Let's not talk about synopses, shall we?
People who want to save the world are dangerous. They hide Jews in their mother-in-laws' basements because "it's the right thing to do." They perform scientific experiments on themselves--and others--and their subjects drop like flies until someone discovers radiation is bad for the complexion. They lead platoons into the jungle because it's what Napoleon should have done at Waterloo.Questions - do I go off too much about my credentials? And was the way I handled the multiple submissions okay? Was it funny?!?
Alien Blue is an 85,000-word contemporary science fiction novel set in small-town New Mexico just over an hour away from Roswell. Bill Trout, the owner of the Caveman Brewery, lets himself get hornswaggled into helping his best friend, Mayor Jack Stout, hide an interstellar fugitive out in the desert. Bill knows it's dangerous, but arguing with Jack is like putting your head in a jet engine: loud and disorientating, to say the least. Will Bill get rid of their pathetic alien before his pursuers find them and kill them all? Or before their flawed savior can save humanity from invasion? It all depends on Bill's latest brew, a suspiciously blue beer he calls "Alien Blue."
I'm a technical writer and editor for the Air Force; unfortunately, my clearance isn't high enough to know any secrets about what really happened in the desert in 1947. Or so I tell people. I've written murder mystery podcasts (project never produced), magazine articles (went out of business before the first issue), catalogue descriptions, newsletters, short-short stories (at Toasted Cheese, Verbiage, and Clever Magazine, all online), poetry (in Darkwaves and Larkwings, Vol. 1; and iMPS iN THe iNKWeLL, from a gleeful press!), and murder mystery party games (the best of which are at Freeform Games, online). I also ghost-wrote a young adult novel, a sequel to a book that was never published and was my favorite project to date. You win some, you lose some. I'm a member of and volunteer for the Pikes Peak Writers, and I'm part of an offshoot, smaller critique group in which we discover how not to do all kinds of things.
Thank you for your time. I am sending this query to multiple agents, but only the wonderful, insightful ones who might keep Spider Robinson or Kurt Vonnegut on a back shelf. Of course, the manuscript is complete and ready to send at a moment's notice.