Flogometer for Susan. Would you turn the page?

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How about a review of FtQ (the book)? If you’ve read Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, either with one you’ve purchased (thank you very much!) or an advance review copy, I’d appreciate your posting a review on Amazon.com. Just click here and scroll down to the Customer Review section—there’s a button on the right. Thanks in advance.

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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). 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.

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The first 16 lines of Susan’s memoire:

The Chinese proverb, ai wu ji wu, literally means “love my house, love the crow on it.” My future father-in-law introduced this saying to me on my first visit to Hidden River, my fiancé’s hometown in central China, during Spring Festival in 1995, the year we got married.

As the pungent, metallic smell of chicken blood wafted in from the kitchen, where Liu’s mother chopped away at the fresh carcass, I struggled to translate the proverb in my mind. Liu and I stood holding hands not far from the kitchen, just in front of the wooden beads and red silk flowers that hung from the top of the door frame of the middle bedroom.

“Zhe shi nimen de woshi,” Liu’s father continued. He smiled until his eyes disappeared into his face, while he covered his mouth with one hand to hide his teeth. Liu’s dad pointed to the room and said that only Liu and I would sleep in it after we were married. I thought it very odd that this room—with the only air conditioner in the apartment—would be off limits to the rest of the family, even though we would never live there. But I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want Liu or his parents to lose face, one of the biggest social faux pas you could commit in China. If I was good at one thing, it was saving face.

After Liu dissected each of the four words of the idiom for me, patiently translating the Chinese into English since my Mandarin was still rudimentary, I worked it out to mean “as long (snip)

Despite nice writing, I didn’t turn this page
Let me stress that I am no expert in memoires, and do not know what an agent or a publisher might be looking for. But I can tell you that I’m looking for two things.

First, a sense of a story to come. The recounting of someone’s experiences is not necessarily a story. A story has dramatic tension created by people involved in events. After reading this first page, I had no particular sense of a story developing.

Secondly, while I understand that a memoire is about your life, it also has to be about what your life (experiences/story) might mean to my life. Just as a good novel needs to contribute to my understanding of how to be a human being (in addition to entertainment), so, it seems to me, must a memoire. And be entertaining as well.

The writing is good, definitely solid, and I liked the voice of this character. Maybe I’m being too demanding (but I don’t really think so), but I think that a memoire needs to create some kind of tension, right from the start, as a novel does. I’d appreciate your comments on this. Meanwhile, some brief notes:

The Chinese proverb, ai wu ji wu, literally means “love my house, love the crow on it.” My future father-in-law introduced this saying to me on my first visit to Hidden River, my fiancé’s hometown in central China, during Spring Festival in 1995, the year we got married. (I wish the author would go ahead and tell me here what this means—she does later, but I had a moment of frustration.)

As the pungent, metallic smell of chicken blood wafted in from the kitchen, where Liu’s mother chopped away at the a fresh carcass, I struggled to translate the proverb in my mind. Liu and I stood holding hands not far from the kitchen, just in front of the wooden beads and red silk flowers that hung from the top of the door frame of the middle bedroom.

“Zhe shi nimen de woshi,” Liu’s father said continued. He smiled until his eyes disappeared into his face, while he covered his mouth with one hand to hide his teeth. Liu’s dad pointed to the room and said that only Liu and I would sleep in it after we were married. I thought it very odd that this room—with the only air conditioner in the apartment—would be off limits to the rest of the family, even though we would never live there. But I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want Liu or his parents to lose face, one of the biggest social faux pas you could commit in China. If I was good at one thing, it was saving face. (I liked the description of the father’s face and smile. There is good stuff here.)

After Liu dissected each of the four words of the idiom for me, patiently translating the Chinese into English since my Mandarin was still rudimentary, I worked it out to mean “as long (snip)

One more thought: would this be more interesting if it were written as if it was happening, as a novel would, rather than as a look back? To illustrate what I mean, an adaptation of the first paragraph:

The Chinese proverb, ai wu ji wu, literally means “love my house, love the crow on it.” My future father-in-law said it to me when I met him in Hidden River, my fiancé’s hometown in central China. It was the 1995 Spring Festival. We were to be married soon, and I was eager to make a good impression.

Just a thought. I know that a memoire is not a novel, but for this reader to read it, there has to be story value, and that has to be apparent from page one. Susan has rewritten this after a previous flogging, and this is a big improvement. I like the way she starts with a scene here, and lets us in on the character’s experience. Even if the memoire genre doesn’t require the two things I felt were lacking—story and application to my life—I feel this would be stronger if it had those elements. Keep at it, Susan, you’re making excellent progress.

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

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[Jan (hope101)]

I said no too, and for the same issues.

I can feel the conflict wanting to happen--I think you've hinted at it with the crow saying and that she's eager to keep the societal norms present. I'd just like it to feel a little more urgent.

eg. Right after the crow proverb is uttered--which I'd do in real-time, BTW--what if she turned to her husband and asked, "Who's the crow in that story? Is it me?" Then he could hush her and translate the politically-correct version of her question. We'd get the idea of tension between cultures and in her marriage in one fell swoop.

So, my suggestions: Show, rather than tell, and prune the story so we see the nuggets of conflict.

What I like: the clear voice, the setting, and the smile on her FIL's face too. :)

[Lunatic]

I said no as well. When I read the proverb, I thought I'd be saying yes, but you lost me. The proverb is cool, and it sets up the conflict, but you drop it. You had ample opportunity, too. I assume the crow is something bad that comes along with the house. Well, if you ennd that first paragraph with a hint of what that is, or just let the reader know that there is something that the MC will find offensive or "bad" in some way, then I'd read on to find out what it is.

Also, "pungent" smells "wafting" have become cliche in the critiques I do. For some reason, everyone loves "wafting". But "wafting" tends to happen out in open spaces, smells carried on gentle breezes through valleys, is what wafting conveys to me. If you're standing in a kitchen or near a kitchen, you're in a confined space and the smell is concentrated. Makes me think the MS needs some revising.

Good luck.
Fred

[C. King]

I did not turn the page, however the first line definitely caught me. If the rest of page had built on it to create a conflict/interest, I would have continued. I think the elements of a story are there, they just have to be massaged to create interest and pose questions that the reader will want to resolve by continuing. What does the crow represent? How will the protagonist learn the meaning of the crow? Will someone tell her, or will the story revolve around her assimilation into this other culture and how she comes to understand the saying?

[Lexi Revellian]

I'd have turned the page - I like this, and its 'voice'. I like the promise of becoming familiar with a strange culture, and it's written simply and clearly.

My one reservation is the gnomic proverb - I'd like to have known what its significance was, instead of being puzzled by the very first paragraph.

[Jean]

Come on, I have to know what the proverb means and how it is relevant! You can't snip it there. That's just cruel! :)

Susan, I love the way you describe Liu's father. I had an immediate mental image. Awesome stuff.

I do like the suggestion of making it more happening 'now'. Then again, as Susan knows, I am a big sucker for present tense.

[Ray Rhamey]

This is a test comment; some have had trouble posting.

[Beth R]

I said no because I felt that too much of the first page was taken up by language issues. The proverb was interesting, but I don't know that it and the father's words needed to be written in Pinyin first. I'm learning Mandarin, so I enjoyed taking a moment to translate it, but it slows the story down, and that's the last thing needed on the first page.