Pick Your Own YA Fantasy

[Welcome to part ten of my continuing blog series. I write the book, you pick the plot. For earlier parts, see part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, and part 9.] John scrambled to come up with an answer. Riddles were tricky things for him. He loved reading them over from the comfort of his bed or a sofa, thinking about what the answers might be before he inevitably snuck a peek on the really hard ones. But it’s one thing to try and answer a riddle when you’re in your pajamas on a snow day. Trying to figure […]

[Welcome to part nine of my continuing blog series. I write the book, you pick the plot. For earlier parts, see part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, and part 8.] In the end, he followed his gut this time. John grabbed Liese’s shoulder and pulled her into a side passage. “What are you–” “Shh,” John broke in, whispering. “Turn off your phone and just be quiet for a minute. Let’s see if we can get it to pass us.” Liese nodded, and the two of them stood in the sweltering heat, sweating, able to see nothing as they listened

[Welcome to part eight of my continuing blog series. I write the book, you pick the plot. For earlier parts, see part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, and part 7.] John’s gut said to go to the eyeball. It had the clearest connection to the Tome of Ra, after all. Too bad he couldn’t have the book look at the page, but something told him that ripping the map out of the tome would be a mistake. He got ready to say they were going to head toward the eyeball. The words were on the tip of his tongue, even.

[Welcome to part seven of my continuing blog series. I write the book, you pick the plot. For earlier parts, see part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, and part 6.] “Liese?” John asked once the fall was over. There’d been a lot of tumbling involved, a few big jostles and bumps, and more elbows than he’d thought they had between the two of them, but they’d come to a rest at last, down at the bottom of a long ramp. Up above them, a small postage-stamp size spot of light showed the passage they’d come from. It had been a

[Welcome to part six of my continuing blog series. I write the book, you pick the plot. For earlier parts, see part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5.] Really, it wouldn’t have mattered if Liese had asked or not: there was only one thing John could think of to do. Look at that Tome of Ra again. He reached into his backpack and fished around. “We need to look at the book I was talking about,” he said. “The Tome of Ra?” Some people behind him grumbled that he’d slowed down, but it was hard to fish for an ancient