Flogometer for Richard: 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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Richard’s first 16 lines:

‘Come in.’

The same knock sounded on the door.

‘It’s open!’

Still no one entered.

Heaving a sigh William shoved his chair aside and strode to the door. He almost gagged as a disgusting smell filled his nostrils. What was that? It was as if someone had left their lunch to rot behind the radiator.

Grasping the handle he opened the door, but took a step back when he saw the man standing before him, partly because of the horrid smell he was giving off, but also, because of his appearance.

Wearing a dark travelling cloak and hood that could barely hide the scarred and mangled face that lurked beneath, the man was dripping wet mud onto the floor. William tried to recall it raining that day, unable to do so.

‘Can I help you?’

‘I’m here to see Mr Prince,’ the man growled.

‘Do you have an appointment?’

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Didn’t get me there.
While Richard is definitely doing the right thing for me in opening with a scene, there are some craft and clarity issues and, for this reader, a lack of tension in that the only story question that rises is what does this man want, and, while he’s not pretty, his actions aren’t threatening. I think too many of these precious 16 lines were used up by knocking and not responding. Some notes:

‘Come in.’

The same knock sounded on the door.

‘It’s open!’

Still no one entered.

Heaving a sigh William shoved his chair aside back and strode to the door to answer the knock. He almost gagged as a disgusting when the smell of rotten meat filled his nostrils. What was that? It was as if someone had left their lunch to rot behind the radiator. (The cuts speak for themselves—all that time no doing anything other than speaking to a closed door, but I should point out that “a disgusting smell” is telling, and using a “conclusion” word. Better to show, as in the use of rotten meat.)

Grasping the handle he opened the door, but took a step back when he saw the man standing before him, partly because of the horrid smell he was giving off, but also, because of his appearance. (“Grasping the handle” is an example of “overwriting”—unnecessary detail that slows pace. “Horrid smell” is a case of telling again. And I cut the whole paragraph because I felt that the rotten smell was plenty of mystery, and that we don’t really need William’s reaction to something we, the reader, can’t see yet—“because of his appearance” shows us nothing. We can get the door open in the next paragraph without all this.)

Wearing a dark travelling cloak and hood that could barely hide the scarred and mangled face that lurked beneath, the man was dripping wet mud onto the floor. William tried to recall it raining that day, unable to do so. (I think the first sentence tries to pack too much information into one burst. Let us see the cloak, etc., and then get to the dripping. Also, if he’s dripping mud, that implies it’s on his cloak, not just his shoes, right? But how is that logical? The picture isn’t clear and needs to be. Having William try to recall rain is, for me, slow on the draw. Why not have him just wonder where the mud had come from on a clear, dry day? For example: When he opened the door, a man stood there in a dark travelling cloak, mud spattered to the waist and dripping on the floor. Mud? On a clear sunny day? The hood shadowed a scarred and mangled face. William took a step back from the man’s stench.)

‘Can I help you?’ (In the real world, we would spend time saying things like this. But here I think we can ditch the courtesy and get to the mysterious stranger.)

‘I’m here to see Mr Prince,’ the man growled. (Sigh. People only growl growls, not words. Just use said. If you want to characterize the words, do it differently. For example: ’I’m here to see Mr Prince.’ His words were more like a growl than speech.)

‘Do you have an appointment?’

As the narrative continues, the man shoves his way in and knocks William to the floor. Much more interesting action than unanswered knocks, don’t you think? And, with judicious editing, it would be possible for Richard to get that on the first page, I think. Richard, you’re getting there, but I think you need to attend to what I see as overwriting—describe action simply and clearly, and let the reader fill in much of it. For example, if you write “He opened the door” the reader will automatically “see” him reach out, grasp the knob, turn it, and pull the door back. There’s really no need to describe all that. Keep at it, though, because the story sounds interesting.

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

[Deana]

I think most of Ray's comments are spot-on, although I didn't care for this particular correction:

Ray wrote:

"The hood shadowed a scarred and mangled face. William took a step back from the man’s stench."

Those don't really flow very well.

But Richard, it does sound like an interesting story. The only suggestion I'd add for you is to read, read, read, and really examine closely what successful authors do. Look specifically at how they pace and structure their scenes, mix action with narrative, and carefully choose which details to include.

That, and keep re-writing. Think of it like gold mining. You might have to sift a lot of mud to get at those shining nuggets!

[Kim]

What I like here is that you seem to be starting with a very interesting story--what's not to like about tall, dark, and smelly, appearing on your doorstep?

The way it's written right now, though, it's just not working for me. I think the problem is that the protag just isn't coming through. This has got to be a pretty unusual type to knock on the door--what does he think about it? Is he scared? Puzzled? Mad about the cost of cleaning the carpets? He's answering the door, but he's not really *there* yet, for me as a reader.

[Sheila]

I remember this - he dies, right? I couldn't find it in the archives, so I may be saying exactly what I said before. If so, sorry.

I agree with Ray that you need to increase the tension in this opening. And the way to do that is to get into this man's head and slow things down while adding hints that lure us onward.

For instance, imagine you are sitting at your desk working and you become aware of an awful smell (is that how you did it before? the smell, then the knock?) The smell - that's the lure, amplify it. It's someone's rotten lunch, no it's worse than that, it's the dead raccoon that got caught in the basement, etc.

Then comes the knock.

But why would this guy knock? He's a swampy murderer . . . with manners? Maybe he tries to open the door, but can't because it's locked, so we just hear a little jiggling. The man in the office, is he annoyed? perplexed? He doesn't suspect anything, but we readers know something is out there - draw us in slowly. Is the knock a scraping kind of knock, or a bash-the-door down kind of knock?

Good luck!

[Kami]

Sheila made a good point about the knocking. I really rather like the idea of a polite zombie, though. It tickles me.

"Excuse me. I'm here to kill you. So sorry. It's not so bad, though, trust me on that."

It may be that I'm really tired and not seeing a lot of issues, but this opening worked for me okay. I would have liked to get inside the character's head a tiny bit. A hint of what he was doing that got interrupted would be nice. Was he reading? Dozing? Knitting? Also, I found it more than a little strange that he would ask someone to come in and leaves his door unlocked. I had the impression he was inside a house that was occupied by others and that he expected it to be one of them. But if he's in an apartment, or even weirder, a house and just shouts at anyone to come in ... that makes me wonder, and not in a good way.

Good luck!

[Richard]

Thanks for the comments guys. Obviously I am not the best writer but I am learning and your comments can do nothing but help . He is in an office but I obviosuly didn't get that across well enough. Thanks.

[kathy]

In an office? Now the dripping mud makes sense. I too thought it was a house and wondered why he didn't know it was raining when he opened the door.
But I did like it, and would turn the page. I overwrite all the time and didn't realy notice it until Ray pointed it out.
Keep at it!

[Kami]

I remember the original and what I'd suggest is that you:
A. Find a happy medium between establishing the setting and getting the action moving, and
B. Establishing some tension in that setting/office before the zombie shows up. The tension can be low-key, like the Harry Potter opening referenced in a recent flog, or higher key--he can be working on something really important, something that if it doesn't get done, will have impact on the world. I don't mean necessarily that the city will blow up or the world will end, but maybe a family will go hungry, or an important message won't reach its destination, or something along those lines. Ideally it'll be a detail that will tie back into the story.

Good luck!

[Jon]

Sorry this took me a bit. We had layoff at my company yesterday, and though I survived I've been a bit distracted :)

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This one still doesn't work for me, alas. First the good, though:

I very much like the way it starts with a Mysterious Stranger (whom I'll be calling call Smellyman).

I also could be convinced to like an intro with "nothing happening," perversely, though I'd like to have the scene set a bit more before the dialog begins if that's how the book is going to begin. "Come in..." through "...entered" could be anyone, anywhere, so it does nothing to help get me situated in the piece. Between the non-evocative dialog and the non-existent setting, I'm just floating, listening to a radio play.

Setting the scene--either through description, or through something special about the dialog--might help set the mood and setting at the same time:

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"Come in." His voice was hoarse from yelling last night, but it was totally worth it. Ringside seats, baby.

The same knock . . . knocked.

"It's--" William coughed. Was it just the sore throat? What was that smell? "It's open."

Still no one entered.

Bastard. Making him get up. Didn't they know how much he'd drunk?

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...or whatever. I believe a piece might be able to start with "nothing happening" if it's got "something" underlying it--character and setting. Better is to start with character and setting with "something happening," mind. But I think it can work the other way, if the voice is strong enough.

(It -would- probably make sense, though, to take the suggestions from others and just jump into the door-opening, where things get interesting.)

Last, I liked the detail that the guy was in a cloak. In the age-of-radiators, that's a visual oddity, and it intrigued me.

Unfortunately, the piece has some significant writing issues that prevented me from enjoying it.

I'd like to see the two monster sentence-paragraphs (#6 and #7) broken up and paced better--either tightened (if brevity is the goal) or expanded (if drama is the goal).

There's a lot of not-very-important words happening: "filled his nostrils" "grasping the handle, he opened the door," "partly because..., but also because..."

What are Smellyman's most important details? What is the most important effect they have on Will.i.am? What does the writer want the reader to take away from this encounter? How should the reader feel about William and Smellyman? How can the writer structure the relationship between those things in such a way to guide the reader to the intended responses?

I'd recommend looking into these questions and others like it, and taking another shot at this opener. It has potential, but it needs some pretty good work.

Good luck!