Flogometer for Ken: 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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Ken's first 16 lines:

Dr. Uri Organikov searched the barren, windswept plains that lay beyond the building's only window. He waited in the deserted cafeteria for his wife, Dr. Pepka Organikov. He smiled when he thought of Cairo. Wouldn't it be nice to let the desert sun splash over their naked bodies writhing with pleasure on a secluded dune? To be warm, warm without vodka, that would be so nice. First, they must escape this prison, Russia. He looked around the empty cafeteria. It was nearly lunchtime, but there was no food.

To think he was among the elite. A doctor, an esteemed microbiologist, both he and his wife were renowned for their accomplishments, at least among their fellow mad scientists. Yet, on this day, he and his wife had nothing to eat. They would die of starvation if they waited for relief from their comrades in Moscow. In most parts of the world they would be highly paid. Not here. Since the collapse of the regime their craft had fallen from grace. Russia could not afford to feed them, much less pay them what they were worth. Their only chance was to ply their trade elsewhere.

He could hear the echo of his wife's high-heeled shoes coming down the empty hall. Less than one year ago this place had been a den of activity. People were scurrying about trying to see pet projects advanced.

I turned the page, but…

The promise of a story in an exotic Russian world, plus jeopardy and story questions -- they would starve, how would they escape -- were enough to get me to turn the page despite some craft concerns. Then, as has always been the case, the craft concerns turned into problems on the very next page -- two paragraphs down the author head-hopped into another character's mind. For me, and for many agents and editors, that's a real turn-off. Still, Ken deserves credit for a good start. Some notes:

Dr. Uri Organikov searched the barren, windswept plains that lay beyond the building's only window. He waited in the deserted cafeteria for his wife, Dr. Pepka Organikov. He smiled when he thought of being in Cairo with Pepka. Wouldn't it be nice to let the desert sun splash over their naked bodies, writhing with pleasure on a secluded dune? To be warm, warm without vodka, that would be so nice. First, they must escape this prison, Russia. He looked around the empty cafeteria. It was nearly lunchtime, but there was no food. (I cut the line about waiting in the cafeteria because it seemed to be a flat piece of info dumped in by the author, and certainly not anything like the thoughts of a man musing about his situation. I added the parts about his wife so that the reference to Cairo would make sense. I really liked the line about being warm without vodka -- in fact, it was part of what encouraged me to turn the page.)

To think he was among the elite. A doctor, aAn esteemed microbiologist, both he and his wife were renowned for their accomplishments, at least among their fellow mad scientists. Yet, on this day, he and Pepka his wife had nothing to eat. They would die of starvation if they waited for relief from their comrades in Moscow. In most parts of the world they would be highly paid. Not here. Since the collapse of the regime their craft had fallen from grace. Russia could not afford to feed them, much less pay them what they were worth. Their only chance was to ply their trade elsewhere. (I cut the big chunk at the last for a couple of reasons. First, it was a huge non sequitur to go from starving to complaining about financial and professional status. The threat of starvation seems much more powerful, and shows that the regime has collapsed without telling. This part was also more summary or telling. A second factor is that it slows the narrative with backstory that really isn't needed here, IMO. It's information that can easily be woven in later.)

He could heard the echo of his wife's high-heeled shoes coming down the empty hall. Less than one year ago this place had been a den of activity. People were scurrying had scurried about trying to see pet projects advanced. (Credibility alert: how could he possibly know that it was his wife's footsteps he heard? Unless the building has no other occupants -- and that hasn't been established -- he couldn't possibly distinguish between the sound of one pair of high-heeled shoes from that of another. He could anticipate that it would be her, but not know. Also, we're in danger of veering into exposition that will slow the pace exactly when Ken needs to keep it moving.)

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

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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]

I'm sorry no. I like the idea of exotic locales but the first sentence stopped me. "...searched the barren, windswept plains..." brought to mind someone out on the windswept (or barren) plain looking for something. The first sentence intimated that everything would be over-described (as one who's been told he overwrites, perhaps I'm a bit sensitive to it).

The "mad" scientist reference also caught me up short.

I go with Ray's edit on "He smiled when he thought of Cairo." I read this to mean that he and Pepka had been in Cairo and felt the sun.

Lastly, this excerpt seemed loaded with passive sentences.

[mai]

I agree with Norm abut the use of searching in the first sentence.

When I read the opening paragraph, I felt the author wasn't paying attention to how the lines sound, and he was telling too much -- in other words, he wasn't trusting the reader's intelligence or literary sensibility as much as he could. I want every author to assume I have a brain. Part of the fun of reading is the unspoken dialog between author and reader.

I thought the last paragraph made a much stronger opening, but it came past the point where I'd made up my mind not to read on.

The characterization of scientists as mad is demeaning. We're supposed to connect with this guy, but if he's thinking he and his fellows are crazy, it's not so easy to make that connect.

(Btw, I think most Russian woman still use an "a" at the end of their surnames. Can someone confirm that or say I'm wrong, please?)

- - -

I took the liberty of editing the first three sentences of the opening paragraph as if I were the author. I tried to focus on rhythm and the sounds of the words, while keeping the sensibility of the setting, and increasing the sense of solitude and tension. This is what I came up with:

Dr. Uri Organikov stood in the deserted cafeteria. From the building's only window, he watched the windswept plains outside. He was waiting for his wife, Pepka Organikova.

Of course, this reflects my own preferences and style. I decided, for example, that the sound of the second Dr. was aurally rough, and not telling the reader right away that Uri's wife is also a scientist would add to the opening tension and mystery that would hook a reader, so I dropped that second Dr.

Paring down gives an author a chance to strengthen his prose. Like sculpting, when it's done with care, it almost always produces stronger, more vibrant work.

I learned that here. :)

[Kamila Miller]

I was curious but not drawn in, for all the above reasons. The character is in a bad predicament and I want to know how he gets out of it, but so far all I've been given is exposition. I'd like to see the wife come in sooner, for them to talk, and to see their poverty rather than be told about it.

BTW, what kind of plain is it? Grass? Desert? Snow? I don't need a lot of detail but it would help orient me in this unfamiliar landscape. If you say plain in the USA, I have a generic (though possibly inaccurate) image in my mind for that. Russian plain? I am image-bereft.

Keep working on it! Sounds like lots of people are interested in the possibilities.

[Leigh]

As usual, I am fascinated by and agree with the edits, except for a minor quibble.

I've always been able to recognize women by their footsteps, first my mother, then later on girlfriends. It's only since my hearing was damaged during the hurricanes that I've lost that ability. I hadn't known other men didn't generally do this.

[Sheila]

I agree with others here about the first sentence. What is he searching for? And "barren, windswept plains" had me imagining something different from what I ended up imagining when you mentioned Russia and being cold.

What about - "Dr. Uri Organikov gazed at the frozen tundra that was his prison and dreamed of Cairo." It takes you right into his longing to be elsewhere and his main struggle.

I think my main problem with this was the vagueness, starting with the plains and running through to his recognition of his wife's footsteps. Does he recognize them because she is the only woman there? Are there other people in the building? Why is he waiting for his wife in the empty cafeteria?

I'd be interested to find out why the two doctors can't leave Russia, especially since the current government does not value their talents.

Good luck!

[Theadra Leilani]

I like this piece. Yes, there are some oppurtunities to tighten it up, but I would've read on. The only real stumbling block for me was the reference to watching the windswept plains. I'm thinking: dry, hot plains with tumbleweeds and dead grass blowing and bending in the strong wind.

So, when he thinks longingly of the Cairo desert, I didn't immediately see why he's want to leave for a place that was so similiar. After reading the comments, and the piece again, I finally got that the author intended the windswept plains to be a cold and desolate place.

I do think the beginning needs to be clarified a little. Is it a freezing, biting wind that's sweeping the Russian plains? Is the wind picking up the snow and playing with it only to drop it on another pile later?

I would read on, though, and that's the most important thing.

[Kathy]

Glad to see you're feeling better, Ray. Take care of yourself. We unpublished writers are counting on you to help us become published authors!

[Ray Rhamey]

Thank you, Kathy, for your warming words. Y'know, one of the things I like about the Internet is when it becomes personal.

Except, of course, when it becomes personal--like when some guys launched an attack on me and a couple of my older works on Amazon.com. (Luckily, they have since been nuked).

You're the greatest, and you guys are the real reason I do this.

For what it's worth.

[Kitty]

I didn't like the mention of Cairo, not where it was, because it detracted from the dire mood. I'd save Cairo for another part of the story. And personally, I'd cut the bit about "the desert sun splash over their naked bodies writhing with pleasure on a secluded dune" because it just doesn't seem to fit. (Besides, have you ever done it in sand? Trust me; sand gets everywhere and it's not pleasant.)

I love stories set in strife-ridden areas like Russia. I loved "Gorky Park," and I just finished Dan Fesperman's "Lie In The Dark," a thriller set in war-torn Sarajevo in the 90s. Excellent book!

This has a lot of potential. I hope we get to read it after it's published.

Ray -- Did I miss something? Have you been ill? And what's this about an attack on your books?

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