Hogwarts in the real world. He has worked as an editor, screenwriter, director, producer, college professor, and pizza delivery technician. Harry has published six novels, written two immersive plays, and sold a TV pilot. He lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two sons, all of whom (thankfully) like to read.
Harry applied the Page 69 Test to his newest novel, Ash Land, with the following results:
From page 69:Visit Matt Harry's website.When the Ash appeared, masks were the first line of defense. The machines were thought to be an aerosolized threat: don’t breathe them in, and you’ll be fine. People were encouraged to stay indoors and self-quarantine, but it wasn’t required. Scientists didn’t know in those first days that the Ash could linger on clothes and cars and buildings for weeks, even years at a time. That the xenobots could lie dormant until they detected a protein-rich organism nearby. That they could worm their way through tiny openings no bigger than a pinhole.I’d never heard of the Page 69 Test before now. Of course, I immediately had to go check all six of my novels to see how they held up. Some were interesting and a couple didn’t quite work, but I’m happy to say that Ash Land’s sixty-ninth page is very representative of the overall novel.
But then the news out of Europe began to show masked people collapsing in the streets. They pulled off their face coverings, coughing up a fine black cloud that spiraled through air, landed on more unsuspecting victims, and burrowed into their bodies through their ears, their tear ducts, a paper cut—any opening that was exposed to air.
And so the federal government realized that we needed to seal ourselves inside. Dwellings were coated in protective polymers. Doors were outfitted with air locks. Outside vents were replaced by N99 filters. As much livestock as possible was moved indoors. The human world was sent to its room.
The only safe way to venture out, we were told, was to wear a sealed hazmat suit with its own air supply. The suit should also have a temperature regulator, a wireless microphone, and built-in waste storage (so people wouldn’t have to pee in their pants). It should be made of durable but light material, and ideally cost around a few hundred dollars to produce. Finally, the suit needed to have some kind of display that showed how much air a user had left, whether there were any leaks, and so on. Unfortunately, such high-end personal protective equipment wasn’t readily available at the nearest Walmart."
The story is set in a dystopian Los Angeles, two years after a plague of flesh-eating microbots has spread across the globe, forcing everyone to stay inside. Since the only way people can go out is to wear sealed hazmat suits, I knew I would need a “getting ready” scene. And because the book is science-fiction, Ash Land’s protective equipment has slightly advanced features — a tablet computer attached to the wrist, sealant detectors, advanced oxygen tanks.
This page is also a great sample because it showcases the darkly humorous tone for which I was aiming. Yes, Ash Land is set in a dystopia, but one thing I noticed during the COVID pandemic was that people still managed to make jokes. In fact, comedy became an important haven for many of us. I wanted my main character to have that same sense of gallows humor. I also didn’t want to write a ceaselessly dour story with no glimmer of hope. Even though it’s set in a post-apocalyptic world, I wanted Ash Land to be fun. Plus, I wanted to hint that there’s hope for humanity to find its way out of an admittedly terrible situation.
Finally, I love that this page shows how adaptable people are. I was amazed by how creative everyone became during the lockdown — creating scavenger hunts for their neigbors, renovating their homes, becoming top-notch bakers. Even in the most dire situations, we’re able to find hope and enjoyment. This page manages to convey all of that, but I hope you’ll check out the rest of the novel!
--Marshal Zeringue