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:

The boy is called from the side of his old nurse to attend his father—His Highness, the Prince—and marched down a hall so long that the other end dims in haze. He trembles as they go, and at one point stumbles, only to receive a clip in the small of his back—a reminder that he is to keep his bearing soldierly—otherwise it will be the worse for him, as he well knows from many sad experiences. He is nine years old.

In no time they are at the end, halting before the high and heavy double doors of the Arms Chamber. It had only been a trick of vision, for in his mind's eye he had seen himself and his tutor from the back as they advanced, furlong after furlong down an endless passageway.

A footman cracks the left-hand door and bawls, “His Royal Lordship and His Lordship's Preceptor!” then steps back and swings it wide.

Knees barely supporting him, the boy marches unsteadily to his father's chair, stopping four paces short and bowing deeply (feet together—none of your sashaying pixie-like curtsies), then stands at attention, his eyes fixed at a point over his father's right shoulder. Each corner of the room holds a glass-shielded pedestal candelabrum so tall linkboys must stand a-tiptoe to light it. Above his father's dais hangs a chandelier raised (snip)

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Yes, but. . .
“Story” moved me to turn the page, but there were reluctances. I wanted to know what was going to happen to this very sympathetic, terrified little boy. On the other hand, I felt very distant from him, almost to the point of not caring enough to want to know more. I think that’s a risk. And then, before tightening its grip on me with story, the narrative lapses into fairly dense description of the room. Those things and the pronoun with no apparent antecedent just about stayed my hand. Some notes:

The boy is called from the side of his old nurse to attend his father—His Highness, the Prince—and marched down a hall so long that the other end dims in haze. He trembles as they go, and at one point stumbles, only to receive a clip in the small of his back—a reminder that he is to keep his bearing soldierly—otherwise it will be the worse for him, as he well knows from many sad experiences. He is nine years old.

In no time they are at the end, halting before the high and heavy double doors of the Arms Chamber. It had only been a trick of vision, for in his mind's eye he had seen himself and his tutor from the back as they advanced, furlong after furlong down an endless passageway. (What is the “it”? Perhaps it’s what comes in the second half of the sentence, which refers to seeing himself from a distance. This backwards construction was a stumble for me, not good at a point where things need to flow smoothly.)

A footman cracks the left-hand door and bawls, “His Royal Lordship and His Lordship's Preceptor!” then steps back and swings it wide. (A tiny bit of overwriting; it doesn’t matter to the story or visualizing the scene which door he cracks.)

Knees barely supporting him, the boy marches unsteadily to his father's chair, stopping four paces short and bowing deeply (feet together—none of your sashaying pixie-like curtsies), then stands at attention, his eyes fixed at a point over his father's right shoulder. Each corner of the room holds a glass-shielded pedestal candelabrum so tall linkboys must stand a-tiptoe to light it. Above his father's dais hangs a chandelier raised (snip) (You bring me to a moment of tension like this and then talk about candelabrums and chandeliers? This took your foot totally off the gas pedal for me. Carry on with the story. Then, if these details are absolutely necessary, describe them through the point of view of the boy with experiential description that colors what he sees with what he feels about them.)

The narrative continues with the boy for another page and a half, then switches to past tense and an info dump about the world he’s in. I would have stopped right then and there as an agent because I would see that the author doesn’t show me that he/she knows that it’s “story” that is most important here, and that details of the world can be woven in.

And I have to wonder why the author kept me so distant from the point-of-view character, never giving him a name, staying an arm’s length from him, outside of his POV. I was ready and willing to connect with the character, but was not taken close enough.

Nice writing, though. For me, letting me inside this little boy and staying with his story would be the keys to a much more compelling opening.

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 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 format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[John]

I'd do a word search for "so" and delete every one I find. You use the word in the first and last sentence and it leads to more of the stumbling Ray mentioned. Also, the way you phrase the last sentence, "so tall" modifies linkboys rather than a glass-shielded pedestal candelabrum. I don't think we need to know that much about the candelabrum, anyway. We want to know about the boy and how he feels. As for the first sentence, we only need to know it's a long hallway--enough said about that. Keep us focused on the trembling and stumbling and the clip in the small of the back and how the boy responds. That's what's interesting.

[Deana]

Very ponderous.

[Kim]

I voted yes. I liked the restrained style of the opening.

"The boy is called from the side of his old nurse to attend his father—His Highness, the Prince—and marched down a hall so long that the other end dims in haze."

It's minor, but what about 'called from his nurse's side' instead? It would trim a few unnecessary words, useful in a long, complex sentence, and it might also make flow a little ore smoothly. As it was, my mind went for the first noun and starting throwing up pictures of 'sides' rather than 'nurses', and then had to re-boot, so to speak.

Definitely feeling sympathethy for the character, and the tension is working for me too. If it went on too long about chandeliers, etc, though, I might start getting antsy.

[Jon]

Yes. But...

...I'd like to see slightly tighter writing here. (Though the stretchiness of the initial sentences contrasts nicely with the punch of the last in that paragraph.)

"It had" < reference is unclear.

I liked the penultimate paragraph, and mostly adored the last one (though I'd like to see the sentences in that one less wandery).

I really liked the active verbs where we found them--trembles, stumbles, cracks, bawls. Vivid. Wouldn't have minded more of them.

As this work progresses, I'd recommend paying attention to sentence- and paragraph- length variety; blocks of text like this can work just fine, but interspersing shorter paragraphs may prove necessary over the long run to give the reader a bit of a break.

Overall, though, this was a better sample than it might seem from my nitpicking. It's very solid writing, and a great hook near the end of page 1 (the implications inclued by the italicized portion.) I liked it a lot, and with some judicious editing I'd like it even more.

Good work. Good luck going forward!

[Jessica]

Like Ray, I really liked the little boy, and seeing everything through his eyes made the description stand out for me.

At the same time, I found the writing a little heavy-handed. I, personally, am turned off by stories written in the present tense, though this is my own preference, and there are plenty of people who disagree with me.

I'd have turned the page because I liked the main character and cared about what happened to him. I'd have turned it with reservations, though.

[Deana]

Kim said:

"If it went on too long about chandeliers, etc, though, I might start getting antsy."

I wonder how much "antsy" you can expect an agent to put up with...

...just sayin'.

[Sheila]

I liked this. I agree with Ray about the penultimate sentence though - we are with the boy, looking up at a spot over his father's right shoulder, and then we're talking about the lights in the corners. That transition jarred me out of the story.

Also, this is a very small nitpick, but in this sentence:

A footman cracks the left-hand door and bawls, “His Royal Lordship and His Lordship's Preceptor!”

I didn't like the bawls. To me, bawling is like a child crying. I hear a footman's announcing voice in my head as clear and loud, and I think you can find a better word for it.

Good luck!

[Deschanel]

"bowing deeply (feet together—none of your sashaying pixie-like curtsies)," . Can I say how much I hated this?

Girls curtsy, not boys. MY pixies? What the hell?

"Sashay" is a drag-queen expression popularized by RuPaul in the 90's. It also describes a walking, strutting motion- not a bow.
Jarring, modern gay slang.

He bowed deeply- but not like some fag, seems to be the implication. What? Pretty gratuitous there.

[Ray Rhamey]

To Deschanel: please keep it civil. The word "hate" should never appear on this site or in a critique of anyone's work. FtQ is about constructive criticism, and there is nothing constructive about "hate."

I also have a problem with the use of nasty labels such as "fag." This not called for. As for it being modern, gay slang, if this is a historical novel, it isn't. In these few 16 lines, you can't possibly know enough about this world or the antecedents of lines such as the "sashay" one to be so certain about your interpretation, in my view.

Please keep it positive.

[Wendy]

Correction to Deschanel: the word 'sashay' was certainly not coined in the 1990's by RuPaul, and its use is not exclusive to drag queens or homosexuals. It's a mispronunciation of 'chassé', a dance movement in ballet, and has been in use for much longer than you think.

On to the story. Like Jessica, I am turned off by present-tense narration, but even allowing for that matter of personal taste, there were other issues that pulled me out of the story.

I found the little boy sympathetic - who wouldn't, really, who has ever been nine years old and a bit cowed by adults - but I wanted to know his name, and to see more closely how he felt and reacted to his situation. And, as has been said, bringing him face to face with his father, only to have him appear to then focus on the details of the room, was a slamming on of the brakes for me.

I might have turned the page (though I said 'no' in the poll), but it would have been with reservations.