Flogometer for Penny: would you turn the page?

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Hey, pal, can you spare a review for Barnes & Noble? There are 17 reviews of Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells up at Amazon, but none at Barnes and Noble. If you can spare a minute and have read my book, I would appreciate your adding a review here. 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). 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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Penny’s first 16 lines:

All I can see is an empty bottle of pills, rolling on its side, lacquered wood tile, sad rueful silhouettes, a gauzy space-bent overture of light and sound, density-deep colors sink, bubbling pink above the fray- I can see a carcass carried, past paintings, pictures, idle eyes idyllic times, creak and slam the doorway pans, a blinding blot of sun, whose rays now string the scene undone, undulating cityscape, arrhythmic limbs defiant faces, “By God’s great glory stay awake!” eyelids in and out, lashes flurry, nails hook, pressing, prying with whim, a schism of skin, dwindling curvatures, feral fangs of searing sun, phantasmagoria too fast wrung, amorphous globs of flesh gyrating, debating, howling incantations, train stations fair maidens, jogging, “Buy Rod’s stale whorry paint!”, noses lips teeth hips, turns and dips, whip, singing skin, whip, again and again, by follicles hung a slithering slump, “I hypnotize the Devil’s brain!”, rain, weeping windows receding sunstrobe SMACK, red nose, a river flows a pitcher throws SMACK, red nose grows, joins slack sedated maw, serrated spades in vocal chains, “Playyyywithtrayyys!”, incoherence, interference, SMACKSMACK, stillness surrounds, I can see them lug a body out, involuntary spasms, writhing mechanic, automatic doors crystalline floors, wheelchair circumventing stairs, perpetual frisson denial implicit, shirt off pants down lay back go NOW, wires plastered to skin, tubes funneled within, white coats brown faces, deft (snip)

I just wasn’t willing to work that hard
There are poetic elements in this stream-of-consciousness narrative, but this imposing scramble of words and thoughts didn’t engage me. The thought of inching through much more was off-putting, and I just wasn’t hooked by interest in a character or what might be going on to turn the page.

On the next page the ramble/rant ended and the narrative took a more ordinary form. Let’s see if you think that works better—caution, adult language ahead.

Almost as soon as I get up I’m pushed back down. “Hospital policy.” A flower-scrubbed nurse and a guard in standard garb are rolling me steady down a sky-lit hall. The nurse, a forty-something frazzled looking single mother type, hasn’t stopped musing since we left the ICU, in that cozily altruistic single mother fashion. The guard has remained mute save for the informative bit, and walks authoritative at our back.

“I guess I’m crazy.’

“You’rrrre not crazy,” she assures, the nurse does, in a long drawn slur. “Just a little mixed up.” I enjoy her coddling.

“I’m a fuck up, a headcase, a downright disappointment.” It’s not as if I haven’t my own mother. It’s not as if my own biological mother doesn’t strive to show affection, and it’s not as if I don’t shunt those efforts defiantly. This is beyond me, or rooted, wired, wrought deep within me, a disease of the cells that shoots to the brain and aches in the heart.

“Don’t talk like that, you’re a wonderful kid.” She ruffles my tufts of hair.

I’m getting some excessively sick and possibly somehow sexual pleasure out of this. Rather than digress into a nasty gambit of perhaps incestuous but undoubtedly fucked up Freudian-esque theoretical debauchery I’ll just take it for what it is. Just to spite my own (snip)

I would have turned the page with this narrative to see what happens next. The character, by the way, is female, and for some reason I thought it was male. Possibly because I am male and, absent any other clues, I went to my personal default. There’s strong writing here, and a strong voice, but it walks a line—be wary of throwing too much incomprehensibility at the reader at once.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. Email: email 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 with double spacing, 12-point font, 1-inch margins.
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

[kathy]

There are so many random images being presented,that without a clue as to why, I would not have made it to the second page. I would think that this how the rest of the book is written. Interesting as a pome but not for 200 or so pages.
I'm in between on the second page, but voted no because because of the last paragraph. It didn't seem like my type of story.

[Jessica]

I'm with Kathy and Ray. When I read, I want to read cohesive narrative, not try to piece narrative together from a puddle of images that don't mean anything to me, and may or may not have anything to do with one another.

The second snip looked interesting, but I was turned off by what struck me as overwriting. Prune adverbs. Don't say the same thing three ways when one will get the point across. Concentrate on story, rather than on making interesting or beautiful language. Story and character, ultimately, will make or break the sale.

Good luck.

[Darla]

I couldn't make it through the first post. Too many random images.

The second was more interesting but bogged in too much repetition rather than moving forward.

I also thought the MC was male in the second section - the nurse ruffling hair is more something I'd expect a motherly person to do to a boy. If it were a girl, she would smooth or stroke it. The sexual attraction to the nurse also made me think male.

[lexi Revellian]

Yes, I thought it was a male protagonist too, and my default is female by Ray's reasoning.

I'd had enough about five lines in. Then I wondered briefly whether someone was having a joke on Ray by submitting gobbledegook...

Maybe it's just not my sort of writing.

[Eden Tyler]

Hmm...I actually thought the protag was female. Interesting.

The first excerpt was just too much -- it would have worked for me (as I like this type of story) with a little bit less. The idea of everything being all over the place and info overload makes sense for the story, but it needs to be toned down a bit.

I voted no on the first one and yes for the second, but I think the first could work (and be quite different from other books) if it were still muddled but clear at the same time. Just cut a few of the descriptions to keep the reader hooked, but keep it jumbled enough so that we feel what the MC does.
If the first one was edited and toned down a bit, I'd prefer it to the second.

JMO... Probably not v. helpful lol

[Kami]

I thought the protag was male in the second bit.

The first bit is normally just the kind of thing I'm willing to read IF it's perfect, clean and accessible in every way. This wasn't. First example: sad rueful silhouettes, a gauzy space-bent overture of light and sound--you lost me here. Sad rueful silhouettes of what, and what are they silhouetted by? Light in a window? Overhead lights? I had the impression the person is on the floor. What is a gauzy space-bent overture of light and sound?

Because it's stream-of-consciousness, it has to be tight and clear. It's more challenging to write than any other form IMHO. It only seems to ramble because of the narrative form, but good stream writing doesn't actually meander. It's focused stuff that takes the reader along for a long ride.

The second bit, aside from some nits, worked for me, but it wouldn't hold me for very much longer. I'd need something for the pov character to do (protag) so that I can explore the possibilities. If the pov character will just have stuff done to her with her commenting, I'll go read something else.

I hope this helps.

[hope101]

There were poetic qualities to both that I really liked, but it would have been a no for both, although the second was much, much closer.

The first is too dense for me. I knew right away it was an OD attempt with an altered state of consciousness - and therefore, almost certainly a female protagonist because males so seldom take pills. That hooked me initially, but it just went on too long.

I liked this line in the second: "This is beyond me, or rooted, wired, wrought deep within me, a disease of the cells that shoots to the brain and aches in the heart."

Also, you've got a compelling story question raised. BUT, her dialogue with the nurse and then the last paragraph in particular gave me pause. Either she's got a significant personality disorder - in which case I'm fatigued just by seeing where this might head - or it's psychologically untrue.

Hope that gives you some ideas of where to go.

[Christine H]

I wanted to make a few points to perhaps help clarify the narrative, and give the author some ideas on how to focus here.

"All I can see is an empty bottle of pills rolling on its side." The only way this would happen would be if this person took some pills that were so strong she was knocked out instantly upon swallowing them, and fell to the floor while the bottle was still in her hand. This means she would probably not regain consciousness, in the case of strychnine, for example, which causes immediate convulsions and death.

Assuming she didn't die instantly, falling that hard would probably give her a concussion and knock her out for a few minutes. By the time she came to, the bottle would have stopped rolling somewhere.
So, on the first sentence, you lost me in terms of credibility.

"I can see a carcass carried." If talking about herself, she'd have to have an out-of-body experience to see it. And she wouldn't be a carcass because she's not dead.

I know I'm being really tough here, please don't think I'm mean. I'm just trying to get you to think about what is really happening here and hone down to the core of what the character is experiencing. There's a good story kernel here, you just have to expose it.

I found the reference to incestuous feelings in the second sample to be confusing, since this woman isn't her own mother and she says that her mother does show affection, and also because incest is usually between different-gender members of the same family. So this really doesn't make sense. It seems like you are trying too hard.

Relax, step back, and try to focus on the main ideas here. I'm not saying take out all the stream-of-consciousness or the poetry (which I loved!). Just choose wisely what to include. Your story will be much better for it.

[Christine H]

P.S. I did assume the character was female because the author was female, and because women usually prefer pills to say, guns or knives.

It would probably help to establish that right away, however, perhaps by having one of the paramedics call her by name.

[von]

Yes with christine. I am a nurse and an EMT so, despite being male, I was sure the character was female.

I like a good stream-of-consciousness, but in this case it didnt' work for me. Drug overdoses I see more as fading in and out, not a huge long ramble.