Flogging the Quill

Flogometer for Suzanne--would you turn the page?

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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.

By the way. . .The critiques I do here on FtQ are “one-pass” critiques—one reading of the sample, and then thoughts and notes. For actual editing, it’s at least two readings and a much deeper analysis and annotation.

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Suzanne’s first 16 lines:

TeeJay Wainright clomped down the steps of the school bus, her heavily loaded backpack bouncing behind her.

“Bye, Mrs. Bartle!”

“See you Monday, kiddo,” the bus driver answered, just before shutting the door and driving off.

Her western boots scuffing dust onto her blue jeans, she crossed the road and continued along the verge, then through the park gate gate to #34, reciting what she mostly called her ‘philosophies’ but other times, her ‘mottos’.

She’d written them all down in her maroon scribbler, the one with the holes so she could keep it in a ring binder when she got one. Already, she had filled two whole pages with her list and was continuously adding more.

When you got an itch, you should scratch it. She’d heard her neighbour, Old Albert, say this one evening to his lady friend, Lucy.

Dawg eat dawg. Not sure exactly what this meant, she liked it because it sounded slightly ‘ominous’, another word she’d just discovered, which reminded her of huge black-cloud-threatening tornados. She had a whole list of words she liked; had looked them up in the (snip)

Didn’t compel me
Despite an attractive voice and opening with an immediate scene, the scene had virtually no tension in it for me. The chapter has a sub-head, “(In which TeeJay is introduced)”, but that hardly serves to raise my pulse. We have an interesting (but not compelling) girl coming home from school and ruminating on sayings. What’s the story about? Is there any trouble ahead? Suzanne, mind the advice from Guide to Literary Agents posted last time:.

The best beginnings show—within the first few pages or even paragraphs—the main characters under pressure and facing a challenge, a change in circumstances, or a threat that will significantly alter the rest of her life.

Notes:

TeeJay Wainright clomped down the steps of the school bus, her heavily loaded backpack bouncing behind her. (Right away, two things slowed my reading. One is an editorial pet peeve—a lazy adverb trying to serve as description in “heavily loaded.” No picture or the child’s experience there. What should we be seeing/feeling here? Can it be done more visually or colorfully. Thoughtstarter: her backpack so loaded she felt like she would tip over backwards. Also, I don’t think “bouncing behind her” is quite accurate. While it is technically behind her, it is also on her, so this didn’t seem to quite fit. Also, if it’s all that heavy, would it bounce? Finally, we all understand that a backpack is generally worn on the back, so this wasn’t really necessary, was it?)

“Bye, Mrs. Bartle!”

“See you Monday, kiddo,” the bus driver answered, just before shutting the door and driving off. (Couple of things. Not only is this less than riveting, it’s a bit of overwriting. Of course the bus driver shuts the door and drives off. For my money, the whole exchange with the driver and the driving off could be eliminated. The only important story element is that TeeJay got off the schoolbus, IMO.)

Her western boots scuffing dust onto her blue jeans, she crossed the road and continued along the verge, then through the park gate gate to #34, reciting what she mostly called her ‘philosophies’ but other times, her ‘mottos’. (Even for a non-critical submission as one for FtQ, there should be no typos. There’s a minor point-of-view slip here—she wouldn’t be thinking of her boots as “western” because she already knows that. This is the author slipping into the scene. Also, in America they’d be called “cowboy boots.” Also, there’s a staging question: how can the boots scuff dust onto her boots? If you scuff your heels in the dust, doesn’t the dust rise behind your heels? And is this a necessary detail?)

She’d written them all down in her maroon scribbler, the one with the holes so she could keep it in a ring binder when she got one. Already, she had filled two whole pages with her list and was continuously adding more. (While this detail about the scribbler is nicely wrought, is it contributing to the story? I don’t think so. This is a sign of “throat-clearing.”)

When you got an itch, you should scratch it. She’d heard her neighbour, Old Albert, say this one evening to his lady friend, Lucy.

Dawg eat dawg. Not sure exactly what this meant, she liked it because it sounded slightly ‘ominous’, another word she’d just discovered, which reminded her of huge black-cloud-threatening tornados. She had a whole list of words she liked; had looked them up in the (snip) (While this is a likeable person, where’s the story?)

Suzanne, your first chapter had good writing and nice moments, but when it ended all that had happened was that the character had been introduced—but NOT her story. The only way to hook a reader, or agent, or editor is with story. Hopefully, something happens to the character in chapter two—maybe you should look at opening with that.

I know how it is—in one of my novels, the real opening was in chapter three, but I didn’t see that until a critique group member pointed it out. I quickly rewrote it to get it up front.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Your donations help cover the cost of hosting FtQ. Just click the button to chip in.

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Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman 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

Flogometer for Brooke--would you turn the page?

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Helpful information you might want to check out 100 Online Resources That Will Make You A Better Writer is a new post up on OnlineDegree that has a bunch of helpful links. FtQ is on there, one of 6 sites in the “Online Resources That Will Make You A Better Fiction Writer” section.

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A reminder of why we’re here From Guide to Literary Agents comes the following. It was posted in regard to romance, but applies to all.

The best beginnings show—within the first few pages or even paragraphs—the main characters under pressure and facing a challenge, a change in circumstances, or a threat that will significantly alter the rest of her life.

If you opening doesn’t do that, or at least begin to strongly enough to hook a reader, your chances of getting the page turned drop drastically.

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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.

By the way. . .The critiques I do here on FtQ are “one-pass” critiques—one reading of the sample, and then thoughts and notes. For actual editing, it’s at least two readings and a much deeper analysis and annotation.

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Brooke’s first 16 lines:

Heath’s arms throbbed, but it wasn’t exhaustion that weighed on him; his heart thumped; the sweat from his palms stained his pants and he blurted between breaths, “Please, let it be enough.” He trudged up the hill towards his father who stood on a tall stone wall. As he approached, his father reached down; Heath jumped, grabbed his father’s hand, and swung to the top. He let go of his father’s hand and willingly collapsed on the thick stone, letting the cool rock suck the sweat from his forehead.

His father chuckled, “Long day?”

“The longest,” Heath replied. He closed his eyes. Straddling the wall, his gangly arms and legs swelled with fatigue. Heath’s head pulsed. Maybe I could get a piggyback ride. He opened his eyes and rotated his head just enough to see his father.

The tall burly man examined the mountain meadow in front of them. Stretching wide and long, the meadow’s long bluegrass swayed in the breeze and lapped against the six-foot wall surrounding the field. Outside the meadow, white branches of a thick aspen forest scratched at the fortifying barrier.

I passed, but a better opening was on the next page

Even though Brooke is opening with an immediate scene, a good thing to do, what I see as overwriting in the very first paragraph, a touch of a point-of-view shift, and the lack of story questions stayed my hand. In a moment I’ll pull what I think is a better opening from the following page, but first some notes.

Heath’s arms throbbed, but it wasn’t exhaustion that weighed on him. His heart thumped, and the sweat from his palms stained his pants. and h He blurted between breaths, “Please, let it be enough.” He trudged up the hill to towards his father, who stood on a tall stone wall. As he approached, his father reached down; Heath jumped, grabbed his father’s hand, and swung to the top. He let go of his father’s hand and willingly collapsed on the thick stone, letting the cool rock suck the sweat from his forehead. (In the complicated opening sentence, the lack of specifying what “it” was pulled all the power from what Heath is feeling. Since we never learn what “it” is, this doesn’t really have any meaning to the reader. I’ve trimmed some of the excess detail that slows and muddies this opening. If only the “let it be enough” had been clarified on this first page, there might have been enough tension to move me forward.)

His father chuckled, “Long day?”

“The longest,” Heath replied. He closed his eyes. Straddling the wall, his gangly arms and legs swelled with fatigue. Heath’s head pulsed. Maybe I could get a piggyback ride. He opened his eyes and rotated his head just enough to see his father. (“gangly” is a brief slip of point of view—it’s the author giving information. In close third person, as this is, a character should not think, feel, know or do anything that a person would not ordinarily do. In this case, who would think of his own legs as “gangly?” On the other hand, the age of the character was worked in nicely since it came from a natural thought from within his POV.)

The tall burly man examined the mountain meadow in front of them. Stretching wide and long, the meadow’s long bluegrass swayed in the breeze and lapped against the six-foot wall surrounding the field. Outside the meadow, white branches of a thick aspen forest scratched at the fortifying barrier. (Another POV thing—a boy would not think of his father as “the tall burly man.” “Long” is a conclusion word that isn’t needed here—the grass swaying in the breeze shows us that it’s long.)

Here, with a few little trims and adjustments to help it work, is what I think is a better opening from the next page.

The meadow’s long bluegrass swayed in the breeze and lapped against the six-foot stone wall that defended it. Outside the field, white branches of an aspen forest scratched at the fortifying barrier.

Atop the wall, “Heath’s father said, “Well done, son. The wall won’t stop them, but they won’t be able to sneak in unnoticed this time—by exposing them, we’ll have an advantage.”

“Thanks. I hid a lookout over there.” Heath pointed along the wall to the secret watchtower. “They won’t know we’re watching; at least, not at first.”

“Good. You know you’ll need help protecting the field.”

“I thought I would use the mountain lions.”

“Hmmph.” Heath’s father nodded. “They are fast, loyal, and deadly, if necessary.” He sighed, “They’re an excellent choice. Heath, you put a lot of thought into this, and I can see you’ve grown. I’m proud of you.”

Heath smiled, but his father’s approval didn’t calm his fluttering nerves. What if it still wasn’t enough?

Heath peered into the forest. “Do you think they’re out there right now?”

I liked much of the rest of the chapter, Brooke, but for me you teased too much and didn’t help me understand what the story was about. The threat, whatever it is, needs to be clear in the reader’s mind for this to mean much. There’s plenty of promise, though, so keep at it.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman 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

Flogometer for Jami--would you turn the page?

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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.

By the way. . .The critiques I do here on FtQ are “one-pass” critiques—one reading of the sample, and then thoughts and notes. For actual editing, it’s at least two readings and a much deeper analysis and annotation.

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Jami’s first 16 lines:

The switchblade clattered to the floor from Daniel’s slackened fingers. He crumpled to his knees, staring in horror at his mistake. “I’m so sorry, Demetri. I didn’t mean to.”

Demetri sprawled motionless on the linoleum in front of him. The blood-spattered rip in his shirt sat directly over his heart.

“I didn’t know it was you. It’ll be okay. You can fix this.” Daniel pressed his trembling hands against Demetri’s wound. “You’ll be fine. You just need to fix it.”

The man under his palms didn’t stir.

“Demetri, fix it!”

Nothing changed.

Daniel jerked forward to shake Demetri’s shoulders. “No, damn you. No! You can’t be dead!” But the pool of dark crimson soaking through the knees of his pants told a different story. His gaze skipped across the evidence, unable to deny the truth any longer. He released Demetri and slumped back onto his heels. Despite the anguish confusing his mind, he forced a coherent thought, “Renaldo, there’s been a complication.”

Would this accident destroy his hopes for the future? No, he refused to think about that. He remained paralyzed in his collapsed position while waiting for Renaldo to find him at this (snip)

Close, but no

Nice start with an immediate scene and strong action. You had me until the seventh paragraph. Until then, good action, strong story questions raised. It may well be that for some readers—and agents—that would be enough. But a craft issue—overwriting -- showed its head in that seventh paragraph that was enough to say to me that there would be more of them, and that was enough of a deterrent. Sure enough, it cropped up here and there during the rest of the chapter. This can be fixed, and there is good writing, but I didn’t think it was ready for prime time. By the way, this appears to be an angel story, and I think (but don’t know) that this protagonist is one. A hint of that on the first page would have been a big improvement. Notes:

The switchblade clattered to the floor from Daniel’s slackened fingers. He crumpled to his knees, staring in horror at his mistake. “I’m so sorry, Demetri. I didn’t mean to.” (The adjective “slackened” is a tiny bit of overwriting, i.e. an unnecessary detail. The reader will take care of “seeing” whatever is needed to understand that the hand has released the knife.)

Demetri sprawled motionless on the linoleum in front of him. The blood-spattered rip in his shirt sat directly over his heart. (I’m not sure about “blood-splattered” and “rip.” Seems like splatters would come from outside the body, but if this is a stab wound, which seems like the only thing that could kill the guy, how would there be splatters? Also, a switchblade has a narrow blade—if it was a stabbing, there would be a hole, sure, but would it be a rip, which seems like would come from a slashing movement? These are subtle staging issues that can add up to lessening the credibility of a narrative.)

“I didn’t know it was you. It’ll be okay. You can fix this.” Daniel pressed his trembling hands against Demetri’s wound. “You’ll be fine. You just need to fix it.”

The man under his palms didn’t stir. (The phrase I cut is another snippet of overwriting. We already know the hands are on his chest, so it’s not really needed. The important part is that the man doesn’t stir. Keep it simple and crisp.)

“Demetri, fix it!” (I like this. It suggests the paranormal and helps establish the nature of the story.)

Nothing changed.

Daniel jerked forward to shake shook Demetri’s shoulders. “No, damn you. No! You can’t be dead!” But the pool of dark crimson soaking through the knees of his pants told a different story. His gaze skipped across the evidence, unable to deny the truth any longer. He released Demetri and slumped back onto his heels. Despite the his anguish confusing his mind, he forced a coherent thought, “Renaldo, there’s been a complication.” (The deletions here serve to quicken the pace by deleting things that aren’t necessary. More needs to be done, though—“told a different story” is a cliché that should be changed. And the “forced a coherent thought” isn’t actually clear—he SENDS the though to Renalodo, who is sort of his handler in some sort of experiment gone wrong. This communication element is key to understanding the next paragraph and the paranormal nature of the story, yet it’s not clear here.)

Would this accident destroy his hopes for the future? No, he refused to think about that. He remained paralyzed in his collapsed position while waiting for Renaldo to find him at this (snip)

There are many good elements here, Jami, and the promise of a good story, judging from the bright spots in the rest of the chapter. I know it’s difficult to spot overwriting, but work at it. For example, here’s another bit from later on:

His jaw shifted and he bent over to collect his knife. After a sigh for his ruined pants, he wiped the blade clean, folded it closed, and dropped it into his back pocket.

In this piece, the jaw shifting seems superfluous. For that matter, so does bending over. And so does “folded it closed.” The sigh for the pants is a good characterization bit—the guy is not exactly upset with having killed someone. Trimmed, this could be much crisper, i.e.

He collected his knife. After a sigh for his ruined pants, he wiped the blade and slipped the switchblade into his pocket.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Your donations help cover the cost of hosting FtQ. Just click the button to chip in.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman 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