Flogometer for Phil: would you keep reading?

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Day off this coming Friday. However, stop in, I’ve a question for you then. And I hope you’ll do me the favor of visiting my new website that includes info on the new book, editing services, and workshops that I offer. Some quite positive comments are coming in, including one from NYT bestselling author Tess Gerritsen. Go to www.ftqpress.com. I'd appreciate any feedback

-- there's a contact page. And let me know if you’d like to be notified when the book is available, probably January. Happy Holidays! 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 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. Phil’s first 16 lines: The mouth-watering aroma of baking banana bread curled appealingly up the grand staircase, mingling with the steam of her hot shower. Finished bathing, she stepped out of the stall and into a thirsty Turkish towel. A pleasurable smile curled the corners of her full lips as the delectable scent reached her olfactory senses. She suddenly realized she was starving. She twisted the towel around her blonde tresses and paused a few seconds before the floor length mirror assessing her feminine qualities. Her beauty eluded the woman as her critical gaze swept up the 5’2” frame to her “almost” pretty face, dominated by unbelievably large emerald eyes. Honesty, empathy, and intelligence exuded from those windows of her soul; but like an anorexic, which can never be thin enough, Rebecca Rainbow could not see her feminine elegance. Moreover, her gynecologist husband, Ted, reinforced her poor self-image by harsh criticism, constantly comparing her to his patients. He often told her, “It’s a good thing you can’t get pregnant! You’re so short; you’d look like a bowling ball.” She slipped into a clinging silk dressing gown, intent on a hot slice of banana bread. As she descended the curved staircase, the oven timer sounded, reinvigorating her Pavlovian hunger pangs. However, the tone puzzled her, coming as though in surround sound. The second beep seemed to be coming from behind her in her bedroom. Her bewilderment yielded (snip) Not for this reader There's little tension here, plus craft issues. To me, strong fiction involves me by delivering the experience of a character through how the character experiences what’s happening. I cover this a lot in my upcoming book, Jump-start Your Novel with Kitty-cats in Action, which is about far more than starting a novel. But here we’re given lush (overly, for me) descriptions of the character from way outside her point of view. I don’t think a woman would think of herself in such a way. More importantly, is it important that we know about her blonde tresses and unbelievably large emerald eyes? Does her appearance figure in the story? If not, sketch it in through natural observances. If anything, her husband’s line (without being told that she’s 5’ 2”) shows us more than all the description. While Phil has give careful thought and much work to word choice, for me it’s overburdened with adjectives, adverbs, and wordy circumlocutions. For example, which better gives you the experience of the character? This: A pleasurable smile curled the corners of her full lips as the delectable scent reached her olfactory senses. Or this: She smiled at the warm, nutty aroma of fresh banana bread. Some notes on logic and other craft problems: The mouth-watering aroma of baking banana bread curled appealingly up the grand staircase, mingling with the steam of her hot shower. Finished bathing, she stepped out of the stall and into a thirsty Turkish towel. A pleasurable smile curled the corners of her full lips as the delectable scent reached her olfactory senses. She suddenly realized she was starving. She twisted the towel around her blonde tresses and paused a few seconds before the floor length mirror assessing her feminine qualities. Her beauty eluded the woman as her critical gaze swept up the 5’2” frame to her “almost” pretty face, dominated by unbelievably large emerald eyes. Honesty, empathy, and intelligence exuded from those windows of her soul; but like an anorexic, which can never be thin enough, Rebecca Rainbow could not see her feminine elegance. Moreover, her gynecologist husband, Ted, reinforced her poor self-image by harsh criticism, constantly comparing her to his patients. He often told her, “It’s a good thing you can’t get pregnant! You’re so short; you’d look like a bowling ball.” (1. (logic) I don’t see how the aroma of baking banana bread downstairs could possibly reach her inside the stall of a hot shower upstairs. Hot air and moisture flow out of such a shower, and would push any aromas away. 2. (logic) Turkish towels are large, plush towels, in my understanding entirely too large to twist around one’s blonde tresses. 3. What is a “pleasurable” smile? Pleasurable to whom? Wouldn’t it be to an observer, who is not there? 4. So how large is “unbelievably?” Are we to believe whatever size they are?) She slipped into a clinging silk dressing gown, intent on a hot slice of banana bread. As she descended the curved staircase, the oven timer sounded, reinvigorating her Pavlovian hunger pangs. However, the tone puzzled her, coming as though in surround sound. The second beep seemed to be coming from behind her in her bedroom. Her bewilderment yielded (snip) (For me, there’s overwriting and telling throughout. For example, “Her bewilderment yielded. . .” Why not, simply, “She understood when. . .”) My advice to Phil is to strip out the adverbs and most of the adjectives, then get inside Rebecca’s head and give us what she’s experiencing, which would not be “her full lips” of her “Pavlovian hunger pangs,” in my view.) I'm not mocking your writing, Phil, but only trying to show how someone could see it as over the top. I think that if you tone it down and use the vocabulary and way of speaking of your character to show her experiences, you'll clear the way for your story to come through and hook me. A shower and banana bread isn't a tension-filled hook. I understand that you're setting up what current life is like, but where's the inciting incident? Isn't it on page 7, where Rebecca learns that her husband has been killed in an accident, another woman with him? For me, there's too much throat-clearing here. Let us learn about her character through how she reacts to challenges, not banana bread. 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, send 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter 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. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post. 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. ARCHIVES © 2008 Ray Rhamey