Flogometer for Bill: would you keep reading?

---

Validation from an agent

The FtQ "Flogometer" challenge reflects the real world. I came across this quote from an established literary agent with 20 years experience, Lori Perkins, on her in the Middle blog.

"…your novel has to grab me by the first page, which is why we can reject you on one page."

---

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.

---

Bill's first 16 lines, the prologue to a literary fantasy:

Winter stillness settled on the land as daylight ran from the sky. The shadow of a man slipped through forest and across field. A hood and long woolen robe protected him from the growing cold. His white beard flashed against the rough black cloth, and the feathered ends of his arrows glistened in the dark leather of the pouch slung across his back.

He took long steady strides. His head was bowed as if in prayer, but he was studying the ground for traces. He read it like a map, taking directions from what the animals left behind: paw prints, broken twigs, and smells hanging in the air as clear as signposts.

Sometimes he stopped. His head snapped to the side, and he just listened for sounds hidden behind the sighing of the wind. Then he would run, easily on the wind like the deer he was tracking. Although his hair was white, he moved like a young hunter. Three days of steady tracking hadn't tired him.

Even in the strange moon shadows, the traces were clear. They seemed to rush at him now, pulling him faster and faster towards his prey. He stepped through a broken wall of trees into the darkness of a small wood.

His steps turned to velvet, and he glided across the carpet of leaves. He was careful not to wake the birds whose flight would have startled the herd and sent it rushing away. A master hunter, he. . .

Works for me

Nice writing and a feeling of suspense were enough to lure me on. But there were some stylistic notes I can offer; I think the writing could be a little tighter here andthere.

Winter stillness settled on the land as daylight ran from the sky. The shadow of a man slipped through forest and across field. A hood and long woolen robe protected him from the growing cold. His white beard flashed against the rough black cloth, and the feathered ends of his arrows glistened in the dark leather of the pouch slung across his back. (I wonder about "daylight ran." "Ran" seems fast, but when does daylight leave/night fall quickly?Seems like "bled" or some other, slower verb would be more credible. Is his hood separate from his robe? Sounds odd. Would a "hooded robe" be more accurate and create a more clear picture? Is there a reason for using "pouch" instead of "quiver" for the arrow container?)

He took long steady strides. His head was bowed as if in prayer, but he was studying the ground for traces. He read it like a map, taking directions from what the animals left behind: paw prints, broken twigs, and smells hanging in the air as clear as signposts. ("read it like a map" felt clichéd to me. I think this could be tighter and more effective this way: He took direction from paw prints, broken twigs, and smells that hung in the air as clear as signposts.)

Sometimes he stopped. His head snapped to the side, and he just listened for sounds hidden behind the sighing of the wind. Then he ran would run, easily on the wind like the deer he tracked was tracking. Although his hair was white, he moved like a young hunter. Three days of steady tracking hadn't tired him. (What does "ran on the wind" mean? Would "with the wind" make more sense here? I urge Bill to watch out for passive "was …ing" that uses "was" and a participle instead of a more active past-tense verb.)

Even in the strange moon shadows, the traces were clear. They seemed to rush at him now, pulling him faster and faster towards his prey. He stepped through a broken wall of trees into the darkness of a small wood. (Adjectives such as "strange" yield no information or picture at all. What makes it "strange?" Bill used "strange" again shortly after this, and it also failed to contribute. It's an example of "conclusion" words (like "beautiful," "eerie," etc.) that sum up missing description to no effect.)

His steps turned to velvet, and he glided across the a carpet of leaves. He was careful not to wake the birds whose flight would have startled the herd and sent it rushing away. A master hunter, he. . . ("was careful" is summary -- can you use description instead? Or would it work to combine the earlier thought with this? Thoughtstarter: His steps turned to velvet, and he glided across the carpet of leaves to avoid waking birds whose flight…etc.)

Nice writing, Bill, though there were continuing examples of passive wording that you should take a look at. Search for "was" or for "ing" and see if a verb change will make the narrative crisper and more active.

Thanks for sending your work, and good luck.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

---

Donations go to the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

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.
4. If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
5. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey