Flogometer for Heather: would you keep reading?

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Happy 4th of July. I'm taking the day off, see you next week.

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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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Heather's first 16 lines:

October 18th, 1951

A thick braid of rainwater shot off the roof and slid down the girl's spine like ice. Her raised fist trembled an inch from the oak front door. It must be awfully late… still, the light's on. Although she felt the slippery wood stiff against her knuckles, the sound of her knocking got lost in the rumbling thunder. She rapped again and then leaned her head against the door, wishing for the hundredth time that she was back home. You know you can't go home, she scolded herself. Mama told you so. A flash of a shadow pulled her eyes to the front window of the little brown house. More lightning? Or is someone moving inside? The front door cracked open and a gasp leaked out louder than the howling wind.

"Landsakes, child! You're soaked to the bone!" The chestnut-haired woman clutched an afghan around her shoulders as she beckoned to the girl who staggered inside. "What's a little girl like you doing out on a night like this?" She clucked her tongue. "Does your mama know where you are?"

Not really. She shivered. As she shook her head, the motion lurched the room into a spin. She tried to focus on the kind face and noticed dried tears across the woman's cheeks.

A warm smile cracked through the saltwater streaks. "I'm Thea Greyson." Her voice came soft and throaty. "And don't you worry, honey. I'll help you find your mama. Just tell me your (snip)

Interested but not compelled, craft issues stopped me

While the situation is definitely interesting, and Heather is doing the right thing by starting with a scene that has some drama to it, signs of overwriting and other small craft issues stopped me. A promising start, for me, but. . .some notes.

October 18th, 1951

A thick braid of rainwater shot off the roof and slid down the girl's spine like ice. Her raised fist trembled an inch from the oak front door. It must be awfully late… still, the light's on. Although she felt the slippery wood stiff against her knuckles, the sound of hHer knocking got lost in the rumbling thunder. She rapped again and then leaned her head against the door, wishing for the hundredth time that she was back home. You know you can't go home, she scolded herself. Mama told you so. A flash of a shadow pulled her eyes gaze to the front window of the little brown house. More lightning? Or is someone moving inside? The front door cracked open and a gasp leaked out louder than the howling wind. (The first sentence was the start of slowing me. A "thick braid of rainwater" sounds like a small stream, and why would this person not avoid it? And why have water slide when what it does best is run? I cut the second sentence because it just wasn't needed -- and I doubt the girl would notice that it was oak. Too many adjectives, for my eye, was a problem here. On the italicized thoughts: I'm an advocate of using interior monologue without italics and "thought." Here it could be simply woven in with the narrative without the italics: It had to be awfully late…still, the light was on. Even though I tightened the knocking description, I think it could be better if, for example, rumbling thunder swallowed her knock. For the second thought sequence, it could be: She knew she couldn't go home. Mama'd told her so. Lose the italics again by changing it to past tense. Lastly, for me it wasn't credible that a gasp was louder than howling wind. It would have to be a shriek to be louder. The girl could see the woman's mouth open as if she gasped, but how could she hear it? One other thing -- it's always "the girl." This operates to keep us distant from the character. If she's going to be a point of view character, I'd advise using a name.)

The chestnut-hairedA woman clutched an afghan around her shoulders. "Landsakes, child! You're soaked to the bone!" as sShe beckoned to the girl, who and she staggered inside. "What's a little girl like you doing out on a night like this?" She clucked her tongue. "Does your mama know where you are?" (Issues with the second sentence, which I moved to be first so there was info on who was talking: I don't think the child would be noticing "chestnut" hair. However, it would be good to give some description -- what if the woman was described as about the age of the girl's mother, which I suspect is true from what I read later?)

Not really. She The girl shivered. As sShe shook her head, and the motion lurched the room into a spin. She tried to focus on the kind face and noticed dried tears across the woman's cheeks. (I changed "she" to "the girl" because the antecedent for the pronoun was the woman, not the girl. I changed the "as she" construction because it's not really accurate -- the shake of the head and the room lurching are cause and effect, not simultaneous. I have to wonder if it's really possible to notice dried tear streaks on a face unless they ran through noticeable makeup. I'm not saying that it isn't, it's just that I can't recall ever seeing that. Wet tear streaks, yes. For my money, I'd have the woman have wet tear streaks, and even wipe one away. Seems more believable, and points to the fact that she'd been weeping.)

A warm smile cracked through the saltwater streaks. "I'm Thea Greyson." Her voice came soft and throaty. "And don't you worry, honey. I'll help you find your mama. Just tell me your (snip) (Same point about the tear streaks, and I don't think a girl would be thinking of them as "saltwater." We do seem to be in a close third person here. If you want us to hear the woman's voice in a particular way, you have to put that description before the words come, as in: The woman's voice came soft and throaty. I liked the way the dialogue "find your mama" showed us that the girl is young, rather than telling us, and it characterized the woman.)

As I said, there's promise here, and an interesting situation. There was more on the next page about the girl promising not to tell her name, and then she passes out. If that had been on this first page, I think that would have been plenty to get me to turn the page, storywise, and it will be possible for it to be there if the opening is trimmed and made crisper.

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

[Ray Rhamey]

I think you should look seriously at dropping it altogether and weaving in whatever you think the reader needs to know when she needs to know it.

What can it hurt? You write on a computer, so if you cut this and take a look at how it would go without it, what's the harm?

I did that with my third novel, and ended up cutting the first two chapters.

R

[Heather]

Thanks, Ray.

I've actually tried a few times. In fact, my original draft was written without this opening.

I used to have bits of this backstory woven into the second chapter (the original first chapter) but of all the variations I've tried, the active scene seems to work best.

Thirty years later, Beatrice doesn't remember this particular scene or anything before living with Thea, and she's desperate to know what happened during the missing decade. Thea hid the letter and lied about it. Chapter two picks up after Thea's death as Beatrice sorts through the estate, eventually to discover the letter.

That discovery seems to have a lot less impact when the reader doesn't understand how she ended up with Thea.

I'll look at it again though. It's been a while since I've tried it the other way. Maybe I'll hit on a better method.

Thanks again for your thoughts.

[Mai]

I've been hit with thick braids of rainwater. Instances of powerful turbulence in a small setting, when these transient streams of water leave the surface on which they've formed, they shoot off forcefully at unpredictable angles, and if they hit you and the temp is below 50 F, it feels like ice. It comes at you fast and unpredictably. Unless you anticipate it, you may not be able to avoid getting hit by it. The force of this kind of mini-stream is such that the braid keeps its integrity for several feet after it leaves the surface on which it formed, and so it can slide down your back, shoulder, face, etc., like a wet snake for a few brief moments. Where have I experienced rain acting like this? In hurricanes and noreasters on the seashore of the northern Atlantic, in the months of October and November. So maybe rain needs to be not only coming down heavily, but also coming down in high winds, chilly air, low air pressure, and salt in the atmosphere, to behave like this.

The image, which was unusual, and descriptive of something I'd encountered from time to time, caught my attention. The girl's plight kept it. I would have turned the page. I was sorry to find out that this is backstory. With editing for consistent POV, I thought it would make a gripping opening. Except for unclear POV, some of the sentences Ray struck were very evocative for me, putting me right inside the girl's skin.

[Mai]

I'm going to disagree with Ray on a couple of other points. A child does notice things like if a door's wood is oak, maple, etc. Children see details that adults have learned to ignore. Partly it's because their scale is small, relative to everything else. Things that seem small to an adult seem big to a child. Partly it's that children are in learning mode almost all the time. Their sensitivity to details, and their tendency to attempt to categorize, are at high levels. Even if this child were an adult, in moments of crisis, one does tend to notice minute details that would escape one otherwise. This child being at the point of fainting means her stress level is high, i.e., she is in crisis. She would notice what kind of wood the door is made from, she would be very aware of any strangeness in how it feels to knock on the wet wooden door. The child would notice the woman's hair color, the child would notice the tear streaks. You can cry so much that your tears become very concentrated, and the tears that come down late in the crying session are saltier than normal and leave salt traces on the face. I've seen it in the mirror.

I think my quibbles here are about being open to writing that tells us about something we may not have experienced ourselves, which is authentic nonetheless.

According the premise that underlies my quibbles, I conclude Ray doesn't go out in autumn hurricanes or noreasters on the northeast US coast, his memories of how he saw things as a child have faded a little, and he hasn't cried for hours and hours for days in a row. :)