned not to get too close to anything
or anyone—until her family is transferred to Seward, Alaska (a.k.a. The Armpit
of the Universe) and she moves in across the street from Travis O’Connell.
Travis and his sisters are living Mack’s worst nightmare, a
parent lost at sea. When Mack overhears a fisherman who miraculously survived a
terrible accident raving about “the seal people,” she comes to suspect that the
icy waters of Resurrection Bay are hiding a secret—one that may be connected to
the disappearance of Travis’s father. She becomes determined to uncover the truth
and restore her friend’s family. As they search for answers together, Travis
and the other residents of Bear Lake RV Park help Mack tear down the walls
around her heart and begin to carve out a place in the world for herself.
When tragedy strikes again, Mack and Travis undertake a
dangerous rescue to save someone they both love. If they succeed, they might
both find the thing they want most in the place they least expected.
Complete at 50,000 words, TRUE NORTH is a middle-grade novel
with a touch of magical realism. I am a reformed Coast Guard brat turned middle
school librarian, and I lived for two years in the small Alaska town where TRUE
NORTH is set. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
Wendy Daughdrill
First 250:
The first thing I notice about
Alaska is the dog poop. It's all over everything, filling the ditches and
studding the piles of gritty snow that line the curb. Gross. I unbuckle my seatbelt and stand up between my parents in
the front seats of the van, trying to get a better look at the place that will
be my home for the next two years. I pull off my headphones and let them dangle
around my neck.
I have the weirdest feeling that we have driven through a portal
into a black-and-white movie. All the color has somehow leached out of the
world, leaving everything varying shades of gray. Gray streets lined with gray
buildings slope down toward the icy waters of Resurrection Bay. On every side,
slate-colored mountains rise against the cloudy sky, and all over the ground
the remains of the winter snow slump into heaps of grimy slush. Welcome to
Seward, Alaska, population 1,863. It definitely does not look like the brochure.
"No
way," I say. "I am not living here."
Daddy sighs. "It's not like I have a choice, Makenna. You
know how this works."
Unfortunately, I exactly know how this works. I have done this
every two years my entire life. We go where the Coast Guard sends us, whether
we like it or not.
"Don't panic yet," Mama says. "Maybe the
campground will be nicer."
Doubtful. I can tell from the way her smile looks strained and
fake that she doesn't really believe that either.
