Flogometer for Sarah: would you turn the page?

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Interview, Part II, on Buzz, Balls & Hype The second half of my interview is up on M.J. Rose's blog.

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FtQ honored as one of Editor Unleashed’s 25 Best Writing Blogs 2009 This is very nice, and thanks to you who voted. You can see the complete list here.

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Amazing workshop response I just received a request from the Write on the Sound Writers Conference, where I’m doing my Crafting a Killer First Page workshop in October, to open it to more than 50 writers. This is apparently a bigger response than they’re accustomed to getting. Should be fun. I’m excited.

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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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Sarah’s first 16 lines:

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel of my new, 2008, black, fully loaded, Dodge Viper SRT10. It had taken me months to save up for the down payment, but thanks to the power Mom had over Dad, they’d paid for the rest. So I’d forked out a whopping ten grand and owned it outright.

Love ya, Mom.

Breaking Benjamin pounded clearly through the Bose system. A way cute redhead smiled and waved from her creamy yellow Beemer. I inched forward, waiting patiently to get home from a day’s work at Dad’s photo studio in Beverly Hills. Moving lights and setting stage for him to photograph the rich and famous, along with some of the hottest women on earth, was a dream.

As Breakdown started to play, a car flew past my window—in the literal sense—and crashed into the eighteen-wheeler in front of me. I jumped as my heart raced. The hair on my arms stood on end as electrical currents pulsed through the August heat.

Out the window—pure mayhem.

Two cars to the left slammed simultaneously into a bus. The grey minivan to my right stood on end, nose to the ground. With nowhere to go, I waited for someone to hit me and destroy my new car. The probability of dying should’ve outweighed the prospect of my Viper’s (snip)

I turned the page
The “what will happen next” question moved me forward. The writing is sound, and this in an interesting scene, so good job. There are, though, some nits, and I think the pace could be just a tad crisper.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel of my new, 2008, black, fully loaded, Dodge Viper SRT10. It had taken me months to save up for the down payment, but thanks to the power Mom had over Dad, they’d paid for the rest. So I’d forked out a whopping ten grand and owned it outright.

Love ya, Mom.

Breaking Benjamin pounded clearly through the Bose system. A way cute redhead smiled and waved from her creamy yellow Beemer. I inched forward, waiting patiently to get home from a day’s work at Dad’s photo studio in Beverly Hills. Moving lights and setting stage for him to photograph the rich and famous, along with some of the hottest women on earth, was a dream. (First adverb a waste of space, IMO. I question “waiting patiently.” If he’s in a rush-hour crawl, well, did you ever experience rush hour “patiently?” How about him being eager to get home? This is a bit much backstory for me, but acceptable)

As Breakdown started to play, a car flew past my window—in the literal sense—and crashed into the eighteen-wheeler in front of me. I jumped as and my heart raced. The hair on my arms stood on end as when electrical currents pulsed through the August heat. (Several notes here. I thought “in the literal sense” was a bit too removed and calm for such a startling experience. And it’s telling—if this had been pictured more strongly, it would help. Does the car really fly past his window, as in the air, or speed past? Flying would be more dramatic, and over his head even more so.)

Out the window—pure mayhem. (This is pure “telling.” The following paragraph shows us, which is all you need.)

Two cars to the left slammed simultaneously into a bus. The grey minivan to my right stood on end, nose to the ground. With nowhere to go, I waited for someone to hit me and destroy my new car. The probability of dying should’ve outweighed the prospect of my Viper’s (snip) (Credibility problem here—would anyone with that going on around him really just wait for something to happen? I’d be looking behind me, at the least, and getting ready to jump out of my car. I think this character’s reactions are not terribly believable. If there’s a reason for his under-response, it should be included. Me, I’d be scared, and I think most readers would expect this character to be.)

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

[Jodi]

I agree with the crit. It was interesting until the wreck, in which case it didn't feel believable. I've never been in a wreck before or near one (although close a few times), but I have been rear-ended and rear-ended someone. I wasn't paying attention to whether or not I jumped or my hair stood on end.

Jodi

[Sarah Jensen]

Thanks Christine, but now that I have a better sense for the MC, since I'm now further into the story, I know he'd kind of freak. And he'd be more concerned about himself than the car. He's a little selfish. :)

So, I've worked out the beginning a little.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel of my new, 2008, black, fully loaded, Dodge Viper SRT10. It had taken me months to save up for the down payment, but thanks to the power Mom had over Dad, they’d paid for the rest. So I’d forked out a whopping ten grand and owned it outright.

Love ya, Mom.

Breaking Benjamin pounded through the Bose system. A way cute redhead smiled and waved from her creamy yellow Beemer. I inched forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I studied the redhead. She lacked subtlety and stared at me. Maybe I could get a number while I waited to get off the I-5.

Rolling down my window, I smiled. “Hey.”

She held a hand to her ear so I turned down the stereo. A car flew past my window, above the head of the redhead, and crashed into the eighteen-wheeler in front of me. I jumped, hitting my head on the roof of my car. Screams erupted all around me. As my fists tightened on the wheel, I realized one of the screams belonged to me.

A black sedan slammed into the Beemer, driving the redhead into the exploded rig. I jumped out of my car, but the heat that blistered the air forced me back in. I searched around, hoping for an opening. The grey minivan to my right stood on end, nose to the ground.

[C.L.]

I said no because I felt the set-up in the beginning was too much. I got tired of the name dropping while waiting for something happen. However, the event of the car accident is something that without the above would have drawn me forward.

For me, it would be better if the car accident occurred within the first few paragraphs with the background doled out more piece-meal.

Something like having the car fly through the intersection, the chaos ensue, and the driver is thinking that after plunking down 10 grand and getting his mother to manipulate his Dad the car might just get destroyed.

If the action had preceded the backstory, I would have turned the page. Destroy a Viper, that'll get my heart racing any day.

[Gayton]

I turned the page, but that was because I was actively hoping the MC's car would get smashed up. He seems insufferably smug ("love ya, mom") and shallow (the name dropping -- even though none of the names, except Bose, meant anything to me). I don't think I'd want to spend a whole novel with this guy, unless maybe he has a huge comeupance heading his way in the first chapter or two.

As one or two people have commented, ten grand seems like an awful lot for a teenager (especially a spoiled teenager) to save over the course of mere months.

[jillibeans]

I love the second version you just posted. It feels more immediate and very shocking. Nice job.

[Dai Alanye]

Do all those background details count for anything plotwise? If not, don't need them. But even if they do, I would have mumbled, "Corn!" and put the book back on the shelf, thus not reading to the point where their importance is shown.

Just personal preference.

[Victoria Dixon]

I voted "No" because there wasn't a "Maybe" option. I don't know why he's so cool. Oh, there's a car flying toward me and three people just bit it. That's interesting. I might die, too. Bump up the fear to get the reader involved OR if the book is built on humor, show more of it upfront so we understand his reaction better. That said, your writing is clear. No problems there.