Last weekend I conducted my Flash Editing workshop at the Write on
the Sound writer's conference in Edmonds, Washington, in the Seattle
area. I received the same response as before
I started the session with a list on a blackboard of the elements that I believe need to be present on your opening page. Well, really, all of your pages, but if they're not on the opening page you're just asking for a pass from a busy agent or harried publisher.
Story elements:
- Tension.
- Story Questions.
- Voice.
- Clarity.
- Scene setting.
- Characterization.
There are more elements to a story, of course, but these are critical. I see the first three as the primary elements for engaging a reader. They're the ones that can create the hook you can use to reel in a weary agent. The last three are tools you can use to make the first three happen in a professional, effective way.
Tension.
You hear this all the time. Agent Donald Maass advocates "tension on every page." But what does that mean? It means something in your narrative that creates a need in your reader, a small unease, an appetite to know more. It means tension caused by what happens in the story that subsequently causes it in the reader. Tension is a real feeling that you, the reader, should experience on the first page of a novel. It is created by what happens in the narrative, and the lure of what will happen next.
As someone pointed out in the workshop, you don't have to have the main conflict in the first page or three of your novel. True. While it might be a stronger hook to begin with:
In ten seconds, the dirty bomb would contaminate Manhattan with enough radiation to make it a desert for fifty centuries.
…the tension element, as long as it comes from story questions that are meaningful to the reader, can be relatively mild compared to the overall conflict or jeopardy in the story. For example, the opening sentence from a novel I'm reading, Fly by Night, by Frances Hardinge:
"But names are important!" the nursemaid protested.
There is implied conflict in that sentence, and story questions come tumbling out of it, certainly enough to carry you on to the next paragraph, and thus giving the writer a chance to sink in her claws.
By the way, conflict isn't the only way to create tension, although it's hard to beat as a real hook-setter. Jeopardy, or a hint of trouble ahead, can create enough tension to move the reader just enough further for more of the story to take hold.
For an example of jeopardy as a way to kick off a story, here's the opening sentence from my blook, Death Sucks: On being a vampire kitty-cat:
Just after dark, death grabbed me by the ass.
Story questions
Perhaps my list should have started with story questions, for without them there would be no tension. You create story questions with information that creates instant unknowns in a reader's knowledge of what's happening. For example:
The spider crept onto Judy's bare neck.
Your knowledge of spiders raises instant questions: Will it bite Judy? Is it poisonous? Is it deadly? What will happen if she's bitten? Will she feel the spider and avoid the bite? What's going to happen next?!
Let's add a little more information and see what happens to the story questions.
The black widow spider crept onto Judy's bare neck.
Uh-oh. Now you know it's poisonous, and its bite has more serious consequences.
The black widow spider crept onto Judy's bare neck. She stirred in her sleep.
She's asleep? Yeeks! New story question: will she wake up in time to deal with the spider? Once more:
The black widow spider crept onto Judy's bare neck. She stirred in her sleep. The second black widow crawled onto her naked skin.
New story questions (and tension) rise: how many black widows are there? Where is she that there are so many? What will happen next?! And we did this with only 3 sentences. Take a look at the opening of your story and see if you can find a way to start with tension-building elements.
Voice.
The meaning of "voice" is hard to pin down. Writers frequently ask what it is, and there are many answers. I've read a number of agents profess that voice is one of the things they respond to most in a submission. I'll give you my take, and add that voice is the one thing that can suck you into a story even without initial tension and story questions (though they cannot be avoided for long).
Writing in the first person is likely the easiest way to create a distinct voice because you're adding in the idiosyncrasies and personality nuances of a character. If, of course, the first-person is truly a character and not just a stand-in for the writer. Even then, writers often have lively voices of their own that can captivate.
Perhaps it's easier to think about what voice does rather than what it is. Here are some characteristics of a voice that will lead a reader on:
Freshness. It "sounds" fresh in the reader's mind. The language is not mundane but flavored. The ideas evoked are out of the ordinary. The way things are put are uncommon.
Confidence. A strong voice immediately says to a reader, "You can trust me. I know a terrific story, and you can relax and enjoy because I know how to tell it so well that it becomes an experience in your mind."
Clarity. A clear voice that slips scenes and sights and sounds easily into your mind, with no struggle to comprehend or follow, is one that can sweep you swiftly into the current of a story.
Those are just some of the aspects of voice, I'm sure more will occur to me after I post this. If you have any notions to contribute to a discussion of voice, please drop me an email.
Next post: I'll take up the other tools mentioned above: Clarity. Scene setting. Characterization.
For what it's worth,
Ray
Free edit. Email a sample for an edit that I can post here.
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© 2006 Ray Rhamey