REZ's EDGE DVPit Synopsis 3

In the vein of Stand By Me, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, and The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint, comes the story of Dakota Charleston, whose father is accidentally killed by Native Americans. How will he ever forge ahead? #DVPit #Native #Adventure #ComingofAge

 

REZ's EDGE DVPit Synopsis 2

Tragedy strikes from over the Indian Reservation border, injuring a 12 y.o. boy and killing his father. Battle lines are drawn between red and white. How will a tormented kid ever grow up or find redemption? REZ's EDGE #DVPit #Native #Adventure #Action #CoA

 

REZ's EDGE DVPit Synopsis 1

REZ's EDGE Dakota Charleston is your average curious preteen child. His heart and his mind are open to all the world. But something horrific slams the door shut on his innocence. How will he cope? Will the wounds heal? Will he survive? Can he ever forgive? 

#DVPit #NativeAmerican #Action #Adventure

FICTION PROPOSAL (An Example from a published novel)

For anyone in need of submitting a fictional book proposal to a publisher, here is an example of one for a book that is now published. As always, paying acute attention to grammar and spelling is crucial. Different publishers will have different requirements, so pay close attention to those and meet them. I certainly hope that you will find this useful and relevant. 

Yours Truly, 

B.C. Jensen 

P.S. - All major spoilers have been deleted. 

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FICTION PROPOSAL 

REZ's EDGE - "Destruction & Redemption" 

Welcome to Dakota's hell! Welcome to the REZ's EDGE! 

​ 

The  REZ's EDGE  dives into the life of a middle-school aged white-boy whose world is wracked by tragedy.   Join him in his trials and tribulations, joys and sorrows, pleasures and pains; his  

"Destruction & Redemption".  Ride the REZ's EDGE!  

Summary 

It's late at night and Dakota's father, Gordon, is driving them home down a lonesome highway. It's 1974, one year after the takeover and occupation of the village of Wounded Knee by the American Indian Movement (AIM) and a militant population of 300 Indians. 

. 

Headlights pop over a hill, blinding Gordon. The oncoming vehicle streaks across the double-yellow lines, smashing into Dakota and his father. Their car careens, catches, flips, and smashes into the ditch. Dakota is seriously wounded. His father is dead. 

. 

 After a year of rehabilitation and many visits to his shrink, Dakota returns to his first day of eighth-grade middle school to face his mental demons and the tribal cousins of his father's killer. 

. 

Dakota's anger burns within him and finally comes spewing up as he throttles ... [spoiler deletion]. 

. 

Dakota finds that his next-door locker mate is an Indian girl named Cheryl Two Bulls. His disgust at her and her race eventually froths off from a boil to only a simmer, and he asks her for information on the Indian meaning of his namesake. This sparks off an attraction towards Cheryl and her white best friend Olivia, which leads into tricky territory of young love and hormones gone rampant. 

. 

Dakota is forced to meet each class day with student counselor, Bruce Radcliffe. In cahoots with Dakota's mother, Bruce proposes a Big Brother figure for the thirteen-year-old to hang out with. Upon an almost impromptu introduction, Dakota sees that the Big Brother is ... [spoiler deletion]. Dakota's mind is shredded and he runs from Bruce's office and the school grounds. With Bruce's coaxing, this finally resolves itself and Dakota turns to his Big Brother, Jonathon, as a friend and confident. 

. 

Dakota and his white friends torment the hell out a number of Indian kids in their classes. He has two Indian friends that he had become estranged with after sixth grade. Dakota is also bullied by a large upperclassman Indian, whom he has altercations with during their football practice sessions. He's forced into dealing with his tormentor and he also rekindles the friendship of his Indian friends, but to the criticism of one of his white friend's, a fellow Indian tormentor. 

. 

Dakota and his mixed group of friends gather at one of the boy's house, whose parents are gone for the weekend. Olivia shows up at the doorstep with torn and bloodied clothes. The group then goes on a rescue mission to find her friend, Cheryl.  ... [spoiler deletion]. 

. 

Dakota falls into a deep depression. His Big Brother takes him out to Cheryl's grandfather's cabin on the reservation for a sweat lodge, Inipi, cleansing. Dakota is searching for a resolution to his guilt and his sorrow. During the sweat, he is sideswiped by the realization that he has been tricked by his Big Brother and Cheryl's Grandfather into performing the ceremony with  ... [spoiler deletion]. 

. 

Dakota finds peace in the end, and the reader finds out, in the very last sentence, that Dakota's father's killer is ... [spoiler deletion]. 

Main Genre: Coming of Age Action & Adventure Historical Fiction 

Other Genre's It Fits Under: 

Action & Adventure  

Coming of Age 

Cultural Heritage 

Family Life 

Historical 

Native American & Aboriginal 

Psychological 

Romance - Multicultural & Interracial 

Small Town & Rural 

Word Count: 133,075 

Target Audience: Ages 13 and up. Those that enjoy: 

- The Body by Stephen King or the movie Stand By Me should love REZ's EDGE 

- John Steinbeck's writing style, but desire more action and a plot that move's along faster than that of East Of Eden, should also be fully engaged by REZ's EDGE 

- The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint by Brady Udall and his followers will dig REZ's EDGE 

- Learning about reservation lifestyle, Indian history, religion, spirituality, tragedies, triumphs, folklore, and the American Indian wars. 

- Books on race issues, injustice, prejudices, inequality, equality and justice. 

- Music of the 1970s, including pop, rock, metal, and a touch of country western. 

- Gripping coming of age stories 

- Small town life in the 70s 

- The news on the Indian's standing up against the building of the Keystone XL Pipeline. 

- Multicultural & Interracial Romance 

REZ's EDGE is different in that it takes the viewpoint of a Caucasian boy, and his somewhat prejudiced upbringing, to address the racial inequality of American Indians through his own eyes. It ultimately is a story of a boy looking to find resolution with the chaos that has turned his world upside down. Dakota is a torn up boy looking for healing and redemption in a world of conflicting signals. 

REZ's EDGE intertwines historical juicy tidbits, American Indian folklore, Native rituals in a manner that most definitely 'Does Not Suck'. In fact, readers will be gulping it down. 

  

Bio 

Brad Jensen was born, raised, and educated through 12th grade in a small town in western South Dakota, approximately 30 miles from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation border. He attended South Dakota School of Mines & Technology in Rapid City, South Dakota, and then went to work In Seattle, Washington for the Boeing Company as an engineer for 22.5 years. He always felt misplaced as an engineer, because he never fit the stereotype. In his heart, he has always been an artist and a writer, that happened to be damn good at math. He always wrote: prose, poems, stories, etc. B.C. Jensen has had his work published in newspaper form and internet forums.  

Brad has been a reader most of his life. In Seattle, however, he began diving into books about his homelands, the Dakota's, and the people that first lived there, the American Plains Indians. This stirred in him the desire to write about the people of his homeland, the injustices, the tragedies, and their triumphs. He's seen it first hand and works to give it a vibrant life in his stories.  

Brad has been working diligently at growing his social internet reach. He has a large following on the below websites: 

  

Personal Website: http://bradjensen.wixsite.com/authorbradjensen 

Tumblr: http://aminoapps.com/page/books/680756/brad-jensen-author 

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/bradjensenauthor  

Google+ Page: https://plus.google.com/…/10505…/105054276127718924831/posts  

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/…/rezs-edge-ancestral-novels-by-…/  

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorBJensen  

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorbradjensen/  

Books & Writing Amino: http://aminoapps.com/page/books/680756/brad-jensen-author 

  

Contact Info 

  

Brad Jensen 

[address] 

[phone] 

authorbradjensen@gmail.com 

http://bradjensen.wixsite.com/authorbradjensen  

  

The following 25 pages of single-spaced text has been expanded to double space for your reading ease. Enjoy!  

  

THE REZ's EDGE - "Destruction & Redemption" 

Introduction 

I had it all. 

. 

I was only twelve, but everything was there for me. Food, clothing, shelter, friends, the love of my mother and father, and the protective wall that my father constructed around us. 

. 

But the walls of my soul were decimated the summer before I started seventh grade. 

Five-thousand pounds of sheet metal and steel came barreling down upon my father and me, obliterating my wall, my protector. 

. 

So, now, how the heck do I rebuild some kind of wall? Because, Lord knows, I need one to protect my wounded and scared to death heart and soul. 

. 

You know, nothing is more dangerous than a hurt and fearful animal... 

... [spoiler deletion]... 

-------------------- 

That's All Folks! 

Hope you found it informative and worthwhile.  

Cheers! 

B.C. Jensen 

The Marlboro Crayolas

A Note From The Writers Kitchen:

The Non-Apology

Just tell me how it really is. Give me the truth. I respect that. Keep that in mind, as that is how I have written 'REZ's EDGE'.

Please, do not presume me to be a racist, as I am not. The content of the story is meant to put you, and your mind, into the realities of the time frame of the story. A feast of a story laid out before you. Bon Appetite!

Truly Yours,

Brad Jensen

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We come to the last page and Darrel closes the magazine.

I wipe the moisture from my brow and stand up. “All-righty then, after that I need a smoke.”

I slip my hand inside my pants and snag the cellophane covered rectangular package that used to reside inside my Buster Browns.

I yank the pack of Winston Reds from my trousers. “Who needs one.”

Three palms fire up. A fourth hand slowly rises, Joe's.

“Where did you get those?” Joe asks.

“From my Dad's service station. I snuck them out of his candy and cigarette display cabinet over a year ago. Had them stashed away in my closet ever since.”

“Alright! You got matches?” asks Josh.

“Yup.” I dig into my back pocket and pull out the book and hand them to Joe.

Fiddling with the cellophane, I find the tab-strip and pull off the top of the clear plastic. My digits peel away at the folded silver foil and expose the round cotton filters of the cancer sticks.

I smack the pack on my opposite hand, like I've seen real smokers do, and four cigarettes shoot out the pack onto the cave floor.

Indians and the Wonder Bread boys are on their knees picking up coffin nails.

“You’re welcome.”

I shake the pack and wiggle out a white, black-lung, peg of my own. I smell the slender shaft of wrapped tobacco, pulling it under my nose and inhaling. It smells good.

I place the blunt between my lips. It feels cool. I feel cool. I feel... like a man.

“Light me, Joe.”

“Shit! Where'd they go?”

Joe stands there spinning around looking at the floor of the cave, bends over and picks 'em up out of the dirt. He unfolds the book cover, yanks out the cardboard matchstick, closes the mini-novel and pulls the bulb end across the black striker.

It snaps to life. A small white spark turns yellow and smoke curls away from the tip into the air of our cave. Burning sulfur titillates our noses.

Joe cups his left hand around the flame, and I think 'This little light of mine', as he extends his hands out and I lean forward.  

My peace-sign finger clamp holds the cigarette to my lips and I suck.

The red flame bows down to the white master and ignites the tip of the tobacco.  The flame at the end of the lung-dagger dies and leaves a red glowing ember of burning tobacco and charred paper.

I only suck the smoke into my mouth and then blow it out. The taste is ashen and not really appealing, but watching the smoke puff from my mouth and swirl erratically and magically into the still air of our cave is completely mesmerizing.

“Joe?” I offer my lit butt to be used as a smoldering punk.

“Nah, let these guys go first.”

I reach out the lung dart to Piss Shaker...   He sucks hard and coughs up lungfuls of smoke. “Tastes good” he rasps.

He takes a more cautious puff and then Darrel bumps his butt up against Jeffery's red-skinned butt.

I shove my micro-Camel in Josh's face, and he sucks in a deep-throated dirty lungful of smoke. He exhales it out his nose looking like a smoking dragon.

That was cool, but I'm still too pussy to pull that crap into my virgin lungs. I suck the smoke vapors into my mouth and then breathe out through my nose.

It works, it actually works! I'm friggin' Smaug! I'm a Led Zeppelin conjured, fire-breathing, Lord Of The Rings bearer of terror and death. This is so cool!

I notice Joe watching all of us experimenting with the inhale and exhale of toxic carbon monoxide, cyanides, ammonia, tar, and nicotine. “Here you go, Joe. Light 'er up!”

He holds the cigarette between thumb and forefinger and moistens the filtered tip with his lips. His eyeballs focus intently on the glowing torch in front of him. He slowly pulls a drag in. And explodes! A seizure of coughing fits rip from his chest and smoke billows from his mouth and nose.

I smack him twice between the shoulder blades. “You OK?”

His watering-eyeball head nods.

“Try just sucking it into your mouth only, first. You can always work up to pulling that shit into your lungs, you know.”

- - Excerpt taken from "REZ's EDGE" by B.C. Jensen

The Dance

REZ's EDGE

The Dance

'CLAP, –, –, –, CLAP, –, –, –, clap, -, ca, clap, clap, clap, –, –, –.' The clap repeats and the third time the hand syncopation comes around a funk guitar sound quietly enters the mix. Next time around a single guitar tweak is added to the end. A base line on the piano enters. Finally, some violin strings enter and Rose Royce starts singing about working at the 'Car Wash' via the stereo and P.A. system.

Olivia had asked me to dance, so we are grooving to the song, along with the rest of the gyrating sixth, seventh, and eighth graders on the old gym's makeshift dance-floor.

The song ends and I head over to chat with my boys.

“Disco sucks,” says Josh.

“It sucks so bad all the girls are doing it. So get off your butt and ask someone.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Do it then.”

Josh gets up and walks over to the girls sitting in metal folding chairs around a rainbow-colored plastic table-cloth. He taps Cathy Foster on the shoulder and her brunette hair spins in delay and rebounds as her eyes look up to meet Josh's face.

We watch as his lips move inaudibly underneath the voices of Elton John and Kiki Dee.

Cathy pushes back the chair, rises, and they fumble out onto the gym's dance floor. We all clap.

“Alright, Josh! Way to go, man!”

We are thoroughly ignored.

Josh's body is ill-prepared for this thing we call dancing. He's more of the herky-jerky type, all bull, no grace. Great for football, lousy for dancing. The china closet is definitely off-limits to Josh MacCormack.

“Hey, look guys. I think somebody just pulled the bug out of Josh's butt. Is it just me, or is this a disco miracle?”

It looks as if he just loosened up and is starting to enjoy himself. Miracle of miracles.

“She laughed! He just made her laugh!”

“No way!”

Steve stands, doesn't say a word and walks away from Joe and I. He zeros in on Leslie Dupree, separates her away from the herd of ganders, like a border-collie culling cattle, and works his jaw magic. She nods and soon they're shaking their tushes.

“Joe, wuddya' think about Olivia?”

“Olivia? I thought you were making time with her?”

“No. I'm more interested in Cheryl.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, I think Olivia is cute... really cute.”

“Do you wanna dance with her?”

“Well, yeah, sure I do.”

“You should go ask her.”

“Nah.”

“Yeah, you should. Go do it. Right now.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, right now. Tell you what. We'll both go. I'll ask Cheryl, and you ask Olivia. It'll be less weird that way.”

“Alright.”

I see that look of determination on Joe's face. That same look he got when I called him out on the grass-eating-blanket-ass lineman from Red Cloud. Joe's going in for the kill.

Don't get me wrong. I totally dig Olivia and all. But hey, a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do.
Plan devised, we make our way over towards the girls and lay the proposal on them. Bait hook, line, sinker,... fish are on!

Joe and I are deep sea fishing and we just reeled in a couple of trophies, as we sway, move, and boogie down to 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' being sung by Kiki Dee and Elton John.
The music fades off and we all, kind of, just stand there waiting for the needle to hit the vinyl again. Joe looks like he wants to fade off the dance floor and I give him the downward thrust index finger. Stay, Joe, stay! Good-boy.

A piano note, a chord. No they didn't? Yes they did! They friggin' went and snuck a slow song in on us! Bastards!

Thank you Lord!

I offer my left hand. Cheryl takes it. My right goes to her shoulder. We start rocking back and forth from weighted foot to weighted foot as Seals and Croft drag out a slow one.

I can smell the heat rising off her body. A mixture of dance sweat and her mother's perfume. The vapors send me reeling.

I talk with this girl all the time. Her locker is next to mine. We rode together to the top of Conflict Mountain. She was with me when I pushed the dommy down one-hundred-eighty-one steps. But now, it's like I'm afraid, afraid I might break her or something.

Her hand is oiled warm silk to my touch. I feel the heat of her body rising through her blouse. A lump grows in my throat. It feels like a road flare has been set off under the indent in my chest. My heart beats along to the waltz of the song. I can hear the blood pulsating through my veins.

Cheryl pulls in, closing the gap between her breasts and my chest.

Those glorious small mounds, pressed up against my flesh, while water caresses our ankles. Those delicious cherry-cinnamon lips embracing my own as my hands ride on naked soft brown curves just below her sleek waist.

Warning-Warning! Maintain hip distance. Protruding obstacle inbound. Impact could result in maximum embarrassment. Maintain distance. MAINTAIN DISTANCE!

My mind is a freaked out hormonal firing mess of dance and Cheryl-induced intoxication. The song is a Volkswagen Beetle. My heart is a Ferrari Testarossa.

Jimmy Seals and Dash Crofts roll into the chorus of 'Get Closer'. 

No! No closer! For God's sake, no closer!

The song fades. I drop Cheryl's hand, turn, and make a bee-line towards the men's room. I walk briskly to the back of the bathroom, swing the door open, close and lock it. Standing there, ensconced in the stall, I wait for the pillar of stone underneath my denim to return to putty.

'Damn slow songs!' 

- - The above excerpt is from "REZs EDGE - Destruction & Redemption".  Check it out here:

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/rez-s-edge                                       Thanks - B.C. Jensen

Get $5 Off REZ's EDGE from The Amazon Of Asia...

HiYaAllReaders!!!

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Cheers, My Friends!

Brad

P.S. - Once you've read it, please let me know your unbiased opinion of the book. Give it to me straight, no chaser. Thanks, My Soon To Be Fans!

And if you would not mind reviewing it on GoodReads and Kobo or elsewhere, that would be Super Duper Awesome too.

Later Folks!

B.

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