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 or 17 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.
Storytelling Checklist
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.
Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.
- Tension
- Story questions
- Voice
- Clarity
- Scene setting
- Character
Jeff’s opening lines:
Would you turn Jeff's first page? Be tough. Comments help the writer.survey softwareOn the day Janet Feffle's novel Dream of the Seven Sleepers went into a second printing, I received an unexpected delivery. The package, wrapped in plain brown paper, leant against my door. It bore no address.
I turned to the office secretary. "Who sent this?"
She looked up from her terminal. "I don't know, Mr. Gugel."
"Was it here when you arrived this morning?"
She shook her head. "I didn't see it when I put the regular mail on your desk."
I picked it up, glancing first at it, then back at the secretary, who shrugged. I sat at my desk and unwrapped the package. Inside was a book: The Court of Love, by Ernesto Savonthary.
For me to receive a book in finished form such as this was unusual, unless I was involved in its publication. I had never heard of this title or author. The publisher was a small press called Furst and Sons. I peeked inside for some note or inscription that might explain the book's appearance on my doorstep. There was none.
I glanced at my schedule and hailed the secretary through the open door. "Will you get Miss Feffle on the line?"
Many of my new authors were tiny stars with originality and charm but whose individual (snip)

Didn’t work for me
Keeping in mind that the goal here at FtQ is compelling, what happens here? A man receives a book. Oh, he doesn’t know who it’s from or why he’s received it, but are those compelling story questions? Not for this reader.
It turns out that the man is a literary agent, which makes receiving the book even less remarkable. About 2 ½ pages in we get to the interesting part—the book is from a man who committed suicide 5 years earlier. That starts to be interesting. Jeff, I saw evidence of overwriting in this mammoth 30-page chapter, something to watch out for. Notes:
On the day Janet Feffle's novel Dream of the Seven Sleepers went into a second printing, I
received an unexpected delivery. Thediscovered a package, wrapped in plain brown paper, leant against my door. It bore no address. (The part I cut is “telling.” Just who us. I think this is more interesting without the telling. I’m not sure about the opening line, but it may have significance later—but it doesn’t lend to the tension.)I turned to the office secretary. "Who sent this?"
She looked up from her terminal. "I don't know, Mr. Gugel." (This action beat doesn’t add anything. Later she shrugs, which would work better here and contribute to the mystery.)
"Was it here when you arrived this morning?"
She shook her head. "I didn't see it when I put the regular mail on your desk."
I picked it up, glancing first at it, then back at the secretary, who shrugged.I sat at my desk and unwrapped the package. Inside was a book: The Court of Love, by Ernesto Savonthary. (The sentence cut is a bit of overwriting—micro-detailing action that doesn’t contribute much to the story.)For me to receive a book in finished form such as this was unusual, unless I was involved in its publication. I had never heard of this title or author. The publisher was a small press called Furst and Sons. I peeked inside for some note or inscription that might explain the book's appearance on my doorstep. There was none. (More telling. For his thinking this was unusual to be meaningful, the reader should know that he’s a literary agent. Actually, in these days of print-on-demand publishing, I suspect it’s not all that unusual for an agent to receive a printed book these days.)
I glanced at my schedule and hailed the secretary through the open door. "Will you get Miss Feffle on the line?" (Why is he doing this? Why not stay with the mysterious book? For me, this deferral is not increasing tension but rather letting the air out of the tire. This is the page to hook the reader—maybe with that bit about the author having committed suicide?)
Many of my new authors were tiny stars with originality and charm but whose individual (Oops, we’re slipping into exposition. No, get on with the story about the mysterious book!)(snip) (Oops, we’re slipping into exposition. No, get on with the story about the mysterious book!)(
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.
- If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.
© 2010 Ray Rhamey



I gathered the protagonist was a literary agent. I didn't believe his interest in a random book turning up at his office: I get the idea that agents are definitely unkeen on unsolicited books.
I's a very small mystery to entice the reader with...
Posted by: Lexi Revellian | August 04, 2010 at 07:19 AM
Making the characters move through the scene is not as easy as some writers make it look.
Jeff's writing is at the level where the strings show. The audience/reader can see him struggle with the puppets. Some call it "clunky" writing.
I remember critiquing a writer who had her character say she needed to go pee and then even took us into the commode with her. Gah! But the writer stubbornly insisted that it made the scene more "realistic."
Jeff, we don't need to see every little thing, honest we don't. Sometimes less is more.
READ a lot more fiction is my suggestion. This is actually an enjoyable way to learn! See how accomplished writers get you to focus on the characters and not the herky-jerky of ordinary movements. And as Ray suggested, make the scene itself worthwhile.
I think you've got it in you, I really do. You put your work up here where you'll get a lot of good feedback and that's a great start!
Posted by: Q of D | August 04, 2010 at 07:32 AM
I voted yes, but only because of the first paragraph. It definitely caught my interest. But then you lost it by the bottom of the page, so maybe I should have voted no. If I were in a bookstore, I would have read farther before deciding, but the tension level definitely slips away.
If the protagonist is a literary agent, that completely drains the suspense. From what I've read, they get many unsolicited manuscripts and books, so when you reveal this, you kill the tension. And you don't give any reason as to why this might be outside of the normal experience for an agent. All of the agent blogs I read say they just pitch it in the recycle bin. Period.
"I picked it up, glancing first at it, then back at the secretary, who shrugged. I sat at my desk and unwrapped the package. Inside was a book: The Court of Love, by Ernesto Savonthary."
Here is where I began to feel that you were throwing in unnecessary details. Maybe it ties in later, but even if it does, it does not undo what I said above, that the book would probably be pitched away immediately. At this point, the protagonist has not given us a clue as to why he would try to find out who gave it to him. Show us why he would care, why he would expend any effort. Is Janet Feffle, his author, receiving death threats? Is it another Pulitzer-winning story from a mysterious unknown author?
"For me to receive a book in finished form such as this was unusual, unless I was involved in its publication. I had never heard of this title or author. The publisher was a small press called Furst and Sons. I peeked inside for some note or inscription that might explain the book's appearance on my doorstep. There was none."
For me, the above paragraph contributes nothing to the story. Unusual? Have you read any agent blogs? They get all manner of manuscripts all the time, including bound and unbound, handwritten, on strange paper or napkins, self-published, with gifts such as cookies or knick-knacks, strange letters from cranks, people showing up with manuscript in hand expecting to be treated like the next big thing, etc. I don't buy it. The paragraph is not believable as it stands.
That being said, the first paragraph really caught my attention. But the mystery needs to build on that (or at least not defeat it).
Posted by: glj | August 04, 2010 at 08:48 AM