Submissions invited: If you’d like a fresh look at your opening chapter or prologue, please email your submission to me re the directions at the bottom of this post.
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
Tricia has sent a rewrite of the first chapter of Death of a Small Town Gossip (previous verion here).
Clarissa looked out the peephole and sighed. She would've preferred to see almost anyone else. Before Adelaide could knock again, Clarissa opened the door a crack. "Hi, Adelaide."
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"Now's not a good time. My son has the stomach flu; we were up all night." Clarissa wished she hadn't opened the door. It was almost noon, and she still had on her pajamas and hadn't even bothered to brush her hair. She tried to finger-comb it. Her fingers caught on a tangle. Sometimes her naturally curly hair was a curse. "Besides, my house is a bit messy, and..."
"None of that matters. I came to tell you I caught your son shoplifting." Adelaide pushed the door open and walked right in. "Don't worry about your house. A few things out of place never bothered me." Adelaide walked to the couch and gathered the scattered newspaper. "My, you do have a knack for exaggerating."
"What's this about shoplifting?" Clarissa gritted her teeth.
Adelaide looked around the room again. "Now I can see this is not the best time, unless this is how you and your home usually look." Adelaide took a tissue from her purse and wiped absently at the smudges on the coffee table. "Do you know that Nancy Taylor is a dreadful housekeeper too, and Tammy Wilson never weeds her flower garden?" Adelaide sighed. She straightened a pile of magazines, then stacked up school supplies. "Don't worry, I'm not judging."
Almost (which means no)
Definitely an improvement, and a good story question raised right away. So why the “almost?” The longish paragraph where Adelaide starts talking about everything but the shoplifting. The pace and tension, for me, faded there.
But there’s a solution from the next page. It turns out that Adelaide claims she saw Clarissa’s son the day before, and he was in bed sick all that day. If this tidbit makes its way onto the first page and Clarissa’s reaction is included, then more story questions come up and tension is raised. I’ll include that in the notes below:
Clarissa looked out the peephole and sighed. She would've preferred to see almost anyone else. Before Adelaide could knock again, Clarissa opened the door a crack. "Hi, Adelaide."
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"Now's not a good time. My son has the stomach flu; we were up all night." Clarissa wished she hadn't opened the door. It was almost noon, and she still had on her pajamas and hadn't even bothered to brush her hair. She tried to finger-comb it. Her fingers caught on a tangle. Sometimes her naturally curly hair was a curse. "Besides, my house is a bit messy, and..." the hair doesn’t contribute much and we need the space.
"None of that matters. I came to tell you I caught your son shoplifting yesterday."
Shoplifting? Never. And yesterday? Impossible. He was home sick. Just as she started to say so, Adelaide pushed the door open and walked right in. here we use internal monologue to show Clarissa’s reaction and to increase the conflict ahead
"Don't worry about your house. A few things out of place never bothered me." Adelaide walked to the couch and gathered the scattered newspaper. "My, you do have a knack for exaggerating." I don’t know how to interpret the line about exaggerating. Clarissa said the house was a mess, so does this mean that Adelaide doesn’t agree? The later action suggests that Adelaide does indeed consider it a mess. Needs clarification.
"What's this about shoplifting?" Clarissa gritted her teeth. if the suggested additions are made, this line should change to something with more direct confrontation—and the pace accelerates.
Adelaide looked around the room again. "Now I can see this is not the best time, unless this is how you and your home usually look." Adelaide took a tissue from her purse and wiped absently at the smudges on the coffee table. "Do you know that Nancy Taylor is a dreadful housekeeper too, and Tammy Wilson never weeds her flower garden?" Adelaide sighed. She straightened a pile of magazines, then stacked up school supplies. "Don't worry, I'm not judging." this is where the first page would end with the suggested edit and additions. now we're wondering what nasty agenda this Adelaide has, and how Clarissa will deal with it.
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 for your turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.
© 2012 Ray Rhamey
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