Flogometer for Dai: would you keep reading?

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Tell me something, please
What does FtQ do for you (if anything)? How does it help you (if at all)? Please email me with your feedback. And thanks.

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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, 12-point type, 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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Dai’s first 16 lines:

For two days rough strangers had been lurking near our homestead, spying on us from brush and behind trees—shifty-looking men with weapons at hand. It was all to do, my mother felt, with the old wanderer we had taken in—him and his map.

“Food and drink are here,” she said, indicating a bag tied behind the saddle. “Mind you wrap the remains well after eating, for it must carry you two days.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Your roll has two blankets? Nights can still be cool.”

“I know, Mother, but surely I can make Caldridge by tomorrow eve.”

“And risk founder or worse? Drive your horse too hard and you’ll be walking, and us out a good gelding—do you hear?”

“Yes,” said I, a bit sullen-like.

She gave me a sharp look. “Ride and walk, ride and walk. And be sure you bait the animal well.”

“I know, Mother.” And shall you never let me go?

* * *

Ah yes, that old wanderer…

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Close, but no
I wanted to like this well enough to turn the page because of the good writing and voice, but the tension level just didn’t tick high enough. I think the narrative takes just a little too much time with the caregiving of the mother here. That, plus the asterisk break that cost the writer a valuable line on the first page that could have contributed more.

The asterisk break led to a flashback. While also nicely written, and having conflict and tension, and being short, for me it wasn’t a good place for a flashback. Get on with the story.

Later in the sample was a line that, had it been added to the opening narrative, would have been enough to get me to turn the page. It was this:

“Give your uncle my note, and tell him what you can, making sure that he sends some hardy armed men as quickly as he may.”

That signaled jeopardy to come to me. The story turns out to be science fiction, and the narrative goes into the narrator introducing himself, along with some more backstory and that kind of traditional thing. For me, I’d rather have the story. Some notes:

For two days rough strangers had been lurking near our homestead, spying on us from brush and behind trees—shifty-looking men with weapons at hand. It was all to do, my mother felt, with the old wanderer we had taken in—him and his map. (I liked this opening paragraph a lot. There’s tension, and story questions, and the promise of trouble.)

“Food and drink are here,” she said, indicating a bag tied behind the saddle. “Mind you wrap the remains well after eating, for it must carry you two days.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Your roll has two blankets? Nights can still be cool.”

“I know, Mother, but surely I can make Caldridge by tomorrow eve.”

“And risk founder or worse? Drive your horse too hard and you’ll be walking, and us out a good gelding—do you hear?”

“Yes,” said I, a bit sullen-like.

She gave me a sharp look. “Ride and walk, ride and walk. And be sure you bait the animal well.”

“I know, Mother.” And shall you never let me go?

* * *

Ah yes, that old wanderer…(I realize it seems harsh to cut all that, but for me it failed to advance the story. It let us know a little about the relationship between mother and child, but the story isn’t about that. Imagine if, instead, the piece I picked up from later had been the fourth paragraph. It doesn’t really matter to the story that the child has two blankets or that nights can be cool. And how important is it for us to listen in on instructions on how to ride and feed the horse? For me, not so much. This is the time to hook me.)

Were I Dai, I’d place most of this opening chapter to the side for a while—you can always resurrect it if you feel you must—and dive into the story of what happens next. I don’t even think you need all the backstory about the old man or the man pursuing him, unless it comes in real time, not a flashback.

The voice of this narrative, including a unique spin on the dialogue later, shows great promise. But I think there’s brush to be cleared with a delete key before we’ll be sufficiently engaged to read on.

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 plus 1st chapter 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

[Jessica]

I liked it, and I'd have turned the page. I thought the writing was clean, and I liked the narrative voice.

I disagree with Ray about too much between mother and son. I think the problem could easily be solved by moving the first paragraph to after the point where she sends him off. There's a lot of tension in the exchange, which would be amplified and explained by having the first paragraph after it.

I also liked the detail about proper care of the horse. Too often in stories, horses are treated like machinery. This added some nice realism.

Well done.

[Amy Nathan]

I think this is a case of someone loving their words and voice and not wanting to let go...sort of like the mother! I've been there, I know. You write something and it flows. It makes sense. Problem is, it doesn't allow the reader to jump into the story so that he or she can't help but turn the page. When this happens to me I cut and paste. I paste passages into a new document and save them for later. They're usable, just not where I thought. If the mother's attentiveness would work well elsewhere, so be it. The crux of the story here is the wanderer, the map and who ever is hiding out around the house. Wrapping food for a 2-day trip? Not so much.

[Dai Alanye]

Needless to say, I like Jessica's comment the most.

But it's ironic, because the paragraph she refers to was originally after the scene break. I moved it in order to increase the initial tension. Now to decide…

[Norm]

I wanted to as well.

I think what caused me not continue was the feeling that the next sentence after, "It was all to do ... with the old wanderer ... and his map," needed to show what the family would do about it.

I saw the boy (girl?) being sent off, but that didn't necessarily tie directly to the old man and his map. Rather, to me, it felt episodic, disconnected. Had there been a sentence to explain that whoever is being sent off is on a mission to do something. Ma is worried about supplies for the ride when there are men lurking in the woods nearby, it seemed more like a trip for supplies than a quest.

FWIW

[Mai]

I was almost ready to turn... I held my breath as I read... when I hit "And shall you never let me go?" I knew I would have turned. The protagonist has a gentle seriousness of purpose, a sensitivity to, and patience with, others. And that one line tells me he has self-knowledge, too. From a character with self-knowledge, an author can spin out all kinds of conflicts and other story elements. I liked the character, and would follow him through a book. The writing is fine, with a good consistent old-timey or other-world quality to the voice.

[Deana]

I wanted to like this but it just wasn't really compelling. I think Ray has given good suggestions on this one.

Amy Nathan also has a great suggestion with her "cut and paste" file for usable scraps.

[Kim]

I wouldn't have turned the page, I'm sorry. There's nothing particularly grabbing about the dialogue with the mother--she's being exactly what we expect a mother to be. I also had a problem because I didn't see any connection between the interesting stuff--the men in the woods peering out at them--and what's happening here. Moving up the part about why he's going would definitely have helped me there.

Kim

[Kim]

Hmm, I've thought more about it and I think the real problem for me is that I just didn't understand the set-up. If there are dangerous people lurking in the woods, then why would a careful mother send her child off into them alone? Is there something that will prevent the men in the woods from grabbing him and holding him as a hostage until the mother gives up Mr. Mysterious Stranger? What's stopping the men from just coming in and taking the stranger, for that matter, if the only other people around are this mother and son?

I guess the thing for me is that the character's actions undercut the hints of danger. If they were really in danger, wouldn't that wary mother just kick the stranger to the curb?

[Kami]

It almost, but not quite had me. I liked the horse details, and the mothering, because it translated to me into worry, even fear. But I had two problems that overshadowed that. First, I would rather have the mysterious stranger and his map around while she's packing the boy up to leave. Then I can take a look at him and get a feel for what kind of danger those outside might pose. Second, if he's old enough to send off on his own past two potentially dangerous people outside, he's old enough to be an extra gun in the house and is more valuable at home, where the odds can remain three vs. two. So the sending the kid off for help thing was making my brows wrinkle trying to work out how that would make sense. Maybe they only have one or two weapons. That would be kewl. But again, I would have to be in the room, with the stranger, the mother -- and I would not want to be dragged back into backstory. I want to go a ridin' on toward the unknown.

[Sheila]

I love the set up here - mysterious stranger comes to town, the threat awaiting outside, the map.

Like Norm, I felt the first paragraph was disconnected by what followed. I think you could start with the mother packing up her son, insert the sentence Ray highlighted at the end of the dialog, and then insert the opening paragraph. You would be gradually upping the tension from worried mother to the boy's quest to the threat outside, and that would make it hard not to turn the page.

This is just me, I'm sure, but I found the dialog disorienting for another reason. After the first paragraph, and the mention of homestead and horses, I thought this was a western. The dialog that follows is way too formal for the west, so I ended up wondering where I was. To find out this is science fiction threw me further.

Good luck!