Call for submissions: the end of the queue comes soon. If you have a chapter or story that could use some outside eyes, please see the submission directions below. Thanks.
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.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
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.
- Story questions
- Tension (in the reader, not just the characters)
- Voice
- Clarity
- Scene-setting
- Character
Karen has sent the first chapter of a memoir, Somebody Knows Something.
November 17, 1990. Minton, Ohio.
On a cold November afternoon, six-year-old Olive Copely goes out to play. Two hours later, she’s gone.
She is never found.
DANIEL & BRIAN
November 17, 1990
There’s a single car travelling down the dusty, dirt road known as Rural Route Two on the outskirts of Minton, Ohio. It’s a 1972 4-speed Dodge Dart, Plum Crazy Purple under the grey road dust; and, although it looks its age, it still can make tracks when it has to.
Today it doesn’t have to. Today it’s doing a lazy, zigzag amble back and forth across the road at the hand of a seventeen-year-old kid named Brian Sachs. Sitting next to him is his best friend, sixteen-year-old Dan Simmons, who just turned down The Kinks so he could count to twelve along with St. Patrick’s bells.
“That’s twelve on the nose—so where to now, Asshole?” Dan’s smiling as he asks, and he keeps smiling as he closes his eyes and stretches his arm out the open window, letting the cold November wind catch and lift his fingers up, down, up again.
“Mr. Asshole to you, asshole,” cracks Brian, flashing a smile. His window is all the way (snip)
Yes, but . . .
With the powerful story question in the opening, I wanted to turn the page to find out more about what happened to this little girl. And the part that follows suggests that these two had something to do with it.
The writing is nicely done, for the most part, but there’s a clarity issue, and I wonder if the tension couldn’t be increased. Notes:
November 17, 1990. Minton, Ohio.
On a cold November afternoon, six-year-old Olive Copely goes out to play. Two hours later, she’s gone.
She is never found.
DANIEL & BRIAN
November 17, 1990
There’s a single car travelling down the dusty, dirt road known as Rural Route Two on the outskirts of Minton, Ohio. It’s a 1972 4-speed Dodge Dart, Plum Crazy Purple under the grey road dust; and, although it looks its age, it still can make tracks when it has to. I suggest making the opening sentence crisper: A single car travels down the dusty, dirt road known as Rural Route Two on the outskirts of Minton, Ohio.
Today it doesn’t have to. Today it’s doing a lazy, zigzag amble back and forth across the road at the hand of a seventeen-year-old kid named Brian Sachs. Sitting next to him is his best friend, sixteen-year-old Dan Simmons, who just turned down The Kinks so he could count to twelve along with St. Patrick’s bells. Clarity issue that took me out of the story--I didn’t know what the St. Patrick’s bells referred to, and had to go back to parse it out. Simply changing “St. Patrick’s” to “the church” would help. I know it’s a way of establishing time of day, and that’s fine--just make sure it’s perfectly clear.
“That’s twelve on the nose—so where to now, Asshole?” Dan’s smiling as he asks, and he keeps smiling as he closes his eyes and stretches his arm out the open window, letting the cold November wind catch and lift his fingers up, down, up again.
“Mr. Asshole to you, asshole,” cracks Brian, flashing a smile. His window is all the way (snip) While this is fun characterization, this is, after all, the first page. Why not be up front about this? I suggest editing down the description above and changing this line of Brian’s dialogue to include what he says at the top of the next page: Let’s go the long way around so we can swing by the Copely place. This clearly hooks the opening and what follows together, and, for me, enhances my interest because I feel fairly certain that these guys have a part in the little girl’s story.
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
Submitting to the Flogometer:
Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred, no PDFs):
- your title
- your complete 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
- 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.
© 2012 Ray Rhamey
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