I've got a shoot at 6:45 this morning (I produce videos for Washington
State University), and don't have time for a post, so I'll aim for
tomorrow.
Meanwhile, since you're here, care to give some feedback on the questions below?
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.
Ray
Public floggings available. If I can post it here,
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.
Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.
Submissions, anyone? Only
3 submissions in the queue after this one, so flogging will end next
week. There are reviews and other things to do, but if you like the
Flogometer, please send in a prologue/chapter.
Kudos to you guys. One FtQ reader, in giving the requested feedback, said this about you.
The comments are uniformly excellent. You've managed to attract a group of people who give solid feedback. I don't have to worry about reading the latest entry and sifting through a lot of strange and unconstructive comments. I don't know who these people are, but they really help make the site I rabidly follow!
So thanks for all you contribute!
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.
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.
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.
Eric has sent both a prologue and a first chapter, and I think they're
both worth looking at. The first 16 lines from his prologue:
You never want to win a contest on a Friday night in the emergency
room. The prize rarely comes with a good prognosis. Most stitches
required to repair a wound. Oldest nursing home refugee. Number of
security guards called to smother a psychotic outburst. The main event,
however, is the competition for highest blood alcohol content. And on
weekends the field grows crowded with serious contenders.
The highest number recorded that night, written unobtrusively on a
corner of the white board above the nurses station, was 483. At levels
above four hundred, the brainstem usually throws its hands in the air
and gives up, leading to a loss of respiratory function, coma, and
rapidly approaching death. This threshold applies to most people who
land in the ER with alcohol poisoning, like keg-standing frat boys or
bored housewives who go a bit overboard with their mid-afternoon
martinis and Vicodin. But for guys who made serious drinking a lifelong
occupation, the ones whose hearts didn't so much pump blood as
sluggishly marinated in it, such stratospheric quantities of liquor in
the blood are compatible with life.
The ER charge nurse suggested that this particular high score be
disallowed because the owner was a frequent flier who'd maintained such
a level out of necessity, mostly to ward off the demons of withdrawal
but also to keep the blood from freezing in his legs when he slept
outside.
And now the first 16 lines of the first chapter.
Mikey Sullivan unsnapped the rubber band and pushed the final stack
of bills through the slot in the cashier's cage. This was well-traveled
cash, the paper faded, ripped and worn soft like a ratty pair of jeans.
The cashier thumbed through the money. "All singles?"
"Girlfriend's a stripper." He grinned at his explanation, but the
cashier had already ducked her head and begun counting rapid-fire,
laying the bills into short piles. As she silently mouthed each ten
count Mikey caught glimpses of the wet, inner part of her lower lip, a
shade lighter than her lipstick. He worked a toothpick from one corner
of his mouth to the other. "Makes me change her tips because she don't
like bringing a bunch of crumpled little bills to the bank. Thinks it
makes people stare. Which is funny, since that's what she gets paid
for, right?"
The cashier kept counting.
Mikey leaned into the counter. The bars of the cage blocked his view
of the rest of her body, but he was able to sneak a little peek down
the front of her turquoise blouse. He thought he saw a bit of lace down
there.
"You know," he said slowly. "You could be."
"Could be what?"
Both got my vote
A strong, confident voice in both openings raised just enough story
questions for me to want to read more. The high-caliber writing was
inviting, too. Besides what actually happens, I think the tone and
color of each narrative promises rewards ahead for the reader.
I thought the prologue's first sentence was terrific --
raised a story question immediately. While the second paragraph was
sort of an info dump, it was interesting info, and related to the
opening about the contest. On a quick read, only one glitch stood out -- "nurses" needs to be possessive: "nurses'''. I do wish I knew who was narrating, and who the nurse was talking to.
In the chapter opening, there were a couple of nit-picks (below),
but the dialogue right at the end raised enough of a question to move
me on. What is the clerk going to say when he says she'd make a good
stripper? Nice work.
Mikey Sullivan unsnapped the rubber band and pushed the final stack of bills through the slot in the cashier's cage. This was well-traveled cash, the paper faded, ripped, and worn soft like a ratty pair of jeans. ("unsnapped"?
This threw me. The rubber band was initially snapped? I understand that
you might say that a rubber band is snapped around the bills, but I
don't think removing it is unsnapping it. This is very picky, I know,
but words count. Anyway, why not just get to the money?)
The cashier thumbed through the money. "All singles?"
"Girlfriend's a stripper." He grinned at his explanation, but the
cashier had already ducked her head and begun counting rapid-fire,
laying the bills into short piles. As she silently mouthed each ten-count,
Mikey caught glimpses of the wet, inner part of her lower lip, a shade
lighter than her lipstick. He worked a toothpick from one corner of his
mouth to the other. "Makes me change her tips because she don't like
bringing a bunch of crumpled little bills to the bank. Thinks it makes
people stare. Which is funny, since that's what she gets paid for,
right?" (Couple of punctuational things to tend to. Nice touch of humor.)
The cashier kept counting.
Mikey leaned into the counter. The bars of the cage blocked his view of the rest of her body, but he was able to sneak a little peek down the front of her turquoise blouse. He thought he saw a bit of lace down there.
"You know," he said slowly. "You could be."
"Could be what?"
Comments, anyone?
For what it's worth,
Ray
Thank you, Katy, for your generous donation. Donations go to the cost of hosting FtQ.
Public floggings available. If I can post it here,
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.
Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.
Kudos to you guys. One FtQ reader, in giving the requested feedback, said this about you.
The comments are uniformly excellent. You've managed to attract a group of people who give solid feedback. I don't have to worry about reading the latest entry and sifting through a lot of strange and unconstructive comments. I don't know who these people are, but they really help make the site I rabidly follow!
So thanks for all you contribute!
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.
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.
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.
Lin's first 16 lines from her prologue:
Darkness clouded my vision. Sharp pain flashed through my skull. A
ferocious wind, carrying the stench of blood, roared pass me. A lone
crow circled overhead, prophesying death.
In front of me, two figures floated in midair, glaring at each other
with hatred. A silver haired sorcerer held a staff in the twisted shape
of a snake.
My godfather, Lord Elson, was in front of him. "Raphael, how dare you turn to the dark arts?"
"There is no such thing as evil," the sorcerer replied. "There is only power."
"You sold your soul to the demons."
"I shall do as I damn please." Raphael gave him a look of contempt
and raised his staff. A group of demons appeared in front of him, their
heads bowed. The sorcerer ordered them to attack.
My godfather raised his own staff in defense and screamed. "You'll
never be emperor -" However, before he could finish speaking, the
demons knocked him to the ground. He struggled in vain to rise against
their attacks.
I tried to run forward, desperate to help him. But I could not move,
as if trapped by a mysterious force. I tried to scream, but could not
make a single sound.
The sorcerer whispered in a language that I could not recognize. As he spoke, Lord (snip)
Not ready for prime time
While Lin does the right thing in starting with a scene that contains
conflict and action, and there are interesting things going on, for me
the narrative needs work before it reaches the professional level that
you must have to get an agent or an editor to turn the page. Notes:
Darkness clouded my vision. Sharp pPain flashed through my skull. A ferocious wind, carrying the stench of blood, roared pass past me. A lone crow circled overhead, prophesying death. (Except for the misspelled word, this was a pretty good opening paragraph.)
In front of me, two figures floated in midair, glaring at each other with hatred. A silver-haired sorcerer held a staff in the twisted shape of a snake.
My godfather, Lord Elson, was in front of him. "Raphael, how dare you turn to the dark arts?" (For
me, the "was in front of him" felt flat after the drama of the
preceding paragraphs, and I'm not sure the location description is
needed. This could be condensed, e.g. In front of me, two figures
floated in midair. A silver-haired sorcerer held a staff in the twisted
shape of a snake, and my godfather, Lord Elson, confronted him. Then comes Elson's dialogue.)
"There is no such thing as evil," the sorcerer replied. "There is only power."
"You sold your soul to the demons."
"I shall do as I damn please." Raphael gave him a look of contempt and raised his staff. A group of demons appeared in front of him, their heads bowed. The sorcerer ordered them to attack. "Kill him!" ("A
group" is terminally vague and gives no picture at all. Why not be
specific? Why not "three" or whatever number you imagine? It will help
us see the action. And there's no need for a 5-word summary of
Raphael's command (this is "telling") when a two-word command is much
more dramatic.)
My godfather raised his own staff in defense and screamed. "You'll never be emperor -- " However, before he could finish speaking, tThe demons knocked him to the ground. He struggled in vain to rise against their attacks. (No
need to tell us that they knocked him to the ground when you can show
it with his interrupted speech [use an "em dash" to show interrupted
speech, indicated with two dashes in a manuscript].)
I tried to run forward, desperate to help him. But I could not move, as if trapped by a mysterious force. I tried to scream, but could not make a single sound.
The sorcerer whispered in a language that I could not recognize. As he spoke, Lord (snip)
The fantasy elements, though fairly standard, offer promise, but the
scene needs to come alive with specificity and tight, crisp writing.
Lin also sent the first chapter. Here are the first 16 lines from that.
I pointed my wand to the east, staring at the single phoenix feather
on the wand's tip. A magical portal appeared. With my personal
belongings in one hand, I sprinted toward the outside world.
Goodbye, world of safety.
I landed in a forest on Eagle Mountain, my childhood home. There was
the faint outline of a dragon in the distance. I took a step back as he
flew toward me, rustling the leaves of the forest.
Don't you remember me, Mai? A majestic voice whispered in my thoughts.
My eyes widened in surprise. Aqua of Disraeli was my childhood
companion, someone who shared with me the intimate bond of telepathy.
His bluish scales sparkled under the sunlight as he landed.
Greetings, Aqua. I smiled at him. How did you find me?
He grinned mischievously. Princess, I just knew.
I sighed, then begin to explain my vision to him. My godfather has been murdered.
Mai, you never had a vision before.
I did not look at him as I asked the question that had hunted my mind ever since my vision. Do I have an elder brother?
Does this work any better for you? To me, it lacked tension, and the
narrative needs the same kind of work. BTW, I think I'd use something
besides a phoenix feather in my wand -- that sorta
belongs to Harry Potter. And I have to point out the phrase "grinned
mischievously." That exact phrase is one I talk about in my post on
throwing out the "adverbage". Lin, keep working, you certainly show promise.
Comments, anyone?
For what it's worth,
Ray
Donations go to the cost of hosting FtQ.
Public floggings available. If I can post it here,
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.
Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.
What does FtQ do for you (if anything)? How does it help you (if at all)? Please email me with your feedback. And thanks.
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.
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.
Richard's first 16 lines:
Mr Prince had informed William that he would be expecting a guest
later this evening. When asked who it was, William had been answered
with a stern look, and had asked no further questions. He had thought
it strange at the time but had all but forgotten about it now as he
became lost in the endless reports that had seen him and Mr Prince
working late into the evening.
A knock on his office door as he flung a crumpled up piece of paper
into a nearby bin reminded him of Mr Prince's expected guest.
'Come in,' he mumbled.
There was no response, only dead silence interrupted by the groaning of his computer.
'It's open!' he shouted this time, but still the door remained closed.
He rose from his chair and walked to the door. He suddenly stopped
in his tracks as he noticed a strange smell. He sniffed the air, the
smell of rot and decay filling his nostrils and causing him to scrunch
up his nose in disgust. The smell seemed to be everywhere, though
William could not remember smelling it until just a second ago. He
passed it off as being some food that had fallen behind a stack of
drawers and moved towards the door.
As he opened the door he almost stumbled over his own feet as he
tried to retreat from the figure that stood before him. It was no mere
human, but was no run of the mill magical creature (snip)
Still needs work
This is very much still a first draft, I think. While the very last
lines suggest something provocative about to happen, the narrative
getting me to that point also suggested that there could be more rough
reading ahead, craft-wise. Your first page has to be polished to a high
shine. Notes:
Mr Prince had informed William that he would be expecting a guest
later this evening. When asked who it was, William had been answered
with a stern look, and had asked no further questions. He had thought
it strange at the time but had all but forgotten about it now as he
became lost in the endless reports that had seen him and Mr Prince
working late into the evening.(This, as an
opening, is pretty much tension-free. It seems like
"clearing-the-throat" narrative to me, telling us we don't really need
to know. I'll add a little to the following to make up for what I've
cut that's necessary.)
A knock on his office door as William flung a crumpled up piece of paper into a nearby bin reminded him of Mr Prince's expected guest.
He looked up from his stack of reports. 'Come in.' he mumbled.
There was no response, only dead silence interrupted by the groaning of his computer. ("Dead"
silence may be a joke here, considering what's coming, but it's a
cliché nonetheless. I'd just delete it. And "groaning" from his
computer? I've never heard mine groan. This description took me out of
the narrative.)
'It's open!' he shouted this time, but still t The door remained closed.
He went rose from his chair and walked to the door, then. He suddenly stopped in his tracks as when he noticed a strange smell. He sniffed the air, the smell of rot and decay filleding his nostrils and causing him to scrunch up his nose in disgust. The smell seemed to be everywhere, though William could not remember smelling it until just a second before. ago He passed it off as being some food that had fallen behind a stack of drawers and moved towards the door. (Plenty
of overwriting here and another cliché makes its appearance [stopped in
his tracks]. This is where the need for tightening and polishing began
to be clear.)
As When he opened the door he almost stumbled over his own feet as in his he tried to retreat from the figure that stood before him. It was no mere human, but was no run-of-the-mill magical creature (snip) (I
frequently see "as" when "when" really ought to be used. It's a
cause-and-effect thing. He doesn't stumble until after he opens the
door and sees the creature, not simultaneously. This, plus the third
cliché on the first page [run-of-the-mill] stopped me.)
Interestingly, or maybe not, this character is killed at the end of
the chapter. Whether he comes back to life or not, I don't know. If he
doesn't figure in the story any more, I wouldn't make the reader invest
time in becoming interested in a character who is just cannon fodder. I
think Richard has an interesting story brewing, but work is needed to
get there from here, in my view.
Comments, anyone?
For what it's worth,
Ray
Donations go to the cost of hosting FtQ.
Public floggings available. If I can post it here,
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.
Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.
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