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.
Dai’s first 16 lines:
I turned the page, but . . .The road fled through featureless beanfields of central Illinois, only phone poles and the occasional yard light—widespread on lonely farms—giving an illusion of movement through a wet black night.
Endless dark, she thought, trying to recall some poetry. Her life. Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to… My God!
She jerked the wheel.
The second time. A softer verge would have dragged them into the ditch—maybe end up plowing soybeans.
She craned her neck to see the back seat in the mirror. OK. At least Robbie hadn't sat up, poor kid. To take a six-year-old on a run like this… Not fair. But life wasn't fair, was it? And they had to get away from that horrid man—had to hide the child.
She longed for a rest area or even an all-night truckers' plaza, though the anonymity of a highway pull-off would be best. Couldn't afford an accident—the delay and maybe publicity, a police report.
That pig! Stalking her, spying on them. And then to come up to her bold as brass, hinting about his client. Offering fake sympathy and talking about helping. No worries over money—(snip)
The immersion in an immediate scene with some kind of mysterious
jeopardy attached, plus a child in danger, raised the story questions I
needed to want to know more. But, for me, there were important things
that weren’t clear—in particular, the relationship of this woman to the
child. If this wasn’t supposed to be clear, fine—on the other hand, why
leave it vague if it doesn’t need to be? Notes:
The road fled through featureless beanfields of central Illinois, only phone poles and the occasional yard light—widespread on lonely farms—giving an illusion of movement through a wet black night.
Endless dark, she thought, trying to recall some poetry. Her life. Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to… My God!
She jerked the wheel.
The second time. A softer verge would have dragged them into the ditch—maybe end up plowing soybeans.
She craned her neck to see the back seat in the mirror. OK. At least Robbie hadn't sat up, poor kid. To take a six-year-old on a run like this… Not fair. But life wasn't fair, was it? And they had to get away from that horrid man—had to hide the child. (First, a tiny bit more scene-setting would be nice, just to give a picture. Specifically, is the child asleep on the back seat? Have a blanket on him? Strapped in somehow? This was the paragraph that left me wondering about the relationship of the woman to the child. The first thing that raised questions was “a six-year-old.” While that can be a legitimate thought from a parent, it could have been more connected as in “her little boy, only six” or somesuch. More than that, the “hide the child” made me think that this woman was not the parent. Would a parent think of her child as the child? The rest of the pages made it seem that she might be, but it still wasn’t clear. If she is, then the emotional connection with the reader will be stronger if we know that for sure, and feel her feelings.)
She longed for a rest area or even an all-night truckers' plaza, though the anonymity of a highway pull-off would be best. Couldn't afford an accident—the delay and maybe publicity, a police report. (She’s fighting off sleep, I assume, but I think that it’s so much unsaid that it’s possible to miss it. I’d like a little something more direct, i.e. “longed for a rest area or even an all-night truckers’ plaza to close her eyes for a few minutes…etc.”)
That pig! Stalking her, spying on them. And then to come up to her bold as brass, hinting about his client. Offering fake sympathy and talking about helping. No worries over money—(snip)
As in the past, Dai’s writing is clear, with a crisp storytelling voice. Yet somehow I didn’t experience the anxiety this woman must be feeling if she’s truly afraid. I wish I could say why—maybe it’s because there are no consequences, that we know of, to her failing to escape. Still, I’d turn the page and keep reading to find out more.
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
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Public floggings available. If I can post it here,
Submitting to the Flogometer:
- Email your 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter as an attachment (.doc or .rtf preferred, .docx okay) and I'll critique the first page.
- Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
- 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
Because I myself have a young boy about this age and have taken many long, late-night trips (for other reasons, obviously, but I'm familiar with the syndrome,) I was instantly pulled in. I really like this writing.
I was just a little confused about the bean fields. If it's so dark, how does she know what's actually growing in the fields she's passing? And, if she's trying to stay awake, why not have the radio on? I usually blast the radio and crack the window to get cold air on my face when I'm trying to stay awake, especially at night. Sleeping kid be darned... more important for Mom to be alert. Just my two cents! But great writing, IMHO.
Posted by: Christine H | December 28, 2009 at 08:10 AM
I voted to turn the page, but for ME the style was overdone and I don't know how much longer I would have dealt with it. That's personal taste, not a criticism.
I would have left the man out of the first page, and concentrated on the flight. I found him to be distracting at this early point. Again, personal taste.
I agree with Ray that there are two crucial points that aren't clear: is she fighting off drowsiness, and what's the child's relationship to her?
A pet peeve of mine: doesn't "she" have a name? The child has a name, and she doesn't. Is there some reason that you're hiding the protagonist's name from us?
Picking on a word choice (one of my habits): in the first paragraph, I don't think the poles and lights give the "illusion" of movement, they give the "sense" of movement. I'm not convinced that "movement" is the best choice, either.
Last sentence in the fifth paragraph: "They... had to hide the child." I assume that you meant that *she* had to hide the child.
I didn't follow the logic of a highway pull-off being more anonymous than a busy rest area or truck stop. It seems to me her car would be quite prominent all alone at a pull-off.
A good effort with well-handled English. Just not my personal style, but you can't please everyone.
Posted by: Doug | December 28, 2009 at 08:50 AM
I said "no" because I thought there was too much trying to use different words when it should be the story carrying me along. e.g. "The road fled..." It turned me off. "A softer verge..." clinched it.
FWIW.
Norm
Posted by: Norm | December 28, 2009 at 10:37 AM
I would turn this page. The story questions are significant, the voice both clear and appealing.
My assumptions from this snippet that I'll expect to have corroborated soon: the protagonist is not related to Robbie but might be a professional caregiver - someone like a social worker; the antagonist is powerful, well-connected and willing to use corrupt means to gain access to the child; because she's principled, she's trying to take Robbie someplace unconventional so he'll be safe; this does not occur in the present (there are word choices here that are old-fashioned ones).
Suggestions: Because "the second time" is italicized and follows quoted poetry, it took me two reads to be certain it wasn't continuation of the poetry, but meant to say this was the second time she'd made a driving error due to fatigue.
The "couldn't afford an accident" line would make more sense immediately following the near-accident.
Lastly, although it's well done, the passage is getting close to more telling than showing and a little infodumpy at the end. Like Ray, I'm finding my psychic distance becoming greater at the end of the page and the tension dropping. I think if I were to witness the child cry out when the car drifts, or a little more visceral reaction on her part consistent with fear, you'd hook me even more.
Overall, though, you pulled me in.
Posted by: hope101 | December 28, 2009 at 10:45 AM
I actually thought that there was a good balance between immediate action and telling. I liked the way the background was given in her voice. "The pig! Stalking her..." etc.
Posted by: Christine H | December 28, 2009 at 11:23 AM
I take back what I said about the bean fields. I reread the excerpt and realized that this is a geographic feature of Central Illinois. Sorry!
Posted by: Christine H | December 30, 2009 at 06:03 AM
Thanks, folks. As always, the critiques here make the writer rethink premises and modes of expression. I don't always take the advice but always profit from it, and in this case took quite a bit.
I strove for mystery in the opening, but will be putting some chapters up on Authonomy soon, and the tale will become more clear.
Posted by: Dai Alanye | January 01, 2010 at 02:32 AM