Flogometer for Jennifer: would you keep reading?

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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).

Some homework. Before sending your novel's opening, you might want to read these two FtQ posts: Story as River and Kitty-cats in Action. That'll tell you where I'm coming from, and might prompt a little rethinking of your narrative.

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Jennifer's first 16 lines:

Amanda woke as suddenly as if somebody had shaken her. For a moment, the walls of the small room in which she slept were close around her. The window was open, but it did not help.

Her mind was full of the faintest remnants of a dream. A dream which had fled as soon as she had awakened. It left only an odd mix of fear and regret and sorrow. The feeling that something had happened. Something terribly bad. She closed her eyes; opened them again. What was behind them was only darkness. Yet, it did not have the same quality to it as normal darkness. The inside of her eyelids was ominous.

She must have screamed. Must have from the way in which Margaret rushed into the room. "Amanda...are you...?"

"Nightmare," was all she said. All she felt she needed to say, with a teenager's desire to keep as much as possible locked within her soul. Besides, the dream was not coming back to her. It was only fleeing, further and further away into the night. If it was a nightmare, it was a Thoroughbred.

A bit of relaxation was seen in Margaret's frame. "That's...good." Her voice was uncertain, as if she had envisioned far worse.

Amanda sat up, slowly, carefully. A fifteen year old who moved like an old woman. "No, but (snip)

Nope

This just didn't connect with me. Storywise, it's just a bad dream, not a compellingly dramatic thing to read about. The point of view bothered me a little, too -- moments of close third person, then sudden distance when the author intrudes. And the writing had repetitive and passive elements that were discouraging for this reader. Some notes:

Amanda woke as suddenly as if somebody had shaken her. For a moment, the walls of the small room in which she slept were close around her. The window was open, but it did not help.

Her mind was full of the faintest remnants of a dream. A dream (Unnecessary repetition. And I'd add an intriguing image from the dream.)which had fled as soon as she had awakened. It left only an odd (What was odd about it? This adjective doesn't really mean anything, and so doesn't contribute to experiencing what the character is going through, IMO.) mix of fear and regret and sorrow. The feeling that something terribly bad had happened. Something terribly bad. (More repetition.) She closed her eyes; opened them again. What was bBehind them (Behind her eyes? Or her eyelids?) was only darkness. Yet, it did not have the same quality to it as normal darkness. (Feels repetitive. Contradictory, too -- first it was "only" darkness, then it's abnormal darkness. Which is it? Why not get right to it?) The inside of her eyelids was ominous.

She must have screamed. Must have from the way in which Margaret rushed into the room. "Amanda...are you...?" (Another example of the repetition I found needless, and it slows the pace for me. Also, I don't know why screaming is the natural conclusion. Though it could be if it were "She must have screamed again." Adding the again gives us quick history in a word and motivates her conclusion.)

"Nightmare," was all she said; she needed to keep as much as possible locked within her soul. All she felt she needed to say, with a teenager's desire to keep as much as possible locked within her soul.  Besides, the dream was not coming back to her. It was only fleeing, further and further away into the night. If it was a nightmare, it was a Thoroughbred.(While the "Thoroughbred" line is nice, this doesn't seem to contribute much. She's awake, so naturally the dream is gone.)

A bit of relaxation was seen in Margaret's frame. (Passive and complicated sentence. Why not, simply, "Margaret relaxed.")"That's...good." Her voice was uncertain (What does an "uncertain" voice sound like? I don't know. This is telling, not showing, IMO.), as if she had envisioned far worse.

Amanda sat up, slowly, carefully. A fifteen year old who moved like an old woman. "No, but (snip) (The mention of her age in this way is another point-of-view hop.)

For me, and this is all subjective, the narrative is working so hard to be mysterious and keep away from me what's going on in the story that it's not giving me much of a story. For me, if this started with "A scream woke Amanda." I'd be drawn in immediately. Then I'd not do so much exploration of eyelids, but maybe slip in a fading but grimly mysterious detail from the dream, and then have Margaret rush in.

In other words, I suggest Jennifer get out her pruning shears and trim this down to its essence, and to get deeper into Amanda's point of view rather than slip in and out.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

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Feel free to drop a tip in the jar.

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Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[Marianne]

I expect there is a good idea at the heart of this story but the wordiness and repetition would probably mean I wouldn't pursue it far.I agree with Ray that I needed something to make me experience the something bad that had happened/was about to unfold,rather than being told mysteriously about it in several different ways.

I think some hard editing and a bit more immediacy would strip the story down and make it more compelling.

[Amy]

I'm with Marianne- I can see a glimmer of a really good idea. Ray did a great job tightening up the writing.

[Chro]

You know what might be an exciting way to start this story? Actually SHOW the dream, and why it's so terrifying. Even the last five seconds of the nightmare would grab the reader more than this. A nightmare isn't particularly threatening after you've woken up from it. It's a bit like starting a story with:

Jeff breathed a sigh of relief. "Wow, I don't know how we got out of that one!"
"I feared for my life!" Jennifer agreed.
"Anyway, let's go get a cup of coffee."

[Sally]

I recently read on an agent's blog that waking up from a dream as an opening is considered cliche and usually warrants an instant reject. (Also, openings that take place on a plane that is about to land.)

Apparently these are being (over)done by a lot of authors these days.

Just FYI.

[Danie]

After reading this introduction to the story, I did wonder why Amanda was having nightmares. Margaret seemed to expect them. So I have to think there's an interesting reason for them.

However, I do agree with Ray that the overwriting suggests an attempt to create mystery with style rather than substance.

Tightening up the text, and making it a little less stylish (i.e., repetition at the beginning of sentences) would speed up the pace and create more tension.

That said, I really do want to know why 15 year-old Amanda is having Thoroughbred-size nightmares. (I liked the Thoroughbred analogy, btw, and hope that Amanda is a rider.)

[tomdg]

What kind of person is Amanda? I can't tell from this (age and gender excepted). If she's a spoilt brat, then maybe the nightmares are a good thing? Things that might help might include:
- hearing her voice more in the writing (e.g. using her vocabulary, describing things as she'd think of them).
- hints of the contents / decor of the room (not a full description, maybe just a single item that infers something about her character: cuddly toy, trophy shelf, horsy posters, flowery curtains, barred window, tidy or messy ...
- knowing how she relates to Margaret (mum, little sister, classmate, fellow inmate?)
- using a more precise word instead of "room": bedroom, cell, dorm ...

Personally I like the effect of using fragments as you do in your second paragraph; to me, they feel less wordy than full sentences. But it's probably something to do sparingly, and you still need to be wary of too much repetition.

I was going to suggest starting in the nightmare too, but if that's now a cliché, you'll need to start elsewhere. But please, not with a flashback :)

On a side thread, if a plane landing is a cliché, does the same apply to a train journey? Darn, there go half my openings ...

[TMM]

First off I thought there was a lot of showing vs. telling. The entire second paragraph tells us that she's filled with regret and sorrow, that she has a really bad feeling, that the darkness beyond her eyelids was ominous.

That's all fine - but... why? Show it instead of telling.

[Topher1961]

Sally, what agent's blog talked about an airplane landing as a starting for a novel being a cliche?