But first, have a laugh today. Check out my book on Authonomy —if you like it, register and back it.But second, sign up for the “Friends of FtQ NewsNotes” Email me with a "Yes" and your first and last name.
My book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, should be ready for shipping May 1. You can sign up to be notified of availability at Amazon.com.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.
Kieron’s first 16 lines:
Exposition jam stopped meLittle did Michael O'Sheen know he was on the cusp of a monumental find. Frustrated, angry at himself, he shoved his way past the beggars and traders of Male’s flea-market in the Maldive Islands, where indefinable aromas clung to him like shadows. The sway of his frame, curl of lip and salty roughness could scatter mothers with children, his boss once said. That plus his scruffy bandana and monstrous watch screamed danger. In reality, Michael O’Sheen was Scuba International's roving journalist, soon to be shown the swing-doors of his London office block if he failed to deliver - again.
To wipe his sweating face, he whipped the bandana off his neck, exposing a deep scar
-- donated by the swipe of a passing manta ray’s tail-end whilst diving off the Barrier Reef. He carried little with him as he scoured the cluttered market-place. When travelling, Michael took two spare changes of clothes, 35 mm Leica MP, an iPod and several thousand American Express travellers cheques in US Dollars ? plus enough cash to bribe his way around. His scuba equipment travelled unaccompanied in one bag. A rival magazine had recently described Michael O'Sheen's career as “diving into an abyss ? a literary pirate ? a legend in his own mind.” He didn't care. Thumbed his nose at the critics, broke the rules at every turn ? diving with just a cylinder strapped to his bare back and a pair of fins that bore the scars of several curious sharks.
The writing is good, no doubt, and things did get interesting later on—but not enough on the first page for this reader. In the first paragraph, there were point-of–view issues, and a lot of telling. And I’m not a fan of what the first sentences tries to do—interest me with something the omniscient author knows but the character doesn’t.
In the second, an info-dump is piled in front of the entrance to the
story—how is it important for the reader to know on the first page, the
page that needs to set the hook, that what this guy travels with, right
down to his iPod and travelers checks? I don’t think it’s necessary at
all. Some notes:
Little did Michael O'Sheen know he was on the cusp of a monumental find. Frustrated, angry at himself, he shoved his way past the beggars and traders of Male’s flea-market in the Maldive Islands, where indefinable aromas clung to him like shadows. The sway of his frame, curl of lip and salty roughness could scatter mothers with children, his boss once said. That plus his scruffy bandana and monstrous watch screamed danger. In reality, Michael O’Sheen was Scuba International's roving journalist, soon to be shown the swing-doors of his London office block if he failed to deliver - again. (First line: I believe the author should lead the reader to discover monumental events through the character’s experiences, not via an announcement. What suspense is there if we already know? What reason to read the narrative that immediately follows rather than skim ahead until we find the event? I don’t know about you, but I don’ think I’d find that a scruffy bandanna and a large watch would “scream” danger at me—this statement leads me to question the credibility of the narrator. What else waits that is so questionable? And the last sentence is the beginning of the info-dump, information that would hardly be on the character’s mind at this moment [the point-of-view issue].)
To wipe his sweating face, he whipped the bandana off his neck, exposing a deep scar
-- donated by the swipe of a passing manta ray’s tail-end whilst diving off the Barrier Reef. He carried little with him as he scoured the cluttered market-place. When travelling, Michael took two spare changes of clothes, 35 mm Leica MP, an iPod and several thousand American Express travellers cheques in US Dollars ? plus enough cash to bribe his way around. His scuba equipment travelled unaccompanied in one bag. A rival magazine had recently described Michael O'Sheen's career as “diving into an abyss ? a literary pirate ? a legend in his own mind.” He didn't care. Thumbed his nose at the critics, broke the rules at every turn ? diving with just a cylinder strapped to his bare back and a pair of fins that bore the scars of several curious sharks. There are ways to weave all this information into what happens. I just didn’t find the details of his travelling modus operandi interesting, much less compelling.)
A page or two later, the character buys a mysterious set of locks that he sees as leading to something very valuable (good story question) and the seller warns him to “Beware the Jinni” (great story question, terrific tension inducer). If Kieron could find a way to get those two things to happen on the first page, I’m certain that he’ll have no trouble weaving in all the throat-clearing information later. But first, get the STORY started.
Comments, anyone?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray 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 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 got stuck on the monstrous watch. Just how big and bad can a watch be? How did the scruffy bandanna/watch combo scream danger?
This speculation took me right out of the scene.
Posted by: Lexi Revellian | April 17, 2009 at 09:14 AM
Sorry, there were far too many details being thrown at me from the third sentence on. I was so busy trying to get past the curl of lip and scruffy bandana (and all that followed) that I couldn't sink into the story at hand.
Posted by: Darla | April 17, 2009 at 03:51 PM
I would have liked to know right away what the monumental find could be. Tell me what it is and why he's going to have all kinds of trouble getting to the 'find.' I got hung up with the monstrous watch, too.
Posted by: Liz | April 17, 2009 at 04:38 PM
I started to worry with the indefinable aromas. That may just be a writer reading another writer issue and not a big deal with readers. Every time I see something that the writer points to as being indescribable in some way implies that either the writer doesn't know, is withholding information, or didn't care enough to try. On the other hand, it's a minor detail.
It also seemed like the opening focused too much on making the character larger than life rather than presenting the situation at hand. That made Michael seem more like a caricature than a person.
I hope this helps!
Posted by: Kami | April 18, 2009 at 01:16 AM
I agree with all the previous comments, but... the exotic setting and the tension of the guy having to deliver...something?... to his editors still made me curious to know what happens next. Sounds like a rip-roaring yarn, curling lip and indefinable odors notwithstanding.
Posted by: Christine H | April 18, 2009 at 06:14 AM
Start with background or description or action, but not all three at once.
The Maldives are intriguing, though—always a sucker for an exotic locale.
Posted by: Dai Alanye | April 18, 2009 at 10:45 AM
Good points. Sorry nobody was tempted to turn the page, though. Revise and hopefully compelling enough for such discerning readers. (I realise this not a chat forum, but figured I'd post a new opening).
Many thanks indeed...
Male, The Maldive Islands
Scuba International’s roving journalist Michael O'Sheen shoved his way past beggars and traders at Male’s flea-market. His boss's warning still rang in his ears: Get a decent story, or you're out.
Ready to pounce on anything that’d make said story, he scanned the stalls. Was about to say Feck It when he noticed a table set back from the others. He sidled up. Rummaged through a wooden bowl and spotted a set of padlocks tangled in wire. He caressed them, peered closely. His heart skipped a beat. The trader grinned, his gold fillings glinting from near on every tooth.
'You want, American?'
'Maybe,' he muttered. 'And I’m Irish.'
‘Like Sinead O’Connor,' the trader offered, clasping his hands sincerely. 'Special bargain for you today. Only one hundred dollars.'
'A hundred? You’re dreaming. I’ll give you twenty,’ O’Sheen said, his blood pumping louder in his ears. Without eyeballing the trader, he held a crisp twenty dollar bill just out of reach. 'Where did you find these?'
'Bathala. That way.' The trader pointed seaward with his chin. ‘Half day in Dhoni.'
Michael knew a Dhoni to be a wooden fishing boat rigged with a single scythe-shaped sail. He figured Bathala to be one of the outer islands.
‘If you take me there − ' Michael offered, holding the note further away, '- I'll give you another twenty.'
'Deal. My brother will take you.'
'Tomorrow?' Michael handed over the note and watched it disappear into a grubby tunic. He stashed the padlocks in his rucksack.
'Tomorrow. Where you stay?'
'Club Med.'
'Ok. Wait on the beach at sunrise.'
‘I'll be there.' O'Sheen started to walk away.
'Irish.'
O'Sheen paused and glanced back.
'Beware the Jinni,' the Indian said, then turned as another customer took his attention.
O'Sheen stared for a moment, hoisted his rucksack and beat a hast exit from the market.
Posted by: kieron dowling | April 20, 2009 at 02:15 PM