Flogging the Quill

Flogometer for Stephanie: would you keep reading?

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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, 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).

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.

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Stephanie's first 16 lines:

Mary expressed her irritation in loud stomps that echoed down the locker-lined hallway. Doors whisked shut as she approached. Mary caught snippets as the doors closed. The teachers were saying the standard things: Welcome back for a new school year; hope everyone had a nice summer; please turn to page whatever. Mary had been in one of those classrooms. Bored out of her mind and doodling pentagrams onto the front of her spiral notebook. She wished she still were.

Mary shoved the door to the guidance counselors' office. It banged the doorjamb and made the attendance secretary Mrs. Higgons jump. Mary didn't glance at the scowling secretary as she marched past to Mr. Landa's office. She didn't need to knock. Mr. Landa opened his door wearing an already weary smile.

"Who gets called to the guidance office on the first day of freaking school?"

Mr. Landa's smile didn't falter as he held the door open for her. "Welcome back, Mary." She rolled her eyes and ducked by him to plop into the chair.

"Mary, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop him from summoning you. I hid his pass pad. Made all of his pens leak. I even banged his knees with the desk drawers. I can't believe he had the office secretary call you over the P.A. system. Whatever happened to student confidentiality?"

Mrs. Brown was a ghost. She haunted Mr. Landa's desk. It had been her desk when she'd…

Despite some charms, craft holds this back

There's a likeable style here, and interesting story questions, but some craft issues, especially clarity, rob this opening of the smooth engagement that I think is needed. Some comments:

Mary expressed her irritation in loud stomps that echoed down the locker-lined hallway. Doors whisked shut as she approached. Mary caught snippets as the doors closed. (Snippets of what? The narrative should say. How about: Mary caught snippets of teachers mouthing standard first-day greetings.) The teachers were saying the standard things: Welcome back for a new school year; hope everyone had a nice summer; please turn to page whatever. Mary had been in one of those classrooms. Bored out of her mind and doodling pentagrams onto the front of her spiral notebook. (The fragment didn't work for me; I felt it should be one sentence, i.e. Mary had been in one of those classrooms, bored out of her mind and doodling pentagrams onto the front of her spiral notebook.)  She wished she still were.

Mary shoved the door to the guidance counselors' office. It banged the doorjamb and made the attendance secretary Mrs. Higgons jump. (Clarity issue here about the action with the door. For this reader, her shoving the door communicates that she shoves it open. Yet it bangs the doorjamb, and a doorjamb is part of the side of the door opening. The only way it could bang the doorjamb is if it were shoved closed. I think this description needs to be recast). Mary didn't glance at the scowling secretary as she marched past to Mr. Landa's office. (How did she know there was a scowl if she didn't look? And I didn't care for "scowling secretary." What if she ignores the secretary's scowl instead?) She didn't need to knock. Mr. Landa opened his door wearing an already weary smile.

"Who gets called to the guidance office on the first day of freaking school?" (While the content of the dialogue reveals who is speaking, it's only at the end. I think a dialogue tag would help clarity here.)

Mr. Landa's smile didn't falter as he held the door open for her. "Welcome back, Mary." She rolled her eyes and ducked by him to plop into thea chair.

"Mary, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop him from summoning you. I hid his pass pad. Made all of his pens leak. I even banged his knees with the desk drawers. I can't believe he had the office secretary call you over the P.A. system. Whatever happened to student confidentiality?" (We don't know who's saying this, and it was totally confusing. As far as the narrative has shown us, there are only two characters, and this isn't one of them.)

Mrs. Brown was a ghost. She haunted Mr. Landa's desk. It had been her desk when she'd…(This flat exposition is clearly the author intruding on the scene to deliver information. Mrs. Brown needs to be introduced before her speech. For example, before Mrs. Brown's dialogue, how about something like: Mrs. Brown's voice emanated from Mr. Landa's desk. Then, after her speech, slip in a little information such as: Mary didn't know why the ghost of a former counselor had befriended her, but she appreciated Mrs. Brown's efforts. Just a thought-starter.)

The following pages revealed an interesting paranormal story developing, but clarity issues and chunks of backstory kept interfering. Still, there's plenty of promise, and I urge Stephanie to keep working at it.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

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Feel free to drop a tip in the jar.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Nancy: would you keep reading?

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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, 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).

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.

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Nancy's first 16 lines:

Rita Fuentes paced around her adoptive mother's kitchen table until she was sure she'd leave a groove in the linoleum. She'd celebrated her birthday two days before, April 2, 1974, surrounded by only two of the people she loved. Her friend Sophie, a genealogist, wasn't furthering her cheer, especially as she'd gone quiet the last couple of minutes.

"Sorry," Sophie said.

Rita stopped near the wall phone. Oh my God, no, she thought, gripping the receiver until she thought it'd break. You have to give me something to be happy about. Tell me you've found me.

"Don't have all my papers. Be right back."

She clenched her teeth when she heard the thump on the other end. "Sure, take your time," Rita said. She'd been searching for her birth mother since the hippies' Summer of Love, so another minute or two wouldn't matter. But it felt like years ticking by instead of minutes.

"Okay, Rita. You ready?"

What was that in her voice? Rita wrapped and unwrapped the phone cord around her fingers. Bad news? Or was Sophie again practicing her version of professional cool? It was time to face this, put an end to this. "All right," she said. She held her breath.

Sophie sighed. "I couldn't find you, Rita," she said. "It's like...you were never born."

One line got me to turn the page, but then…

The last line of this narrative, the part about never being born, got me to turn the page. I wasn't leaning that way until then because I found the narrative a little on the confusing side, and it seemed to be spending a lot of time dealing out information. The rest of the chapter, Nancy, didn't fare so well. It didn't seem to be wanting to get to what the story was about, and the scene with the daughter drained all tension for this reader. Some notes:

Rita Fuentes paced around her adoptive mother's the kitchen table until she was sure she'd leave a groove in the linoleum. She'd celebrated her birthday two days before, April 2, 1974, surrounded by only two of the people she loved. Her friend Sophie, a genealogist, wasn't furthering her cheer, especially as she'd gone quiet the last couple of minutes. (Slipping in bits of exposition, i.e. adoptive mother and genealogist, keeps the point of view very distant. There will be other, smoother opportunities to get this information in. It threw me a little when she was "surrounded" by just two people -- how do you do that? Is it necessary that we need to know her birthday date, and that she'd had a birthday recently? The rest of the chapter didn't seem to need that information. Also, I didn't understand until the third paragraph, when Rita grips the phone, that she was on the phone. I think this is a little bit of "throat clearing" as well as info dump.)

"Sorry," Sophie said.

Rita stopped near the wall phone. Oh my God, no, she thought, gripping the receiver until she thought it'd break. You have to give me something to be happy about. Tell me you've found me. (I liked the "found me" part.)

"Don't have all my papers. Be right back." (Why are we stalling here? This pause didn't increase tension in me, it dulled things down. Besides, if Sophie had been silent for two minutes before, why wasn't she getting the papers then?)

She clenched her teeth when she heard the thump on the other end. "Sure, take your time," Rita said. She'd been searching for her birth mother since the hippies' Summer of Love, so another minute or two wouldn't matter. But it felt like years ticking by instead of minutes. (At Rita's level of anxiety, I don't think she'd be going through this backstory -- the is the author intruding to give us information, and not good for creating a tense scene.)

"Okay, Rita. You ready?" (A couple of things here. I think a dialogue tag would be good as it's not clear who spoke. And we're still stalling. Of course Rita is ready, and Sophie would know that. More throat-clearing. Get to it!)

What was that in her voice? Rita wrapped and unwrapped the phone cord around her fingers. Bad news? Or was Sophie again practicing her version of professional cool? It was time to face this, put an end to this. "All right," she said. She held her breath. (I found this whole paragraph to be another pace killer. I felt that the author was dragging things out. Rather than building tension in me -- keep in mind that this is subjective -- it created impatience and a low-level frustration, not good in the opening pages.)

Sophie sighed. "I couldn't find you, Rita," she said. "It's like...you were never born." (For my money, this should be the opening line of the story. The rest of the information could be folded in later. For example, if this were the opening line, the next could introduce Rita and who Sophie is with something like this: Rita Fuentes clenched the phone. A genealogist had been her last hope for finding her birth mother. By the way, it's never clear why it's so important to her to find her birth mother. I think her extreme anxiety is unmotivated. Can you give us a reason? Something related to what the story is about?)

For me, this story is having a tough time getting started. For me, there's too much internalizing at this point. Even after reading the first chapter, I still didn't know what the story was about, nor what was driving Rita to learn who her birth mother was.

I'm sure you have a good story to tell, Nancy, and your writing is clean, with no annoying grammatical errors, but I think that the way you're withholding what the story is about isn't creating tension in perhaps the way you want. I think you need to get to the part about "as if never lived" (which is a great hook) right away, and help us understand why the need to know her birth mother is so strong. There must be a motivating factor -- this conversation is taking place after she has been married and is the mother of four children. So why the urgency now?

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

---

Feel free to drop a tip in the jar.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Jennifer: would you keep reading?

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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, 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).

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.

---

Jennifer's first 16 lines:

Amanda woke as suddenly as if somebody had shaken her. For a moment, the walls of the small room in which she slept were close around her. The window was open, but it did not help.

Her mind was full of the faintest remnants of a dream. A dream which had fled as soon as she had awakened. It left only an odd mix of fear and regret and sorrow. The feeling that something had happened. Something terribly bad. She closed her eyes; opened them again. What was behind them was only darkness. Yet, it did not have the same quality to it as normal darkness. The inside of her eyelids was ominous.

She must have screamed. Must have from the way in which Margaret rushed into the room. "Amanda...are you...?"

"Nightmare," was all she said. All she felt she needed to say, with a teenager's desire to keep as much as possible locked within her soul. Besides, the dream was not coming back to her. It was only fleeing, further and further away into the night. If it was a nightmare, it was a Thoroughbred.

A bit of relaxation was seen in Margaret's frame. "That's...good." Her voice was uncertain, as if she had envisioned far worse.

Amanda sat up, slowly, carefully. A fifteen year old who moved like an old woman. "No, but (snip)

Nope

This just didn't connect with me. Storywise, it's just a bad dream, not a compellingly dramatic thing to read about. The point of view bothered me a little, too -- moments of close third person, then sudden distance when the author intrudes. And the writing had repetitive and passive elements that were discouraging for this reader. Some notes:

Amanda woke as suddenly as if somebody had shaken her. For a moment, the walls of the small room in which she slept were close around her. The window was open, but it did not help.

Her mind was full of the faintest remnants of a dream. A dream (Unnecessary repetition. And I'd add an intriguing image from the dream.)which had fled as soon as she had awakened. It left only an odd (What was odd about it? This adjective doesn't really mean anything, and so doesn't contribute to experiencing what the character is going through, IMO.) mix of fear and regret and sorrow. The feeling that something terribly bad had happened. Something terribly bad. (More repetition.) She closed her eyes; opened them again. What was bBehind them (Behind her eyes? Or her eyelids?) was only darkness. Yet, it did not have the same quality to it as normal darkness. (Feels repetitive. Contradictory, too -- first it was "only" darkness, then it's abnormal darkness. Which is it? Why not get right to it?) The inside of her eyelids was ominous.

She must have screamed. Must have from the way in which Margaret rushed into the room. "Amanda...are you...?" (Another example of the repetition I found needless, and it slows the pace for me. Also, I don't know why screaming is the natural conclusion. Though it could be if it were "She must have screamed again." Adding the again gives us quick history in a word and motivates her conclusion.)

"Nightmare," was all she said; she needed to keep as much as possible locked within her soul. All she felt she needed to say, with a teenager's desire to keep as much as possible locked within her soul.  Besides, the dream was not coming back to her. It was only fleeing, further and further away into the night. If it was a nightmare, it was a Thoroughbred.(While the "Thoroughbred" line is nice, this doesn't seem to contribute much. She's awake, so naturally the dream is gone.)

A bit of relaxation was seen in Margaret's frame. (Passive and complicated sentence. Why not, simply, "Margaret relaxed.")"That's...good." Her voice was uncertain (What does an "uncertain" voice sound like? I don't know. This is telling, not showing, IMO.), as if she had envisioned far worse.

Amanda sat up, slowly, carefully. A fifteen year old who moved like an old woman. "No, but (snip) (The mention of her age in this way is another point-of-view hop.)

For me, and this is all subjective, the narrative is working so hard to be mysterious and keep away from me what's going on in the story that it's not giving me much of a story. For me, if this started with "A scream woke Amanda." I'd be drawn in immediately. Then I'd not do so much exploration of eyelids, but maybe slip in a fading but grimly mysterious detail from the dream, and then have Margaret rush in.

In other words, I suggest Jennifer get out her pruning shears and trim this down to its essence, and to get deeper into Amanda's point of view rather than slip in and out.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

---

Feel free to drop a tip in the jar.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Bob: would you keep reading?

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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, 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).

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.

---

Bob's first 16 lines:

TO LUKE OEDING'S untrained ear it sounded like a string of firecrackers: sharp reports that echoed across the intersection, bouncing off the adobe and brick canyon walls of downtown San Antonio. The piercing pops startled a few in the crowd gathered for the Battle of Flowers Parade. Luke looked around, more curious than fearful. Fireworks were outlawed, but, assuming some playful teen-ager had decided to liven the occasion by lighting forbidden pyrotechnics, he shrugged his shoulders.

True to his ministerial training, he could not resist offering a smile to reassure a nervous woman, who stood next to him, holding the hand of a child.

"Don't worry. It's just some . . ."

Pop! Pop! Pop  . . . pop  . . . pop  . . . pop-pop-pop . . .

Luke swiveled to see one of the pops rip open the chest of a hefty police officer directing traffic. He pitched backward to lie sprawled, unmoving.

"Nacho!" Another officer bolted into the intersection only to tumble the last few feet, blood gushing from both legs. The policeman found himself using the warm body for cover.

Riding the rising crest of chaos a piercing scream spun Luke back to the nervous woman.

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"Officer down! Officer down!" Bexar County Sheriff's Deputy Nancy Neff heard the frantic words every lawman fears.

Interesting action, but craft issues discouraged me
There's no doubt potentially gripping things are happening here, and I suspect there are FtQ readers who will say they'd turn the page. But these days there are many agents who will put aside a manuscript if the writing isn't virtually 100% publishable.

Here, signs of overwriting and some of my pet peeves about point-of-view stopped me -- I was sure I'd see more in the later pages, and knew (as an editor) that considerable work was ahead before the writing would be what this story needs. I looked ahead, of course, and I was right.

The following pages had plenty of good writing, but there were more signs of the editing needed to make a truly crisp, compelling narrative of a horrific situation -- a teen mass murderer opening up on a parade with a machine gun. It's potentially a gripping situation, but there were too many speed bumps and potholes for me -- remember, this is all very subjective. Some notes:

TO LUKE OEDING'S untrained ear it sounded like a string of firecrackers: sharp reports that echoed across the intersection, bouncing bounced off the adobe and brick canyons walls of downtown San Antonio. The piercing pops startled a few in the crowd gathered for the Battle of Flowers Parade. Luke looked around the Battle of Flowers Parade more curious than fearful. Fireworks were outlawed, but , assuming somea playful teen-ager had must have decided to liven the occasion by lighting forbidden pyrotechnics, he shrugged his shoulders. (Words like "assuming" and descriptions of feeling suggest that we're in a close third point of view. If so, Luke would not be thinking of his ear as "untrained." I thought "more curious than fearful" didn't logically belong because, with the narrative directing me to think of firecrackers, there's no reason for fear to be one of his possible reactions. I didn't feel that the shrug was necessary -- if I had, I would have cut "his shoulders" because that's what people usually shrug, and thus overwriting makes its appearance.)

True to his ministerial training, hHe could not resist offering offered a smile to reassure a nervous woman who stood next to him, holding the hand of a child. (Another pov issue -- would he be thinking about his ministerial training? This is the voice of the author, intruding to give us background info, not the experience of the character. It's not really needed here, what's important is what's happening. And why does he think the woman is nervous? There's no description to tell us that. This is telling. To motivate his smile, how about having her gasp, or have the child cry out? And I'd have the motivation precede the smile.)

"Don't worry. It's just some . . ."

Pop! Pop! Pop  . . . pop  . . . pop  . . . pop-pop-pop . . .the chest of a hefty traffic officer ripped open. He pitched backward and sprawled, unmoving. (as you see from the former narrative below, this can be much tighter. And I had a small problem with a "pop" ripping a chest open. I think you get the picture better here.)

Luke swiveled to see one of the pops rip open the chest of a hefty police officer directing traffic. He pitched backward to lie sprawled, unmoving.

"Nacho!" Another officer bolted into the intersection, only tothen tumbled the last few feet, blood gushing from both his legs. The policeman found himself using the warm body for cover. (Lots of opportunity for tightening here, including the part about using the body for cover. Not necessary, and it felt like a slide into another point of view.)

Riding the rising crest of chaos, a piercing scream spun Luke back to the nervous woman. (comma missing after "chaos")

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"Officer down! Officer down!" Bexar County Sheriff's Deputy Nancy Neff heard the frantic words every lawman fears. (This is not the time to give her full title and county and all that. This is the time to hook the reader with what's happening. Plenty of time later to include details such as this. Also, "heard" is pretty much a wasted verb -- I suggest action, such as clenching her steering wheel, or some other reaction to what she has obviously heard.)

While much of the writing is clean and professional, for me there was too much of it. A good edit would get Bob going, I suspect, and he'll learn to boil out the fat when an intense action scene is being played out. Keep at it, Bob, the story sounds very interesting, and it looked like there were good characters ahead.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

---

Feel free to drop a tip in the jar.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I’ll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES . © 2008 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Carolyn: would you keep reading?

---

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, 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).

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.

---

Carolyn's first 16 lines:

A wave of wooziness tells me my blood pressure is dropping.  Internal bleeding.  It won't be long now.  Focus, I think, heading through the crowded restaurant to confront Shady Ben Foley and warn his young companions about him. One good deed at the end of my otherwise useless life.

Time slows and details take on a dreamlike clarity: snake charmer music and the spicy smells twine through the air, painted horse heads and bejeweled scabbards decorate the walls, silverware clinks on plates. I'd dragged my boyfriend Cubby into this cheesy Mongolian Restaurant in the course of stalking Foley. My last meal, I think with a rush of grief and terror, nearly tripping over an oriental rug as I avoid colliding with a waiter. It had to come sometime. My condition, known as Vein Star Syndrome, is the proverbial ticking time bomb in the head. Once you're past the point of vascular rupture, no medical attention can save you. Cubby waits back at the table, unaware just how grave my situation has become. I didn't tell him. I didn't want him to stop me from doing this one last decent thing.

"Ben Foley," I say, interrupting their conversation. "Remember me? Pembroke Pines?" I grip the back of an empty chair for support.

Shady Ben gives me this blank look and exchanges bewildered glances with his companions, two blonde men and a pretty girl with long dark ringlets. I remember him so

I read on

Good story elements, good writing, and an interesting voice got me to turn the page. There's certainly drama evoked in the first paragraph with her anticipation of dying soon, and then the story immediately adds conflict. Nicely done, Carolyn.

There are a couple of little things that I should note, and a little tightening.

A wave of wooziness tells me my blood pressure is dropping.  Internal bleeding.  It won't be long now.  Focus, I think, heading through the crowded restaurant to confront Shady Ben Foley and warn his young companions about him. One good deed at the end of my otherwise useless life.

Time slows and details take on a dreamlike clarity: snake charmer music and the spicy smells twine through the air, painted horse heads and bejeweled scabbards decorate the walls, silverware clinks on plates. I'd dragged my boyfriend Cubby into this cheesy Mongolian Restaurant in the course of stalking Foley. My last meal, I think with a rush of grief and terror, nearly tripping over an oriental rug as I avoid colliding with a waiter. It had to come sometime. My condition, known as Vein Star Syndrome, is the proverbial ticking time bomb in the head. Once you're past the point of vascular rupture, no medical attention can save you. Cubby waits back at the table, unaware of just how grave my situation is has become.  I didn't tell hadn't told him. I didn't want him to stop me from doing this one last decent thing. (I liked description elements such as "twined through the air.")

"Ben Foley," I say, interrupting their conversation. "Remember me? Pembroke Pines?" I grip the back of an empty chair for support. (Clarity issue here regarding "Pembroke Pines." It's not clear whether this is a person's or a place's name. Could be either. Turns out her name is Justine. I think it should be included here, i.e. "Justine? From Pembroke Pines?")

Shady Ben gives me this blank look and exchanges bewildered glances with his companions, two blondblonde men and a pretty girl with long dark ringlets.  I remember him so… (On "blonde:" Common usage is without the "e,", though it is correct. Some use "blond" for men and "blonde" for women, but I think one consistent spelling is best.)

There were similar small opportunities for polishing in the rest of the chapter, but overall it was an opening chapter that made me want chapter two. Thanks, Carolyn.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

---

Feel free to drop a tip in the jar.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Nancy: would you keep reading?

---

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, 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).

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.

---

Nancy's first 16 lines:

Jill stormed into the room, waving a blue piece of paper that matched the color of her designer pajamas. "I swear, if you don't fire her this time -- I will."

"What?" John Case looked up from the oversized antique wooden desk, clearly unhappy with the interruption.

Jill plopped down in the club chair, and raised the note she still held tight in her right hand. "Annie didn't give me this message. It's from Aunt Milly. I just found it under a stack of her magazines, next to the phone." She flipped the note onto the desk in front of him, and flopped back in the chair, as he glanced at the note. "Who knows how long it's been there," she said.

"Oh that," he said leaning back in his chair tenting his fingers. John twisted the pen in his hand then laid it on the desk. He paused, rubbing his hand across his stubbly chin. He hadn't shaved yet this morning. He wouldn't until after his morning swim. "Annie asked me to pass that message along."

She narrowed her green eyes. "You knew about this?" She wasn't sure she believed him, but she wasn't ready to call him a liar either.

"Calm down, Jill. Yes. I knew about it," he said with a nod. "I guess I forgot. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

Not ready for prime time

While Nancy is doing a couple of things right, in my view -- opening with a scene that contains conflict -- there were craft problems that called a halt to my reading. And, while there is tension created here by the "bridging conflict" kind that agent Donald Maass writes about, expository elements bogged it down. And then there were craft issues. As I've mention, issues on the first page are going to be there on the rest of the pages. Let's get to some.

Jill stormed into the room, waving a blue piece of paper that matched the color of her designer pajamas. "I swear, if you don't fire her this time -- I will." (First bog: there doesn't seem to be any reason to let us know that the paper is blue, unless it's a device to slip in a description of her pajamas. For me, that description (blue, and "designer") is not only not needed, but it takes all the punch out of the opening dialogue. How serious can this conflict be if we're also talking about designer pajamas?)

"What?" John Case looked up from the oversized antique wooden desk, clearly unhappy with the interruption. (More detail that signals overwriting, and some telling versus showing. Since we're in Jill's point of view, I believe we should limit the narrative to what she would naturally be thinking, and she wouldn't be thinking that the desk is oversized, antique, and wooden. No, it would just be "desk." And "clearly unhappy" is actually not clear at all. It's a case of telling versus showing. If we're to experience Jill's perception, something like John case scowled up from his desk. "What?" Note how much crisper the pace would be if these 8 words took the pace of the original 16.)

Jill plopped down in the club chair, and raised the note she still held tight in her right hand. "Annie didn't give me this message. It's from Aunt Milly. I just found it under a stack of her magazines, next to the phone." She flipped the note onto the desk in front of him, and flopped back in the chair, as he glanced at the note. "Who knows how long it's been there," she said. (You'll note the cuts of exposition that doesn't seem necessary. And there's a problem with an antecedent: the way this narrative reads, the note was underneath a stack of Aunt Milly's magazines, even though the writer intends to say Annie's. )

"Oh that," hHe leaned said leaning back in his chair tenting and tented his fingers. John twisted the pen in his hand then laid it on the desk. He paused, rubbing Then he rubbed his hand across his stubbly chin. He hadn't shaved yet this morning. He wouldn't shave until after his morning swim. "Annie asked me to pass that message along." (Once again, too much detail, and more "telling" regarding the pause. You don't need to tell us that he paused if there are action beats in between the two segments of dialogue. In this case, "He leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers. Then he rubbed his stubbly chin…etc." shows us a pause. On the overwriting side, the fact that he hadn't shaved yet that morning and that he would shave after his morning swim are giving us the same information, but the second version much more efficiently -- a redundancy to be eliminated.)

She narrowed her green eyes. "You knew about this?" She wasn't sure she believed him, but she wasn't ready to call him a liar either. (The reference to green eyes is another step out of point of view and into the author's, delivering information.)

"Calm down, Jill. Yes. I knew about it," he said with a nod. "I guess I forgot. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" (I don't think the "said with" construction is good technique -- see my  rant about it in the archives. Better, IMO: "Calm down, Jill. Yes, I knew about it." He nodded. Note that by using an action beat that no dialogue tag is necessary. By the way, I think a shrug would be better than a nod -- it would show more attitude.)

Bottom line. Nancy can definitely write and clearly has good characters in mind, but needs to work on both writing and storytelling craft to unearth a good story. Keep at it, and thanks for sending your work.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

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If you've learning something by being "flogged," reading the floggings, or from other articles in FtQ,, feel free to drop a tip in the jar.

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Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Don’t be generous

For a recently flogged novel opening, commenter ing said, "I would probably have read on," even though overall the writing craft and storytelling were not yet professional. He said that because a character resonated with him. It's okay to be generous for a page or two, right?

Wrong.

When you evaluate the opening of a novel in a Flogometer session, don't be generous. Be demanding. Don't give a second, make the reader force it from you. The same goes when you're looking at your own work.

Be generous (meaning kindly) when you offer a critique, but not when it comes to turning the page. I talk about "compelling," and I mean it. Here's a definition:

com-pel
verb
a: to force; b: to urge irresistibly

What's wrong with being generous? What's wrong with allowing a reader to peel a story like the petticoats on a 1950s teeny-bopper, revealing character and plot layer by layer, in all their fullness and richness? I mean, there are plenty of famous novels and current bestsellers by top authors that take their time for the story to surface, right?

Well, famous works and established authors face a different reality than unpublished writers. Reputation or a history with readers can buy their stories the time to ease into things.

But if you're unpublished and trying to land a literary agent, your reality is the hundreds of submissions an agent receives and the chore it becomes to crawl through them, looking for reasons to reject while at the same time hoping for a story worth reading. They're looking for professional-level storytelling.

Let's say you do land an agent, and the agent sends your novel to an acquisitions editor. The same grim reality opens its maws -- an audience of one who has sharp, particular tastes, who has an agenda that your story may or may not fit, who wants a great story but has a pile of submissions to go through, and quickly finding a reason to pass is a good thing.

Your first page is all your pages

The odds are excellent that an editor or agent will see all the reasons they need to pass -- or to keep reading -- right there on your first manuscript page. Just like agents and editors who see rivers of submissions, I can tell you from seeing scores of opening pages for novels that the first page typically foreshadows what's to come, storywise and writingwise. One quick skim over that page usually provides all the reason I need to decide whether to turn the page or set the manuscript aside. I can't think of an instance when the pages that followed redeemed inadequate writing on the first page.

Generosity is a disservice to the writer

What agents and editors and I are looking for is narrative that will be compelling to as many readers as possible. That's why a personal resonance like ing's isn't enough. We need to see writing that is professional. A strong, confidant voice. A hook that engages us and pulls us forward. If I, or you, vote to turn the page because some element "interests" us -- versus compels us -- then we're doing the writer more harm than good.

Denial is a natural response

I use Google Alerts to track when people post something about Flogging the Quill, and more than once I've come across a post on the blog of a writer who has been flogged who has said that, really, his/her opening didn't have to be all that compelling because…(fill in your own excuse here). Sometimes they justify that conclusion with a generous comment by an FtQ reader. Maybe their writing doesn't have to be compelling to succeed with one critical reader somewhere -- but why take the chance?

If the opening page, and the second page, and the third page, and every page of your novel isn't truly compelling, then you are at risk of losing your reader. If you're trying to break into publishing, that reader is an agent or an editor. You don't want to lose that reader on any page.

You only have seconds

Even when you're published, the prospect of rejection still hovers over your story. As publisher/editor Sol Stein reports Stein on Writing of his observations in a bookstore:

"In the fiction section, the most common pattern was for the browser to read the front flap of the book's jacket and then go to page one. No browser went beyond page three before either taking the book to the cashier or putting it down and picking up another to sample."

What did those readers see in the novels they chose to purchase, and what did they fail to see in the ones they rejected?

You know. Ask yourself what readers buy novels for. Is it

• Lush descriptions?
• Great dialogue?
• Fascinating characters?
• Deep themes?
  

Nope. Just one thing.

• Story.
  

Those bookstore browsers either saw signs of a story they wanted to read, or they did not. They felt compelled to keep reading, or not. That quickly. You do it too, don't you?

A few seconds. A page or three. That's how long you have to snare a reader's interest. It's not like when you ask a family member, or a friend, or even a critique group member to read your new novel -- they sorta have to. No, in the real world, you have a page or two. And if it's that difficult with a bookstore browser who is on the hunt for a story to read, how tough do you think it is with a jaded, weary agent or a jaded, way-to-swamped acquisitions editor?

So when you examine the work of another writer, and especially when you examine your own work, DON'T BE GENEROUS. Be inordinately, aggressively, stubbornly resistant to a narrative that just doesn't have what it takes to force you to turn the page.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Carla: would you keep reading?

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HAPPY NEW YEAR

I've been a little lazy about flogging during the holiday because I took a week off from the day job to work on a book of the "best of" Flogging the Quill, but now we return to a regular schedule of critiquing. Hope you have a great writing year.

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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, 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).

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.

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Carla's first 16 lines:

Prologue

"They found it." Little Jackson looked up at his nanny, his eyes still glassy but returning to normal.

"They have?" Mrs. Nicestrum spoke sweetly peering over her reading glasses and looking up from her book. She sat aside his bed a bible in her lap. She had been keeping vigil by her charge's side ever since he lapsed into another of his mysterious catatonic states.

The five-year-old boy merely nodded yes causing a damp blond curl to fall across his forehead. She stroked the lock from his eyes. "Well now, it won't be too much longer then will it?"

Jackson pushed himself up and into her arms almost knocking the elderly woman off the bed. She sat there comforting the boy wondering just how much he sees in these mystifying trances.

Chapter One

Clarice gripped the armrest of the Blazer a little tighter as the car jolted over another rock. She looked at her husband. His six-foot frame stayed put, while her tiny body jostled up and down like a kid on a rickety roller-coaster. It felt silly, really. She laughed. She needed to laugh. John watched his wife's bottom actually leave the seat, and he laughed with her.

Clarice and John had come to the mountain in Ithaca looking for land.

Didn't reach the level of compelling for me

While the prologue part raised a story question or two -- what did they find, who were they, and what's with the trances -- they were cut off by the brevity of the prologue, and there were some craft shortcomings. Some notes:

Prologue

"They found it." Little Jackson looked up at his nanny, his eyes still glassy but returning to normal.

"They have?" Mrs. Nicestrum spoke sweetly, peering over her reading glasses and looking up from her book. She sat aside his bed, a bible in her lap. She had been keeping vigil by her charge's side ever since he lapsed into another of his mysterious catatonic states. (Several things here. If you want the reader to "hear" the way a character delivers a speech, the clues have to come before the dialogue. Here, we don't learn that she spoke sweetly until after she'd shut her mouth. This transforms showing into telling.

Then there was the comma shortage in that first sentence -- my ear tells me that one is called for after "sweetly." Also, the action described -- peering over glasses and looking up -- come at the wrong end of the sentence, in my view. More than that, there's a point-of-view uncertainty here. Whose are we in? It isn't Jackson, for we see that his eyes are glassy, which means that we're "outside" of him. But then she speaks "sweetly," which means we're outside of her. Okay, this could be omniscient, but the later narrative suggests that we're in hers. And there's a comma missing after "aside his bed." As for the order of the action in the sentence, I'd suggest turning it all around. For example, how about: Mrs. Nicestrum looked up from her book and peered over her reading glasses. "They did?" Yes, I left the "sweetly" off because of point of view.)

The five-year-old boy merely nodded, yes causing a damp blond curl to fall across his forehead. She stroked the lock from his eyes. "Well now, it won't be too much longer then, will it?" (More missing commas, to my way of reading (indicated in red, after "nodded" and "then." I excised "merely" because the adverb didn't really add anything, and struck the "yes" because that's what a nod signifies. I cut "boy" because his name, Jackson, has already let us know that. So we're seeing signs of overwriting early on.)

Jackson pushed himself up and into her arms, almost knocking the elderly woman off the bed. She sat there, comforting the boy wondering just how much he sees in these mystifying trances. (More problems, including clarity. In the first paragraph, we're told that the woman sat "aside" the bed, which means alongside, not on, but here the boy almost knocks her off the bed. When did she move there? The reference to "the elderly woman" takes us back outside her point of view, and then we're back in with "wondering" -- the inconsistent pov takes me out of the narrative.

More missing commas -- it's true that commas can be tricky, but I feel voids here because the rhythm of the sentences seem wrong without them. I felt that the present tense verb "sees" should have been past tense for agreement's sake. Also, after telling me in the second paragraph that he had "mysterious catatonic trances," I don't need to be told that they're "mystifying" -- we get it.)

Chapter One

Clarice gripped the armrest of the Blazer a little tighter as the car jolted over another rock. She looked at her husband. His six-foot frame stayed put, while her tiny body jostled up and down like a kid on a rickety roller-coaster. It felt silly, really. She laughed. She needed to laugh. John watched his wife's bottom actually leave the seat, and he laughed with her. (I prefer "when" verus "as" here -- "as" is simultaneous, and "when" suggests more cause and effect to me. In reality, the jolt would come first, and then the gripping. I liked the way the relative sizes of the characters were described, though. I liked the "needed to laugh" as a hint of something troubling here (but didn't learn soon enough what it was. The "John watched" was a little awkward for me because it suggests a shift to his point of view. To make it her pov for certain, you'd need to do something more like this: John glanced at her when she left the seat, and he laughed with her.).

Clarice and John had come to the mountain in Ithaca looking for land. (We're slipping into exposition/backstory here, into what has happened, not what is happening. We readers want to know what is happening and what happens next. This kind of thing could be turned around with internal monologue, i.e. Would they find the land they needed on this mountain? This backs off of what little tension we have, for this reader, so I put it down.)

It might be, Carla, that reading aloud will tell your ear where commas may be needed to create pauses in run-on sentences. It sounds like there's an interesting story to be told, but I wonder why the mini-prologue that starts to get us going with mystifying catatonic trances and then leaves us hanging -- why not stay with the boy and get us involved with him? Bottom line, I felt more tension was needed here -- there's no real sense of jeopardy, no threat on the horizon, and no conflict -- and one of those is needed to reach the level of compelling.

Thanks for sending your work, and keep at it -- there's promise here.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey