You critique: part 2

Last post I put the opening of a current novel-in-submission up for scrutiny by fresh other eyes, and folks have responded with helpful insights. Scroll down for the original post.

By the way, I mean "helpful" not only in the sense of finding things that need work, but also by way of making me rethink the way things are, whether I change them or not.

Here's the plan: this post contains 4  short crits and my reactions. Next post is a long, detailed critique, and that'll be part 3. Unless more come in, that ends it. Part 4 will be revisions I've made as a result of the input -- and I've already made some. I'll post the whole chapter (it's not long) so you can see where the opening was headed.

Now let's see if I can take it as well as give it out. Here goes:

Notes from John:

We got bidness??? I can't imagine the president of the United States uttering that sentence. Not even Bush. I don't care who he is, if he's the president, he's too well educated and too well trained as a speaker to let his hair down like that. Not even as a joke.

This exemplifies the filters with which we all approach a narrative. These men grew up together in a small town in Oklahoma. I'm from that part of the country, and I think two long-time boyhood friends would use language like this with each other, especially as a kind of shorthand for communication. For me, this works.

The dialogue that follows doesn't really answer the question (what is the trouble?). It sounds like the conversation you'd hear from any number of politicians worried about the next election.

I thought the narrative did answer the question, so I'll think more on this. The trouble is losing the election. To a President, there's no bigger trouble. So I felt the question was answered quickly though dialogue and inner monologue from the pov character. Anybody else have a take on this?

I'm sure there's conflict or interesting revelations on the horizon. Why not move them up to the beginning of the story? For me, the opening is a little awkward -- I don't know if the scene actually shifts after the opening paragraph, but there's definitely a shift in mood (and tense). In any case, it's distracting.

I thought the setting-up of conflict (President versus Allies) was well on its way. I don't know what to do to make it more so -- any thoughts from others? But John is not the only one that did not find this opening to be a grabber. I'm thinking on it.

A comment from Marie

"The President's gaze follows the wrapper's fall to a lawn that could pass for a carpet, then lifts and nails Karl." The "lifts and nails Karl" part had me confused, I think because "The President's gaze" is so far away in the sentence. You might just leave the whole sentence out. If the point is to establish the President's authoritative position, I think you've got that with him "leveling his gaze", "drills him with you-idiot look", and causing "a shiver" to ripple through him. Otherwise, good work.

This is the kind of detailed craft input that can help a writer make sure the narrative works for the reader. Good comment and sensitivity to the flow and meaning of a sentence.

And then Jay had this to say:

Intriguing opening. The use of pruning the rosebushes worked well as a physical action that also had symbolic resonance within the scene. I was put off by the use of present tense, but that's a personal prejudice of mine. Will you revert to past tense for the body of the book or will the entire tale be told in present tense? Your use of 'Leo' as a character name in this opening was also a stumbling block for me because of the prominence of the Leo McGarry character in the television White House of THE WEST WING. Not a deal breaker, but it distracted me in that crucial period when I was first trying to get a handle on your characters.

I love it when another writer gets it (the pruning -- and the pruning pays off dramatically in the closing paragraph of the chapter. You'll see that later.) As for present tense, at one time I didn't like it at all (I think a Scott Turow novel was the first time I encountered it), but I've grown to like the "in-the-moment" feel it gives me; the whole novel is in present tense. As for using "Leo," well, I chose the name because I associate it with "lion," and I like that for this character. I'll think on it.

Final small structural point. You wrote:

The President wants him to ride herd on the Attorney General of the United States? He's got no leverage on the woman; she's too damned honest. Sounds impossible, but you don't say no to the commander-in-chief.

You had a referent problem here. When you said 'Sounds impossible...,' my first assumption as a reader was that you were saying 'Sounds impossible for someone to be TOO honest,' since that was the closest referent. I had to stop dead in the flow of the scene and backtrack to untangle your syntax here and see that you meant 'Sounds impossible to ride herd on her.' (This was the only such bump in the narrative road that I encountered in your opening pages.)

Another good "technical" comment that will help me make the most of every sentence. Good thought.

James had a very different view:

Disclaimer: You did ask for feedback. Disclaimer, the Second: I am now preparing to wade through God only knows how many submissions for a winner-take-all writing competition (the previous iterations of said effort total over 75,000 submissions, so maybe I'm getting burned out on this process), and based on what I have read in the past my tastes, demands, and expectations continue to evolve and mature, meaning I want something that not only jumps off the page at me, and grabs my throat, but lower, and hangs on until the phrase 'The End.' So the short of the long is thus: If I were a reader, or even an editor, and that manuscript came to me with or without prior notification I would have to pass, simply because there is nothing to gain my attention, to hold my attention. Let the beating begin.

Well, I was kinda hoping for constructive criticism, not a beating. While I appreciate James's taking the time to write, this comment is so completely negative that it was off-putting. While I edit and write professionally, I'm only human, with the doubts any writer has about his/her material.

While I can't please every reader, I work to connect with as many as possible, so it helps to understand why a narrative works or fails to work for someone. This "feedback" left me with a sour aftertaste in my mind and no redeeming insights to counter it.

But, a day later and upon reflection, maybe there is something to be learned from James. Having seen a shitload of amateur writing, his is clearly a jaded, calloused eye -- a fresh eye from a very weary perspective. Like that of an agent, perhaps? Hmmmm…

Next post, a long and thoughtful critique from a writer in Oregon, a lot of which I've used in my rewrite (as well as comments above). And then a rewrite.

Later.

RR

Free edit in exchange for posting permission. You send a sample that you have questions about and of which you'd like an edit. I won't post it without your permission.

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© 2005 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[James C. Hess]

Interesting how my comment goes to make my point, more clearly: The beating I suggested was not for you, but me for remarks I was concerned would be taken wrong. Based on your response to them I see that remark as well as the others were taken wrong.

So let's try this again, from my perspective, which, presumably, is shared by you and other writers.

When you sit down to write you tend to do so for purely selfish reasons: An idea came to you at some point previously, and it is an idea that just won't go away. So you have to address it by putting it down on paper, physically or electronically. Then you put the idea away. But the idea won't go away. So you take it out and begin working on it, fleshing it out, adding details, introducing characters, etc.

At a certain point this otherwise selfish process tends to take on a new dimension. A dimension meant to make your writing less exclusive and more inclusive. You invite others to read what you wrote and they do so. You ask for a response to your writing. They give it. And you go back and do a rewrite. And another rewrite. And another, always keeping in mind how you write what you write is desiring a bigger and bigger audience.

But at a certain point you know, perhaps instinctively, there has to be a balance between what you are writing and why you are writing it and the intended audience. Sure, introducing a drag queen who quotes Shakespeare might make for an interesting hook later on in the marketing campaign, but does the presence of such a character really go to assist the story told? And did you intend such a character when you first sat down to write? Probably not. So the time comes when you have decide what is important and unimportant. You retain what you believe is important and discard what you consider unimportant. You decide the narrative, the opening lines, etc. You decide. No one else.

In other words, I can tell you what I think and why, but in the end the decision is yours.

The Writer.

[Jade]

On the President/Allies conflict, which people have suggested isn't grabby enough: I think what's missing is the sense of urgency. Sure, the President called Karl a week ahead of their usual meeting (which made me assume they have a monthly meeting, for what the assumption is worth), but he hasn't said why he called yet. What's the precipitating event? Have the Allies suddenly taken over another state? Has a state passed some law the President hates? My guess for the most plausible tipping point is that the President has just gotten a new poll putting him under some threshhold approval rating, as the Allies continue to win converts, and he's realized that their movement is growing rather than fizzling out as he thought before. Whatever it is, you need to tell the readers, preferably in the first page but certainly within the space of the excerpt you gave.

In addition, we know it's spring, but which spring is it? Is it six months to the election or 18 or 30? Adding a timeframe to "is Leo talking about losing one of the houses?" would help with that. I'm suspecting six months, so "is Leo suggesting we'll lose one of the houses in November?" Really it all should be tied to Leo losing the presidency also, since that's his main worry.

As it is, all we've read so far is that the President thinks the Allies are killing him out West. There's no reason that couldn't have waited for Karl's regular get-together. Why is this urgent? You probably know, but as a reader I don't yet, and I need to.