Flogometer for Fiona: would you keep reading?

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Validation from an agent

The FtQ "Flogometer" challenge reflects the real world. I came across this quote from an established literary agent with 20 years experience, Lori Perkins, on her Agent in the Middle blog.

"…your novel has to grab me by the first page, which is why we can reject you on one page."

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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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Fiona's first 16 lines (Brit or Aussie spelling here):

I park my battered, old, white Volkswagen under a tree a little way up from the bar. I turn the vibes up, get my phone out. Anyone who happened to glance in the window would see only a regular looking guy in jeans and a t-shirt, tapping his fingers on the dash. No-one has any reason to give me a second glance. Nobody realises I'm here several nights a week. But in any case, there's no law against people-watching.

I like to watch.

I sit and watch the queue for the bar. You can check the girls out before they get too blitzed to even stand up straight, never mind hold a conversation. You can observe them outside their natural environment.

It's raining a little, but they're all out in their flimsiest prick-teasing gear. High heels, bare legs, skirts short enough to be belts, low cut tops that stop just short of revealing their nipples… so far. Not that I'm complaining. At this stage of the night you could think butter wouldn't melt in their mouths, but they're all playing the game. If only it wasn't so easy.

I spot a target. A cute blonde, hair to her ass. She's with a group of girls, but she seems a little isolated, needy. Plus her skirt is a little longer than her friends', her heels a little shorter. She's clearly the outsider of the group. The queue moves on a little, and she's lost from view, but I'll see her inside.

I turned this page

Fiona got me with the most important question a narrative can raise: what's going to happen next? What are this guy's intentions? Evil, or benign? Can't really tell. Will he hook up with the girl? What will happen? And I thought the voice was good. Interesting, too, because we seem to have a woman writing from a man's point of view. Some notes:

I park my battered, old, white Volkswagen under a tree a little way up from the bar. I turn the vibes up, get my phone out. Anyone who happenesd to glance in the window would see only a regular-looking guy in jeans and a t-shirt, tapping his fingers on the dash. No one has any reason to give me a second glance. Nobody realises I'm here several nights a week. But in any case, there's no law against people-watching. ("No-one" isn't hyphenated, but "regular looking" is. Unless a passerby were very close to the driver's door and looking down, it's unlikely that they would be able to observe that he was wearing jeans.)

I like to watch.

I sit and watch the queue for the bar. You can check the girls out before they get too blitzed to even stand up straight, never mind hold a conversation. You can observe them outside their natural environment.

It's raining a little, but they're all out in their flimsiest prick-teasing gear. High heels, bare legs, skirts short enough to be belts, low cut tops that stop just short of revealing their nipples… so far. Not that I'm complaining. At this stage of the night you could think butter wouldn't melt in their mouths, but they're all playing the game. If only it wasn't so easy. (I really liked "skirts short enough to be belts." Good picture with interesting words. "If only it wasn't so easy" was a nice, tension increasing line -- what's so easy?)

I spot a target. A cute blonde, hair to her ass. She's with a group of girls, but she seems a little isolated, needy. Plus her skirt is a little longer than her friends', her heels a little shorter. She's clearly the outsider of the group. The queue moves on a little, and she's lost from view, but I'll see her inside.

Nice work, Fiona. Thanks for sending it.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

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Donations go to the cost of hosting FtQ.

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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.
4. If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
5. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[Norm]

Great stuff. Tight writing. I want to read it.

Good work Fiona.

[Mai]

There are a few things about the way this reads that slowed this reader's entry into the story down. They are:

"battered, old, white Volkswagen" -- "battered old white Volkswagen" flows better for both mind and ear, for me.

"Anyone who happened to glance in the window would" -- this story is written in the present tense, and is first person narration, moreover, so I'd have been more comfortable reading "Anyone who happens to glance in the window will" or "Anyone happening to glance in the window will".

The use of "No-one" with "Nobody" shortly thereafter. Normally, yes, variety is essential in a writer's word choices, but here, with the short sentences, there a kind of staccato beat being created, which can be emphasized by repeating the "no person" word choice -- No one and No one, or Nobody and Nobody. The word reps, added to the existing staccato beat, support and set off the qualities of irony, slight strangeness, and personal honesty contained in the two lines in which the words are used.

And this reader would have been happy not to read "But in any case," -- as it dilutes the qualities just mentioned.

Here, word reps don't work, for this reader: "I like to watch. I sit and watch..." -- I'd have been more comfortable reading something like "I like to watch. I'm watching..." -- especially as this is present tense writing.

This -- "blitzed to even stand up straight" -- doesn't need the "even" for this reader.

And so on...

For this reader, the sensibility of this prose was immediately engaging, and there was promise of very interesting characters and a great story to come. I'd have turned the page. But I also wanted to sit this author down with an editor accustomed to working with poets and literary novelists, because there's a literary quality to the prose that deserves real attention. I don't think I've ever commented this personally and pointedly about anything submitted here, and I think the way I commented is due to my sense of the possibility of some really great writing coming from this author. The somewhat stiff nature of this comment is a kind of bow to the author. As this comment evolves, it's surprising me as much as it may surprise anyone who reads it.

[Sheila]

This really pulled me in. I like this POV - a predator stalking his prey, picking out the weakest. And the voice was chilling. "If only it wasn't so easy." Lots of intrigue to this statement.

For me, the phrase "battered, old, white Volkswagon," could have been better. You use three adjectives but I still wondered about this picture. Is it a bug or a bus? Or a Jetta? Does it matter that it's white? Other than that the description used in this short bit was very effective.

Great work!

[Kitty]

You almost lost me with your first sentence. It's got THREE adjectives describing the VW. Choose one. I'd choose "battered." Kill two of those adjectives and the paragraph is fine.

As I said, you almost lost me, not just once, either. It took several tries to get past that first paragraph.

And then I read the hook.

Your lede should be, "I like to watch." It's ominous; it strikes terror in people. Then that first paragraph makes more sense and moves more quickly. With "I like to watch," we know instantly that something bad is lurking.

Good job!

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[Jessica]

Tight. Tense. Lots of interesting questions. I'm not a big fan of present-tense narration, especially for an entire novel, but this worked for me. Well done.

[Kamila Miller]

Other than the ew factor and that first sentence, you had me. I would have turned the page to find out if my ew was justified, so good work there, but I would have stopped if it turned out the pov character was a nasty predator. That's just my taste, though.

That first sentence definitely had too many adjectives piled onto that poor ol' car. You may just suffer from first-sentence-itis. I suffer from it too. I try to get it to do too much and instead it does too little.

Good job!