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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.
Tamara’s opening lines of a YA novel:
“Give me that shoe, it's my turn you wench,” Jenn said as she jabbed her elbow into my enormous stomach. I lost my balance and fell back harder than planned. The fat suit made me clumsy, but the inches of foam did cushion my fall. A few people in the audience giggled. That was my cue; it was time for my big spotlight moment.
I rolled over and pushed with my arms to pop my head up for the breakdancing move I had rehearsed. It was difficult enough to move my body like a wave in regular clothes, but with the chunky costume on, it was near impossible. Soaked in sweat, but fueled by adrenaline, I pushed even harder. I would do the best worm they'd ever seen. The gymnasium echoed with laughter. They loved me! They were eating it up, they were— actually looking in the other direction.
I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I could make out the faces of the audience because the spotlight had been moved off me, and all eyes were on someone else.
Jenn cavorted across the stage. She swung her rubbery arms over her head and whooped like a deranged monkey. When she bent over to try on the glass slipper, she pointed her rear end at the audience and scratched her butt crack with both hands. How was it that Jenn and I were both cast as Cinderella's obnoxious stepsisters, equal parts, but she managed to make her role better? It was just like her to show off; if I got a B in one of the classes we shared, she had to get an A.
Didn’t make it for this reader
The good parts: opening with an immediate scene, a likeable voice, and strong, clean writing. The shortcoming: lack of tension for me. To reach the level of “compelling,” at least one story question has to arise that demands a turn of the page to find out what happens next, and there wasn’t one here for me.
There’s some rivalry between the protagonist and Jenn, but it seems benign enough, and there’s nothing apparent in the lead’s future that might cause trouble. After the performance ends, there a little innocuous introduction of other characters, the character leaves with her parents, and gets some ice cream. There are tiny hints that some kind of sickness is going around, but nothing definitive, or threatening. The chapter, while portraying angsty moments of being female and fourteen, left me with no tension and not knowing what the story was about. So, nice writing, but (for me), work needed on the storytelling side. The goal to focus on, Tamara, is, as agent Donald Maass says, tension on every page. If not that, for sure the opening page and as many as possible after that.
As for notes on the narrative, it’s clean. I’d look at cutting the first sentence of the third paragraph and maybe combine the rest with the following paragraph. And I’d cut the last line referring to grades in classes. But, still, a strong question needs to be raised. I think that this amounts to well written throat clearing, a symptom of many new novelists. Find the place where her life changes, Tamara, and start there.
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 line edit/critique of up to 15 pages.
- If you rewrite while you wait you turn, send me the revision.
© 2010 Ray Rhamey
I agree with Ray. I think the story quest is about becoming liked or popular (in high school? middle school?). That desire is something we all girls (and boys though I think it's focused on girls) can relate to. Yet, it's in the undertone and not in the spotlight (sorry couldn't resist given the opening's location). Every character in a scene has a goal for that scene. What shows is that she's performing and performers crave adulation, that's not a surprise. The protagonist IMO needs to show that she's an outsider looking to fit in and this was her way of achieving that goal.
Ray is also right about starting in a scene. The protagonist has to show how she's striving to fit in and be liked (or whatever the theme is.)
Posted by: Norm | May 21, 2010 at 08:18 AM
I thought there was going to be something interesting, perhaps sinister in Jenn's cavorting. The way you put it across was that it was strange that the spotlight had moved...missed opportunity there I think, to introduce some tension.
That may not be the story you're trying to tell, but you may want to think about creating story questions for your reader and leave them hanging for a while. What if left a ? over the why Jenn was acting out? Have the protagonist wonder about instead? I think you'd get a bigger reaction in having people turn the page.
Otherwise the writing was strong, just wasn't quite enough. Most readers want to believe they will be entertained on all aspects of a story.
Good luck!
Posted by: Gumption Brash | May 23, 2010 at 03:25 AM
Thanks Ray and everyone else for your comments!
This flogging was just what I needed. The way Ray described the characters "going for ice cream" made me cringe all over in a very necessary way.
Twenty years ago, I was the skinny, not-funny girl wearing the fat suit in a play, and the whole book idea came from that experience: the longing to be better, the regret of failing. I may be too close to the opening.
Again, thank-you! Keep posting, I'll check back. And I will post my own rewrite in the comments as soon as I can. I've written the entire book's first draft and I'm slogging through revisions now. (Gah!)
Posted by: Tamara | May 23, 2010 at 04:25 PM
Quick rewrite, tell me if I'm getting hotter:
****
“Janie, that's your cue,” Mrs. Schmidt said, pointing to the stage. I would have corrected her for calling me the wrong name, yet again, but it was time for my big spotlight moment.
The fat suit made me clumsy, but the inches of foam did cushion my bellyflop. A few people in the audience giggled--not the roar I was hoping for, but I was about to blow their minds with my breakdancing move.
The worm was difficult enough in regular clothes, but with the chunky costume on, it was near impossible. A fresh wave of sweat flooded out from my every pore, but I pushed myself up and down, waving my body. The gymnasium echoed with laughter. They loved me! They were eating it up, they were... actually looking in the other direction.
Jenn Schmidt cavorted across the stage, swinging her rubbery arms over her head and whooping like a deranged monkey. She bent over to try on the glass slipper and scratched her butt crack with both hands.
Though I wanted to lay there until it was over, I rocked back and forth to get up on my feet. The air inside the well-used costume wafted out into my face. The suit's aroma was a cross between hot rubber and blue cheese.
For the final song, the group of elementary school kids who were co-starring in the production filed out, wearing grey mouse ears and painted-on whiskers. A sea of red lights blinked on; proud parents pointed camcorders at their kids. I counted only five little mice, half the number we had started with thirty minutes earlier. What happened? They were dropping like flies.
Posted by: Tamara | May 23, 2010 at 07:59 PM
If anyone checks back here, fyi, here's my revised opening as of now. I'm sending my book to my test readers this week.
****
The caption under my yearbook photo read Ronnie Lake, Perfect Attendance; was that the best I could do?
I cupped my hands and walloped the sawdust-filled mounds on the front of my costume to calm my nerves.
“Remember to feel it, enjoy your moment. You're on next, Molly,” Mrs. Hubert said.
I opened my mouth to correct her for calling me the wrong name again, but her gold tooth glinted amidst her crooked smile, and I couldn't sass a sweet old lady.
“Can I do the break-dancing move?” I begged. “The worm? I've been practising.”
She made her lopsided frown. “It's not very ladylike. Just do what we rehearsed.”
I'll do what I want, I thought.
One of the elementary school boys, no taller than her cane, tapped Mrs. Hubert on the hand. “I feel funny, I have tummy beans.” He doubled over and barfed at her feet. She sent him to join the other sick mice. At the rate the mysterious illness was spreading, I would be performing the final scene alone.
The gong sound rang out through the gymnasium—my cue. I emerged from behind the makeshift orange curtain and skipped my way across the stage—a rectangle marked off by white masking tape—to my mark, an X of scuffed tape.
Posted by: Tamara | June 03, 2010 at 11:21 AM