My book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, is now available for pre-order at Amazon.com. I should be printing and shipping within in a few weeks, and early orders will be tremendously helpful.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). Directions for submissions are below.
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.
Sandra’s first 16 lines:
I turned the pageAs soon as Paul Harrison left the stage, he ripped the holoprojector bands off his arms. His skin had been itching since noon, but it appeared normal. The sensation reminded him of the way his skin tingled whenever he crossed between the two universes. This time, however, the prickling was disturbing, not invigorating. He couldn’t referee Hamlet’s final duel while scratching himself till he bled.
Paul strode toward the green room to check the medicine cabinet. As he passed the scenery control center, the stage-doorkeeper beckoned him. “Harrison, you’ve got a visitor.”
“In the middle of a performance? Who is it?”
“She says she’s your sister. She was pounding on the side door. She said there was an emergency, so I thought I should let you talk to her before I have her escorted away.”
This was as weird as his itching. Cass wasn’t as involved in his acting as Mom was, but she knew better than to interrupt a performance. Cass hadn’t even planned to watch him today; she and Dad were supposed to be buying clothes and personal supplies.
“Take me to her,” Paul said.
They raced past the central control station, where the director looked away from the holo of the stage — King Claudius was admitting his guilt — to stare at Paul. Paul felt his cheeks (snip)
This one was close. I paused before going on, but the writing is good and clean, and there were sufficient story questions. However, the next page needs to crank up the tension with respect to the protagonist even more. I did feel that this could be tighter. Some notes:
As soon as Paul Harrison left the stage, he ripped the holoprojector bands off his arms. His skin had been itching since noon, but it appeared normal. The sensation reminded him of the way his skin tingled whenever he crossed between the two universes. This time, however, the prickling was disturbing, not invigorating. He couldn’t referee Hamlet’s final duel while scratching himself till he bled. (Nicely done in the way this introduces the world and introduces a minor concern.)
Paul strode toward the green room to check the medicine cabinet. As he passed the scenery control center, the stage-doorkeeper beckoned him. “Harrison, you’ve got a visitor.” (Here’s where things could get the story wheel turning more quickly. Why would the doorkeeper just say he had a visitor when he knows that the visitor claims to be Paul’s sister and that there’s an emergency. Thought-starter: have the stagehand say something more direct, such as ”Harrison, there’s a girl says she’s your sister at the side door, says your mother’s in the hospital.” If I were the sister, I’d have told the stagehand at least this much, not a generic “there’s an emergency.” If the narrative does this here, then you can cut all that I’m about to cut and jump the story ahead.)
“In the middle of a performance? Who is it?”
“She says she’s your sister. She was pounding on the side door. She said there was an emergency, so I thought I should let you talk to her before I have her escorted away.”
This was as weird as his itching. Cass wasn’t as involved in his acting as Mom was, but she knew better than to interrupt a performance. Cass hadn’t even planned to watch him today; she and Dad were supposed to be buying clothes and personal supplies.
“Take me to her,” Paul said.(None of what I cut is essential to story. What matters now is what’s wrong. And think of this; if you only get 16 lines on the first page to hook your reader, this change gives you 7 more lines to sink the reader deeper into the story and the world.)They raced past the central control station, where the director looked away from the holo of the stage — King Claudius was admitting his guilt — to stare at Paul. Paul felt his cheeks (snip)
As I said, good, clean writing, but I think you can pack a lot more
drama and tension into the narrative both here and in what follows. The
itching sounds like a mere inconvenience at this point, but I’d push it
into something unusual and more troublesome as soon as you can. What if
the next wave ends in points of deep pain in his arms? My advice: strip
this down to a son responding to learning that his mother is in the
hospital and his response to that, and simultaneously escalate what’s
wrong with him. If his condition worsens and yet he ignores it to go to
his mother’s side, he’s a better character, yet his personal jeopardy
increases. Keep at it, you’ve got a good thing going.
Comments, anyone?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
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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 format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
- 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.
© 2009 Ray Rhamey
I liked the pace and tone of this and would turn the page. I didn't think that the itching added to the story and found it a little like filler.
Posted by: kathy | March 18, 2009 at 07:10 AM
I was intrigued by the holoprojecter bands being used in the play. I hope at some point it's explained how this enhances the performance. I wasn't sure if the two universes referred to two actual different universes or one was a virtual universe (as created by the holoprojecter) or even both were virtual universes (different lamina). I would keep reading to find out.
My assumption is that the itch hints at the breakdown or disruption of tech which is soon to lead to a much more dangerous situation.
Posted by: Tara Maya | March 18, 2009 at 08:43 AM
I also had problems with trying to guess if he literally meant two universes or virtual vs. RL.
I liked the itching, especially since it told me something about the world while revealing that something might be going wrong.
The lead up to the emergency is a bit slow to get rolling--I think Ray's suggestion works, though there are other directions to take it.
Nice work! I would turn the page on this one.
Posted by: Kami | March 18, 2009 at 12:29 PM
My reaction was opposite to Ray's -- the first paragraph didn't engage me at all. It seemed to be trying to pack as much info in as possible instead of telling the story. But that's JMHO.
Posted by: Liz C | March 18, 2009 at 02:04 PM
As written, I wouldn't turn the page. It was the dialogue that stopped me. IMO, it was narrative put in dialogue form to advance the plot, and it felt like dead weight. Ray's suggestions were spot-on, and with that change, I'd be a turner. Overall, very nice!
Posted by: MCD | March 18, 2009 at 06:40 PM
Thanks to everyone for your comments!
Posted by: Sandra Almazan | March 18, 2009 at 07:58 PM