Flogometer: Laura made me want to know what would happen

The Flogometer challenge: can you craft a first page that compels me to turn to the next page? Caveat: Please keep in mind that this is entirely subjective. Note: all the Flogometer posts are here.

What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, etc.) there should be about 16 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page).

This is for Laura. Here are the first 16 lines:

"They're coming," a hushed voice sounded in my head, warning me of...something.

Not the type of person to hear voices, I did what any sane person would do. I ignored it.

"They're coming," it warned again.

I took a deep breath and squeezed the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Almost home, Laura. You're almost home. Just a few more minutes. Ten hours in a car alone is enough to make anyone start hearing voices.

"They're coming."

Okay, so it's a really persistent voice with a limited vocabulary. No worries. You're not crazy. Just focus on the road.

Heading west, I squinted, trying to see the two-lane highway through the glare on the windshield. The sun had slid into that annoying zone, hovering just above the horizon and beneath the visor, effectively blinding me with its rays.

"They're coming!" The warning thundered in my head.

Startled by its intensity, I jerked on the steering wheel, granting my two-year-old Subaru Outback its first off-road excursion. The car swerved off the road and bumped and bucked through a meadow that was quite picturesque and serene with lush, green grass interspersed with yellow and red flowers.

I turned the page for three reasons. I wanted to know what the voice was, I wanted to know what was going to happen next, and I liked the voice of the narrator -- the line about a really persistent voice with a limited vocabulary made me smile (internally).

As usual, I have some notes for Laura. One thing you might consider doing is getting rid of the italics indicated by underlining. If you use internal monologue, there's no need for the italics, the reader understands that it's the character thinking. For example, in the first paragraph where you use them (with cutting one repetitive sentence that isn't needed):

I took a deep breath and squeezed the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Almost home, Laura. Just a few more minutes. Ten hours in a car alone was enough to make anyone start hearing voices.

Just changing the verb to past tense does the trick. The same applies to the second paragraph -- changed to past tense, it becomes internal monologue. Oh, I wondered about the knuckles going white on the steering wheel -- that takes a lot of squeezing, and her "voice" doesn't sound that distressed. Seemed like an overreaction to me.

Let's do some tightening and tend to some other things.

A hushed voice sounded in my head, warning me of...something. "They're coming." (I think the part about warning is both redundant and "telling." I got it from what was happening, you didn't need to tell me. Also, I moved the descriptive part to the front of the paragraph for a simple reason -- if you want the reader to "hear" the words in the way they are delivered, you have to let her know before the words come, not after. If you don't, the words are first "heard" in a normal conversational tone, and you'd have to backtrack to "rehear" them as hushed, and by then it's too late. IMO.)

Not the type of person to hear voices, I did what any sane person would do. I ignored it. (Nice.)

"They're coming." it warned again.

I took a deep breath and squeezed the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Almost home, Laura. You're almost home. Just a few more minutes. Ten hours in a car alone was enough to make anyone start hearing voices.

"They're coming."

Okay, so it was a really persistent voice with a limited vocabulary. No worries. I was not crazy. Just focus on the road.

Heading west, I squinted, trying to see the two-lane highway through the glare on the windshield. The sun had slid into that annoying zone , hovering just above the horizon and beneath the visor, effectively blinding me with its rays.

The warning thundered in my head. "They're coming!" (I moved the thundering before the speech for the reason cited above.)

Startled by its intensity, I jerked on the steering wheel, granting my two-year-old Subaru Outback its first off-road excursion. The car  swerved off the road and bumped and bucked through a meadow that was quite picturesque and serene with lush, green grass interspersed with yellow and red flowers. (I cut to avoid the repetition of "off road," and the action is clear without the swerving, I think.)

Note to Laura: in the following pages I felt the overwriting continued and that the narrative could be considerably crisper. Which would be good because the pace slowed a little too much for me now and then. You have an intriguing opening (the protagonist seems to be suddenly 2 years in her future, owning a home she's never seen and her parents dead in a car accident), and I think that, with a little work and editing, it'll be a grabber.

Thanks for sending your work. Good luck.

Any comments?

For what it's worth,

Ray

Public floggings available. If I can post it here, send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.

ARCHIVES .

© 2007 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[Laura]

Thanks Ray. Yes, I know it slowed...too much actually, so I'm in the processes of changing the entire opening. Should still be a grabber, but then right into some action.

Great suggestions!

Laura