Title: Playing God
Genre: YA Dystopian
95% drafted
Query:
God is dead. After the War of the Religions, humans proved that nonsensical deities and copout beliefs damaged society. Less than a year later, scientists found a portal to a fantasy world a writer had just created. This discovery, christened Animation, made people accept that no one needs to look up to find a creator--he needs only to look inside himself.
Kalyn Gale has two goals in life: marry her best friend Tony and Animate something--anything. When he Animates first, she begins to wonder if the two aims are irreconcilable. Through a new friendship as she tries to get free of his overbearing influence, she finds traces of a dark secret about Animation which may just mean that the dangerous myth of religion is true.
With the help of a girl nursing a grudge, a woman who still believes in a God long dead, and two boys, one from her past and one perhaps in her future, Kalyn sets out to discover is Animation is one big government hoax. But when a portal to the world she just wrote appears, she must decide if the quest for truth is more important than her desire to be renowed.
PLAYING GOD, my YA dystopian, is (almost) complete at 75,000 words.
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The inscription was faded and scratched, but Kalyn Gale had never seen such potent words.
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.
They’d probably been there for centuries—one, at least, since no one had believed in the silly myths of religion for over a hundred years—and age had weathered them to insignificant gray markings.
Every time she came to this spot, they seemed bolder, deeper, brighter, than the last, as if time itself were going backward and erasing the very marks of age. Of course this wasn’t true. Kalyn gave a rueful laugh which echoed in the empty ruins of the old stone building. Progress. That was the key word of this era. Moving forward step by step and leaving behind anything that would suggest man did not have control of the world.
She dragged her gaze from the thick gray wall and tilted her head back. From her point inside the crumbling structure they used to call a chapel, she could just barely make out a sliver of sky. The moon hung like a fat fist amongst a glimmering array of stars, and some bursts of light cut the darkness in half for a moment.
In that split second, Kalyn could almost bring herself to believe she’d seen a shooting star before reality reached her dreaming mind. It had been a shuttle, or a passenger plane, or even a ship off to the colony on Mars. Not a shooting star—never something that natural or uncontrollable or beautiful.
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