Flogometer for Megan: 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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Megan's first 16 lines:

On William's sixteenth birthday Carl, who was not his father, drove him to the Grey Building. He parked the car in front of the large black doors and stared fixedly ahead, saying nothing.

"Well," said William. "Thanks for everything."

Carl's grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white and shiny. "You're sure about this?" he asked the question without turning his head.

"Yeah." William hadn't been able to sleep at all last night. Instead he had mentally prepared a list of partings shots to use at this moment. Most involved a wish to see Carl get stabbed in sensitive places with various blunt tools.

He looked at Carl, who was still looking dead ahead. Gulls conversed overhead.

"Well," said Carl.

"Yeah," said William. William thought once more of rusty screwdrivers, and sighed. He reached down and grabbed his backpack from the floor.

Carl looked at him then. He lifted his hand from the steering wheel and for a moment it appeared that he might place it on William's shoulder, but he pulled it back and let it fall uselessly to his lap.

"For God's sake," he said, "read the small print."

Craft issues were a barrier here

There is a kind of undefined tension in this narrative, and that might have been enough, but I had problems with clarity that signaled issues ahead, and there wasn't quite enough story value to overcome them. Too bad, in a way. While there were also craft issues in the narrative that followed, interesting things happened. Some notes:

On William's sixteenth birthday Carl, who was not his father, drove him to the Grey Building. He parked the car in front of the large black doors and stared fixedly ahead, saying nothing.

"Well," said William. "Thanks for everything."

Carl's grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white and shiny. "You're sure about this?" he asked the question without turning his head. (the final phrase, which should be a sentence, seems convoluted and could have been crisper. I think showing this is fine, but I think it needs work. Also, if you want a reader to "see" how dialogue is delivered, the description needs to come before the fact, not after. For example, it would do the job if, before the dialogue, the narrative was something like Not looking at William, Carl said… or Still staring ahead, Carl said,…)

"Yeah." William hadn't been able to sleep at all last night. Instead he had mentally prepared a list of partings shots to use at this moment. Most involved a wish to see Carl get stabbed in sensitive places with various blunt tools. (Here's where clarity became an issue. "Parting shots," in my lexicon, refer to verbal assaults, not physical ones. Wishing for stabbings don't seem to fit. Also, "stabbing" evokes images of sharp weapons, but here the tools are blunt. That seems contradictory. A change of verb would cure that, i.e. "jabbed," or "assaulted" or something else more appropriate to blunt things.)

He looked at Carl, who was still looking dead ahead. Gulls conversed overhead. (Just didn't seem to be needed.)

"Well," said Carl.

"Yeah," said William. William He thought once more of rusty screwdrivers, and sighed. He reached down and grabbed his backpack from the floor. (Another tripwire: "thought once more of rusty screwdrivers." He hasn't, to the reader's knowledge, yet thought of them, so how could he be doing so now. I understand that this is a reference to a dull tool, but since the reader wasn't aware of this kind of specificity, it's out of nowhere.)

Carl looked at him then. He lifted his hand from the steering wheel and for a moment it appeared that he might place it on William's shoulder, but he pulled it back and let it fall uselessly to his lap.

"For God's sake," he said, "read the small print."

There are interesting aspects to this opening -- the relationship between William and Carl, the story question of what William is about to do -- but they don't add up to compelling. I think that some of this is "throat clearing," and probably not necessary to the story. For my money, a better opening awaited a few pages ahead. Here, stripped of a large amount of excess tissue, are the interesting elements:

William's stomach turned. Getting a job at the Company had seemed like an excellent idea when he'd been telling the girls at school and they'd been gasping and opening their eyes all wide and nicely awe-filled. But now, actually standing inside the Grey Building...

There were five ways out of the room. The black doors to the street at his back; two small doors across a red carpet sea that led to who knows where; and an elevator at each end of the room.

He turned to the black doors. He wasn't going to run away, mind you, just maybe go outside and get a little fresh air before trying to find an employee to help him. That's all.

The far elevator opened and a woman stepped out. She was very blonde, and her jeans were very tight. She spotted him right away, (in an empty room, a nervous kid by the doors does kinda stick out), and walked to him. She raised her chin; because they were about the same height, it was the only way she could effectively look down her nose at him. "Are you lost?"
"Um." He fiddled with the strap on his backpack, "I'm looking for a job."

"If you want a job, you have to look up." She jerked her head towards the ceiling.

'No don't do it!' cried something inside him.

William looked up.

And then he fainted.

This is 16 lines on my page, and I think a page-turner. Get your delete key out, Megan, and get to the story.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

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Thank you, Jennifer, for your donation. 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

[Sheila]

I liked both of these openings. The first one has tension between the two men plus the intrigue of what it is that William is about to do.

My only nit-pick is the opening sentence of the first bit. It has the sound of an omniscient narrator and it contrasts with later, when the narration is close third person, as in "opening their eyes all wide and nicely awe-filled." That's more in the voice of a 16 year-old. As is "a nervous kid by the doors does kinda stick out)"

And while I'm intrigued by the ending of Ray's selection, I also detected a hint of melodrama in that the kid fainted. Does he have to faint? That really must be something up there.

I would read more. Good work.

[Julie]

Ray, I kind of liked the part you deleted about the gulls "conversing" overhead. It provided a nice contrast to the two people who perhaps should have been conversing but weren't.

[Bill]

While I agree with Ray about the craft issues, there is still something about your writing that I like but just can’t put my finger on it. I found the second excerpt more compelling, but the second paragraph about the number of doors annoyed me. It seemed a like a convoluted way to show William’s anxiety.

My experience is that, the more words I write, the better chance I have of coming up with a few good ideas that I can use as they are, or that serve as starting points for further development. Then I start cutting and rewriting. Maybe you haven’t gotten to that stage yet. For me, real writing starts with rewriting.

I like the first excerpt, but I’d like to be assured that the relationship between William and Carl is going to play a big role later on. If you could work one real hook into those 16 lines, I would be sold. I agree with Julie about the “seagull” bit. It was as if the camera pulled back from the claustrophobic front seat for a bird’s-eye view. It was a good surprise.

[Kamila Miller]

There's some overdescription, but other than that I liked the first opening just fine. I assume that his relationship with Carl will come into play as the story moves along. If it doesn't, I'd take Ray's advice and go with the second suggested opening.

Examples of overdescription: Staring straight ahead, saying nothing. Since he says nothing, that goes without saying. So to speak. :-)
He asked the question without turning his head. Well, since we just read the question, I don't really need to have it identified as a question. He asked without turning his head.
He reached down and grabbed his backpack from the floor. Ray eliminated reached down, I would have eliminated from the floor. In fact you can do both. He grabbed his backpack.

I'm also a member of 'we like the seagulls' club.

I hope that helps.

[JanW]

One formatting change you may want to try is the order of 'xxxx said' instead of 'said xxxx'. The reason I raise it is that I've found it works better in a consistent parallel if you do want to put it in front of the quote. Otherwise you end up with

'said XXX, "quote."

I sorta like the chunky voice. It's like driving over a bumpy road, which it appears this fellow is going to do. It's also more 'male'.

Good luck with it, Megan.

[petronella]

I would keep reading because I want to find out what happens to William inside the Grey Building. The building intrigues me. I picture it as a vast grey edifice with only the large black doors and no windows anywhere - just the kind of mysterious thing I like.