Hey, is anybody listening to these podcasts? Let me know? A sample of The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles is here. You can order a paperback or e-book copy there, too.
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.
Jeff has re-submitted a prologue and the first chapter. Here are the prologue’s opening lines:
And now, the first chapter’s openingWe were a family. We had no common DNA between us. We were misfits with no place else to go. Each could not have been more different than the other, so it was not within the traditional definition of family.
Faith united us. Hope solidified our purpose. Love bound us together. We walked through hell in unity, arm in arm, heart in heart, soul in soul and we became as soldiers who rally to the flag to stand their ground united against the odds.
Father was a Pneusian. You’ve likely seen them in photos or holographic recordings. They’re the ugly, reclusive, scary little gray skinned creatures with the considerable cranium and large almond shaped gerbil eyes. They are mind-bogglingly intelligent, frightfully pragmatic, exceedingly illusive and enormously effective. Pop was mostly an exception to the norm because he was a hybrid, developed as a bridge between Pneusians and humans in an attempt to intersect our frames of reference on the universe and develop understanding between us. He grew to understand us, but in spite of all his efforts, he was an utter failure because his own race couldn’t understand him. After they departed home to Pneusis he lingered, making his living as an electrical/mechanical engineer and in the autumn of his life, he accidentally adopted me and my brother Stuart.
A child’s cry reached his ears. The tone and resonance didn’t suggest an effort to make someone feel guilty, or get them in trouble. No, it was cry filled with honest urgency and not the kind one could tune out as Ira often did. He mustered his willpower to get up and answer it.
“It’s one of the girls, but which one? Why can’t I move?”
The child stopped to gulp air in quivering gasps, followed by a wail, ending with staccato squeaks. He fought for consciousness and forced his eyes open. The dark that swirled about him vanished like a waking dream. He focused on the overhead lamps. The light stung his eyes and his head pounded. He brought a hand up to his face in self protection.
“Ugn! What hit me? A truck?” He tried to get his bearings and peered through his fingers at his surroundings. “Is this sick bay? How’d I wind up in sick bay?” His mind was in a fog. He groped around his memory in search of recent events in an effort to gain coherent sense of what had happened. The ship passed through a sub-space irregularity. The deck plates trembled. “Are we out of Tev-Raxian territory? How fast are we going?”
The cry transitioned to howling then quieted to a whimper. He rolled to his side and looked at a blurry double image. Nikki’s spotted silver/grey flukes, so much like a dolphin’s extended out from her uniform skirt and hung over the side of the sick bay bed in the next space.
Despite improvements, not there for me yet
Some good writing here, for sure, and interesting things are hinted at in the prologue—but I didn’t know who the narrator was in the prologue, and the first two opening paragraphs became some of the kind of narrative that Elmore Leonard advises not including—stuff you skip. For this reader, a prologue has a better chance of catching me it it’s an immediate scene, not telling. I did like the description of the character, but wanted to see him doing something.
The chapter opening is clearer than the previous iteration, but there were elements that weren’t so clear. Are the quoted pieces dialogue, as in spoken out loud? If so, it seemed unnatural to me to be saying those things aloud. If they are thoughts or internal monologue, my confusion could easily be cleared up. For example, instead of “It’s one of the girls, but which one? Why can’t I move?”, write: It was one of the girls, but which one? Why couldn’t he move?
And, for me, there is still some overwriting going on. To illustrate, here’s one of the original paragraphs:
“Ugn! What hit me? A truck?” He tried to get his bearings and peered through his fingers at his surroundings. “Is this sick bay? How’d I wind up in sick bay?” His mind was in a fog. He groped around his memory in search of recent events in an effort to gain coherent sense of what had happened. The ship passed through a sub-space irregularity. The deck plates trembled. “Are we out of Tev-Raxian territory? How fast are we going?”
And here is an edited version:
Ugn! What had hit hit him? He peered through his fingers. How’d he wind up in sick bay? The deck plates trembled. Were they out of Tev-Raxian territory? How fast were they going?
In the opening, let the action show the reader his confusion. Rather than tell us he is groping in his memory, the questions in the internal monologue about where they were and how fast they are going show the groping—no need to tell us. If you can, created a crisp pace in the opening pages to sweep the reader into the story.
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
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 (up to 15 pages).
- If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.
© 2010 Ray Rhamey
I really like the idea of the misfit family. That is a good hook and made me want to keep reading.
Posted by: Ellie Ann | March 19, 2010 at 07:34 AM
I lost interest in the prologue after the first paragraph. This misfit family angle was interesting but there was much telling and nothing happening.
The first chapter opening is much improved from the last version but the opening paragraph spent too much time analyzing the cry. Also, telling me that Ira often ignored his child's cries doesn't exactly endear him to me as a character I want to read about.
Posted by: Jean | March 19, 2010 at 07:46 AM
Interesting. I'm not much of a sci-fi person but you had me with some of your descriptions.
A few editing-type thoughts.
"We were a family. We had no common DNA between us. We were misfits with no place else to go. Each could not have been more different than the other, so it was not within the traditional definition of family."
When I read this I immediately wanted to rewrite the first 3 sentences so they didn't all start with "We".
For example:
"We were a family with no common DNA between us. Misfits with no place to go."
I agree with Ray about the overwriting. I know it's hard but some judicious editing could make your story and pace flow more smoothly.
I don't know if this helps or not but I liked the prologue better than the first chapter. I was curious about the Pneusian character and would have liked to know more about him. I didn't understand how the prologue related to the first chapter.
Keep going! Good luck.
Posted by: Renee Yancy | March 20, 2010 at 06:37 PM
Hi, Jeff!
Prologue:
First 2 paragraphs were on balance a yes, but it went no-ish from there for me:
The first 3 sentences hooked me, but by the last sentence in the first paragraph, the narrator is explaining what I surmised from the first 3 sentences. No need!
The second paragraph is nice stuff. I want to know what happened, who this family is and what they went through. I'm hooked.
The third paragraph loses me completely in a history lesson, and the page goes unturned.
My problem with this paragraph is not the writing per se, though it's a little pedantic and needs a proofreading (an excess of "the"s in sentence 3, frex), but rather that I don't even know the main character yet, so I'm having a very hard time connecting with his father. In rapid order, we get physiology and psychological profiles, and why "Pop" was an exception to all the stuff I just learned. So if the MC isn't one per se (wait, he was adopted, I learn, so he wasn't one AT ALL), and Pop wasn't one per se, why do I care even if I know and like the MC? And then it goes on and on from there, layering more stuff onto the bit that I didn't care about in the first place.
This paragraph needs to die; I'm not mean, so it doesn't have to be a lingering death. But... story on the first page, please. :o)
Chapter 1:
Ah, now I remember this one.
Still a no for me, alas.
In paragraph 1, Ira's revealed as kind of a [vulgarity], and a ponderously-thinking [vulgarity] at that. So I'm not personally disposed to like him, and he's too analytical by half for me to intellectually enjoy his company. This is not off to a good start for me.
The second paragraph is a line spoken in air is unattributed -- I have no idea who's speaking or to whom.
The third paragraph spends a lot of time in that first sentence with the sound of the crying - not sure that's relevant, and the descriptions in the rest of the paragraph seem a little over-described.
Fourth paragraph: I can't figure out how to pronounce "ugn." And who is he talking to?
Etc.
Overall, the biggest suggestion probably isn't any of this, though -- to phrase it in form of a commandment, it's this:
---Put not your trust in prepositional phrases, for they might well be the death of the sentences they infest.---
First-draft writing is first draft writing; write whatever gets words on the page. But when presenting your stuff to others, I recommend that you look for opportunities to combine, eliminate, or at least break up prepositional-phrase chains. I find them in my own stuff all the time, so I know of what I speak :o). Why are they the "death of meaning"? Because they're long strings of referents that completely lose the subject or action.
If you're up for a bit of pedantry, let's look at this chapter 1 bit, breaking things up: {meaning} [prepositional phrase].
{A child’s cry reached his ears. The tone and resonance didn’t suggest an effort} [to make someone feel guilty], or [[to] get them in trouble]. {No, it was [a] cry} [filled with honest urgency] {and not the kind} [[that] one could tune out] [as Ira often did]. {He mustered his willpower} [to get up] [and [to] answer it].
{The child stopped} [to gulp air] [in quivering gasps], [followed by a wail], [ending} with staccato squeaks]. {He fought} [for consciousness] {and forced his eyes open}. {The dark} [that swirled [about him]] {vanished} [like a waking dream]. {He focused} [on the overhead lamps]. {The light stung his eyes and his head pounded}. {He brought a hand} [up to his face] [in self protection].
{He tried} [to get his bearings] {and peered} [through his fingers] [at his surroundings]. {He groped} [around his memory] [in search] [of recent events] [in an effort] [to gain] {coherent sense} [of what had happened]."
{The ship passed} [through a sub-space irregularity]. {The deck plates trembled}.
{The cry transitioned} [to howling] {then quieted} [to a whimper]. {He rolled} [to his side] {and looked} [at a blurry double image]. {Nikki’s spotted silver/grey flukes,} [so much like a dolphin’s] {extended} [out from her uniform skirt] {and hung} [over the side] [of the sick bay bed] [in the next space].
(As a side note, doing this made very obvious a repetitive sentence pattern employed here - "action, and action." Nothing wrong with it, but watch that it doesn't become a pattern because it very quickly becomes annoying.
--
Trimming out all the prep phrases, we have:
A child's cry reached his ears. The tone and resonance didn't suggest an effort. No, it was a cry. He mustered his willpower.
The child stopped. He fought and forced his eyes open. The dark vanished. He focused. the light stung his eyes and his head pounded. he brought a hand up.
He tried and peered. He groped. The shipped passed. The deck plates trembled.
The cry transitioned. He rolled and looked. Nikkis spotted silver/grey flukes extended and hung.
--
Clearly, SOME are needed to give meaning. So let's add those back in.
--
A child's cry reached [Ira's] ears. The tone and resonance didn't suggest an effort to make someone feel guilty, or to get them in trouble. No, it was a cry filled with honest urgency. [Ira] mustered his willpower to rise.
Ira fought for consciousness and forced his eyes open. The dark vanished. The overhead lamps stung his eyes. His head pounded. He brought a hand up.
The ship [had] passed through a sub-space irregularity. The deck plates [had] trembled.
The cry quieted to a whimper. He rolled to look at a blurry double image. Nikki's spotted silvergrey flukes extended from her uniform skirt and hung over the side of the sickbay bed next to his own.
--
BTW, this reveals a blocking problem - Ira's mustering his willpower, then fighting for consciousness. Seems backward, unless things sway and swing when he tries to get up in the first place, but then we need to include that.
--
Re: prepositional phrases, compare this to, I dunno. Let's take a well-known SF author, say, LeGuin. I'm doing this blind, going to go to Amazon, pick a random LeGuin paragraph from her most recent searchable book and compare it. The book is "Lavinia." Let's see if I'm full of crap.
{I went} [to the salt beds] [by the mouth] [of the river], [in the May] [of my nineteenth year], {to get salt} [for the sacred meal]. {Tita and Maruna came} [with me], {and my father sent an old house slave and a boy} [with a donkey] [to carry the salt home]. {It's only a few miles} [up the coast], {but we made an overnight picnic} [of it], {loading the poor little donkey} [with food], {taking all day} [to get there], {setting up camp} [on a grassy dune] [above the beaches] [of the river and the sea]. {The five of us had supper} [round the fire], {and told stories and sang songs while the sun set} [in the sea] {and the May dusk turned blue and bluer. Then we slept} [under the seawind].
{I woke} [at the first beginning] [of light]. {The others were sound asleep. The birds were just beginning their dawn chorus. I got up and went down} [to the mouth][of the river]. {I dipped up a little water and let it fall back} [as offering]{before I drank, saying the river's name, Tiber, Father Tiber, and his old, secret names as well, Albu, Rumon. Then I drank, liking the half-salt taste} [of the water]. {The sky was light enough now that I could see the long, stiff waves} [at the bar] [where the current] {met the incoming tide}.
--
Trimmed out, we have:
--
I went to get salt*. Tita and Maruna came, and my father sent an old house slave and a boy. It's only a few miles, but we made an overnight picnic, loading the poor little donkey, taking all day, setting up camp. The five of us had supper and told stories and sang songs while the sun set and the May dusk turned blue and bluer. Then we slept.
I woke. The others were sound asleep. The birds were just beginning their dawn chorus. I got up and went down. I dipped up a little water and let it fall back before I drank, saying the river's name, Tiber, Father Tiber, and his old, secret names as well, Albu, Rumon. Then I drank, liking the half-salt taste. the sky was light enough now that I could see the long, stiff waves where the current met the incoming tide.
-
*"To get salt" I'm not sure of, since it's paired with a verb; it may be a prep phrase or may not, so I left it.
---------
When I hit the first line, I thought my theory was doomed :o). But the bulk of the quoted opening is actual meat, as it turns out, and not frosting.
What it comes down to, I think, is this. In professional writing:
+ Prepositional phrases are seasoning, not meat (or pasta for my vegetarian friends).
+ Base sentences should always make sense when the prepositional phrases are stripped away.
+ Prepositional phrases should add meaning to the base sentence but should not themselves obstruct the sentence's meaning.
Hope this helps. GOod luck, and thanks for sharing!
-j
Posted by: jon | March 22, 2010 at 10:11 AM