colors of the fall, and shady porches in between. She spends summers healing her soul over a small Midwestern lake upon a rickety pier, while smiling into the sun. On any given day, you’ll find her laughing with family and friends, binge-watching shows, reading while sneaking bites of chocolate, or warming her bones by a campfire.
Kaley applied the Page 69 Test to her new novel, Burrowed, and reported the following:
Page 69:Visit Mary Baader Kaley's website.The room sways and my head aches. I find I can’t move an inch without falling. Jet, jet, jet. I slump over the bed.If a potential book-buyer were to take Burrowed and flip to page 69, I’m happy he or she would find this excerpt as a read-don’t-read test. Zuzan, our main character, is recovering from injuries inflicted by her best friend, Maddelyn. Maddelyn has turned delusional and attempts to harm the people she loves the most, and on page 69 she’s back to finish Zuzan off. While this isn’t the overall gist of the story, there are a few elements in this passage potential readers will discover. Firstly, it shows how fragile this underground community of people are: Maddelyn is susceptible to an exaggerated reaction following simple exposure to mold. She’s also holding a jar of another substance harmful to everyone living underground. Finally, several of the primary characters (Zuzan, Maddelyn, Maven Ringol, and a mention of Jalaz) appear in this scene, and the curious page-flipper would gain a small understanding of how they relate to one another.
“You’ve lost your senses.” Maven Ringol grabs my arm and guides me back into bed, covering my feet with the sheet. He averts his eyes as if he’s uncomfortable. “I’m sure it’s our medmaid being clumsy, but I’ll check on the sick girl. In the meantime, Undertech Jalaz promised to stay nearby. Might I send him in?”
I nod, and try to smooth my wispy hair.
But when Maven Ringol slides the door open, Maddelyn stands on the other side hugging something under her arm. Before he can react, she jumps up with a growl and clocks Ringol in his temple with the hard object. The clunk of it hitting his skull makes me flinch.
He collapses to the floor. A hat, had he worn one, might have buffered the blow.
“You’ve hurt him!” I shout, but then I stop. Maddelyn’s skirt runs crookedly across her waist and her blouse hangs untucked. She’s carrying a lidded, pint-sized jar filled with a dry powder. The bridge of her nose bends, swollen from when I tripped her earlier. “Stop this. It’s the mold, Maddelyn. You’re not yourself. We can treat you.”
“Now you’ve done it!” she says in a voice not quite her own, hoarse and low. “You’ve put it to Gelia that I’m crazy in the noggin.” Her head jerks twice and she pants as if she’s been running.
“I’ve not said anything to Gelia. Please Maddelyn…” I implore.
With her chin to her chest, she looks up through her lashes with empty, stony eyes.
“What?” She jerks her chin sideways. “Did you think a dull ba’rm could find me?” She never uses that term “dull.” She considers the slang term used by cruel Subters for Omnits too derogatory. At least, she used to.
Maven Ringol murmurs from the floor, and his hand goes to his temple. I breathe a quick sigh; at least he’s moving.
While it would be challenging to discern the dystopian setting and the great divide caused by the genetic plague from this one page, I’m willing to wager that if they like the page, they’d flip to the back cover to find out a little more about the story. I know I would. For now, I’m off to my to-be-read pile to choose my next read, depending on what I find on page 69.
--Marshal Zeringue
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