Mentee NameTitle of ManuscriptMentor NameAge CategoryGenre(s)Total word count (approx.)
Georgia RoworthGuitars, Bras and Heading for the StarsAnna MainwaringYAContemporary78000

GUITARS, BRAS AND HEADING FOR THE STARS is a contemporary teen/YA novel with series potential complete at 78,025 words.

Four mismatched teenagers form a feminist rock band with two goals in mind: 
1. Win the local JamFest Rising Stars competition
2. Take down the social hierarchy at Cedarview High School

Selena Li (lead guitarist and founder) is a rebel with a love of staging protests. 
Rumi Evans (drums) is a rocker with a hectic home life.
Sundari Basu (lead vocals) is a popular kid with a footie star boyfriend.
Erin James (keyboards) would rather be lost in a book than be a star.

In order to defeat rival band, Deathstar, they must transform not just their own lives, but the world around them too. Together, they tackle back-stabbing besties and crappy ex-boyfriends and discover that no matter how different their lives may be, music brings everyone together.

Geek Girl’s learning to follow your dreams meets the unlikely musical friendship of Lemonade Mouth.

I studied Professional Music Performance with a specialism in contemporary songwriting at The Academy of Contemporary Music. After university, I returned to Suffolk to set up a music tuition business teaching guitar, piano, singing, ukulele and songwriting. I spent most of my teen years surrounded by music, performing as a singer-songwriter and dreaming of the stars. This novel is how I feel life would’ve been had I met four awesome girls to share that dream with.

I was fortunate to be chosen by YA author Anna Mainwaring for the WriteMentor 2020 Summer Mentoring Programme, who said of the novel: ‘Guitars, Bras and Heading for the Stars is the book girls need to read this year. Witty, empowering and proudly feminist, this contemporary YA explores how young people can find their voices, literally and metaphorically, and work together to make their world a better place.’ I also recently had my flash fiction shortlisted for the WriteMentor Magazine August 2020 competition. I have taken part in short courses run by authors Aisha Bushby and Alexandra Sheppard and am a member of SCBWI.

Many thanks for your time, 

Georgia Roworth

CHAPTER ONE

Erin

Erin hated standing out. Unlike the girl with the spiky fringe currently sticking ‘RECYCLE, YOU DUMBASSES, OR THE PLANET DIES’ flyers onto the front of everyone’s lockers. She’d get detention for it, but it wouldn’t matter to a girl like that. She’d just turn up the next day with twice as many flyers and twice as much tape. Erin, however, would die if she ever got detention. She would literally fall down and wait for the Earth to consume her because things like detention meant that people noticed you. And being noticed was never good. That was why today was going to be the worst day to ever happen in the history of the planet.

‘Would you just stop panicking? It’s making me all on edge,’ Sam said from where he walked along next to her with his thumbs hooked into his trouser pockets. Sam was the sort of person that was neither popular nor unpopular. He just drifted through life on a cloud of chillness, never worrying about anything. He’d always been that way, ever since they’d met on the first day of primary school. It never mattered if something embarrassing happened to him because he’d just laugh it off in an I’m-such-a-cool-guy kind of way. It was infuriating. 

‘Maybe I wouldn’t be panicking if you and Gran hadn’t forced me to come to school looking like this!’ Erin hissed.

‘No one is going to notice!’ Sam said, a little too loudly for Erin’s liking. The corridor was becoming increasingly cramped, people shoving past each other and fighting to fit bags into lockers. Any one of them could flick their eyes in her direction at any moment.

‘Oh, really? Then how come you squealed when you saw me this morning?’

He frowned. ‘I did not squeal.’ 

‘Yes you did! I opened the door and you looked up and squealed like the frickin’ wheels on your bike.’ 

‘Okay, well, maybe I was a little surprised to see you looking so… fruit-like, but honestly, it’s no big deal.’

Erin stopped dead and stared at his innocent expression. ‘Fruit-like? FRUIT-LIKE?’

He studied her face. ‘Well, you see something round and orange and you think… orange.’

‘Bloody hell, I’m going home,’ Erin said, turning. 

‘Erin, just chill, alright? No one is looking at you.’

It was true, everyone seemed preoccupied. Perhaps she’d be alright. Perhaps she’d get away with it if she kept her head down and didn’t speak to anyone. It’s not like she had loads of friends to talk to these days anyway; if she didn’t spend lunchtimes with Sam, then she spent them alone practising piano in the music rooms.

‘Well,’ Sam said, slamming his locker shut. ‘I’ve got to get ready for the footie game. Good luck!’ 

And just like that, he was gone. Erin cursed under her breath. 

Why would they stock fake tan right next to the tinted moisturiser? Why would they do that unless they specifically wanted to ruin someone’s life?