Flogging the Quill

Flogometer for Jacob. Would you turn the page?

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But first, have a laugh today. Check out my book on Authonomy —if you like it, register and back it.

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Update on my book It’s FINALLY going to happen. After struggles in getting the right printer, it’s due to be printed May 1 and available soon after. I’ve signed up with a distributor, and eventually it will be orderable at bookstores. Pre-orders are now possible on Amazon.com
, and you can bet there will be a big announcement here when it’s all good to go. I just received an endorsement from agent Donald Maass that I’ll share then.

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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, 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). Directions for submissions are below.

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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Jacob’s first 16 lines:

The sun was rising over the edge of the plains, casting a grey light through the heavy fog that still hung like heavy velvet over the encampment. The morning air was crisp and cool. The men were just starting to stir, sluggishly dressing for another day of moving at the hellish pace their commanding officer was forcing. For nine days, she had been forcing a march, very much resembling running, without apparent reason. No galloping couriers had approached them, or any half dead messengers bringing a call to arms.

The Lieutenant Colonel, Noxilia, steps out of her tent, already fully dressed and garbed in the light Armor that she was famous for. Reaching up she brushes an errant strand of her shoulder length, burgundy hair out of her face, and calls out to the men “Stop dragging your damn asses’ boys, we’re already miles behind schedule! Eat your breakfast on the move!”

Noxilia mounts up on her Blood Tiger, Malice, and starts moving through the camp. Passing a motionless soldier, she snaps out hard with her riding crop at prompting him to start breaking down his tent. As she reaches the edge of the camp, she looks out over the horizon thinking “Maybe we can get there in time. Maybe I’m not too late to see him.”

The sun begins its ascent over the horizon, slowly starting to dissipate the fog, revealing the endless grasslands they had been trekking through for more than a week. Bleak and harsh it (snip)

I passed on this one
While this opening does raise a story question (why the forced march to see “him?”) and introduces an interesting world where an officer rides a tiger, craft issues signal problems to come and writing that needs work to reach the professional level. The tense shift from past to present after the first paragraph occurs again in the later narrative, going back and forth now and then. Some brief notes:

The sun was rising rises over the edge of the plains, casting a grey light through the heavy fog that stillhung hangs like heavy velvet over the encampment. The morning air wa is crisp and cool. The men were just starting to stir, sluggishly dressing for another day of moving at the hellish pace their commanding officer was forcing forced. For nine days, she had been forcing a march, very much resembling running, without apparent reason. No galloping couriers had approached them, or any half-dead messengers bringing a call to arms. (The repetition of forced/forcing needs to be fixed. I liked the description of the fog.)

The Lieutenant Colonel Noxilia steps out of her tent, already fully dressed and garbed in the light Aarmor that she wa is famous for. Reaching up sShe brushes an errant strand of her shoulder-length, burgundy hair out of her face, and calls out to the men “Stop dragging your damn asses’, boys, we’re already miles behind schedule! Eat your breakfast on the move!” (We’re in Noxilla’s point of view, and she wouldn’t be thinking of the fame of her armor or the length and color of her hair. I know it’s tough to describe a point of view character, and I deal with it in my book, but this isn’t the way to do it.)

Noxilia mounts up on her Blood Tiger, Malice, and starts movingmoves through the camp. Passing a motionless soldier, she snaps out hard with her riding crop at prompting him to start him breaking down his tent. As she reaches the edge of the camp, she looks out over the horizon. thinking “Maybe wethey can get there in time. Maybe I’m she's not too late to see him. (The part about the writing crop was pretty clunky, and needs more time than I can give it to straighten out. I changed the “thought quote” to interior monologue to smooth that out.)

The sun begins its ascent over the horizon, slowly starting to dissipate the fog, revealing the endless grasslands they had been trekking through for more than a week. Bleak and harsh it (snip)

I encourage Jacob to keep at it—he’s got an interesting character and world to explore. But he needs to get more into the moment of Noxilla’s experience, watch his tense and grammar (BTW, it’s “I’ll,” not “ill”), and weave exposition in through her point of view, not from outside.

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Richard. Would you turn the page?

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But first, have a laugh today. Check out my book on Authonomy —if you like it, register and back it.

---

Update on my book It’s FINALLY going to happen. After struggles in getting the right printer, it’s due to be printed May 1 and available soon after. I’ve signed up with a distributor, and eventually it will be orderable at bookstores. Pre-orders are now possible on Amazon.com
, and you can bet there will be a big announcement here when it’s all good to go. I just received an endorsement from agent Donald Maass that I’ll share then.

---

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). Directions for submissions are below.

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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Richard has reworked his opening and returned for a second critique. His first 16 lines:

William sat reading a report in his office, the setting sun leaving him in shadow. Turning on the light he threw up his hands at a blinding flash, cowering as shards of glass fell upon him. Brushing the glass from his hair William paused: across the room a blue light was seeping through the edges of the closed door, flowing along the carpet. William faltered as it approached, and then felt it slither over his skin, its touch like ice. He moved toward the door, and reached for the handle, but then stopped, the light gone in the blink of an eye, the darkness somehow more threatening. He opened the door.

A man, maybe eight foot, towered above him, his barrel chest and muscular arms bursting at the seams of a rain coat. His eyes were hidden by a hood, his mouth mangled by two scars forming the shape of a cross. Wet mud covered his boots, but it hadn’t rained today.

‘I’m here to see Mr Prince.’ His voice had the rasp of a heavy smoker.

‘Do you have an appointment?’

‘No.’

William began closing the door. ‘Sorry, Mr Prince doesn’t see anyone unless they have an appointment.’

The man wedged his foot, his gnarled mouth twisted into a grin, and then shoved open the door.

This time it got me.
Although I have some nits to pick at, this is a much improved opening in terms of tension and story questions. The mysterious blue light, in particular, was an excellent addition. The prose still needs thought and work, but some story elements did their job very well. Notes:

William sat reading a report in his office, the setting sun leaving him in shadow. Turning on the light he threw up his hands at a blinding flash, cowering as when shards of glass fell upon him. Brushing the glass from his hair William paused: across the room a blue light was seeping through the edges of the closed door, flowing along the carpet. William faltered as it approached, and then felt it slithered over his skin, its touch like ice. He moved toward the door and reached for the handle, but then stopped, the light gone in the blink of an eye, the darkness somehow more threatening. He opened the door. (Unless the lightbulb exploding and the blinding flash are necessary parts of the coming story (and they don’t seem to be), I’d cut it. Let him realized that he is in shadow, go to the light switch, and then have the light seep under the door. This will grant you more sentences to hook the reader with. On brushing the glass from his hair—I imagined him using his bare hand, and is that realistic? I’d be carefully picking any glass bits from my hair. “blink of an eye” is a clichéd phrase, look for a simple way to do this. [He blinked, and it was gone.] Too many “ing” participles in the narrative for my taste, too.)

A man, maybe eight foot, towered above him, his barrel chest and muscular arms bursting at the seams of a rain coat. His eyes were hidden by a hood, his mouth mangled by two scars forming the shape of a cross. Wet mud covered his boots, but it hadn’t rained today. (Perhaps “eight foot” works for British audiences, but “eight feet tall” would be more clear. Very creepy-looking guy. I don’t think you need the “wet” for the mud—readers will imagine the moist kind unless you say “dried mud,” and the reference to having not rained completes the picture of wet mud. “Bursting at the seams” is a bit of cliché. Showing would be better, i.e. his barrel chest and arms so thick that seams gapped open on the sleeves and chest. . . BTW, he can’t really see that the arms are muscular—they might just be fat. Be careful to use only what your character can reasonably see and know. In this case, the arms are covered with fabric, and he can only note the size, not their makeup.)

‘I’m here to see Mr Prince.’ His voice had the rasp of a heavy smoker.

‘Do you have an appointment?’

‘No.’

William began closing the door. ‘Sorry, Mr Prince doesn’t see anyone unless they have an appointment.’

The man wedged his foot, his gnarled mouth twisted into a grin, and then shoved open the door.

If the lightbulb sequence were gone, we could have also seen that William is thrown across the room by the strength of the shove, and maybe more. This is a case where too much detail robbed the writer of an opportunity to hook us even more.

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Terry. Would you turn the page?

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Update on my book It’s FINALLY going to happen. After struggles in getting the right printer, it’s due to be printed May 1 and available soon after. I’ve signed up with a distributor, and eventually it will be orderable at bookstores. Pre-orders are now possible on Amazon.com, and you can bet there will be a big announcement here when it’s all good to go. I just received an endorsement from agent Donald Maass that I’ll share then.

---

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). Directions for submissions are below.

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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Terry’s first 16 lines:

A glorious warm summer day called to Whitey and PJ to take a hike along the river further than they had ever gone before. Perfect weather buoyed their sense of freedom higher than it had been in years.

The nadir for PJ was the summer three years prior when he was ten. That summer the nexus of two events occurred casting an anxiety pallor over everyone in the area that they would never see again.

The first component, a fear that so many were feeling was the nearly daily revelations from Joe McCarthy that Communists were secretly infiltrating the whole country and soon would be taking away the freedoms saved by the world war that ended ten years before.

Secondly and most stressful to young people was a polio quarantine in many cities keeping kids in their yards for the whole summer until complete inoculation with the Salk vaccine was completed.

Today images of iron lungs and concentration camps were nowhere near his conscious thoughts. They were securely walled up in the deeper dungeons of his memory. Another prisoner down there was about to escape and cause the surrender and death of his adolescence, a telltale heart.

I passed on this one
Even though the writing is clean, there were three primary reasons I didn’t turn the page: distance, exposition, and lack of tension. The very last line does promise a story, but the preceding 15 promise a lot of “telling.” As I’ve learned after reviewing hundreds of novel openings, the first page generally makes promises that the rest of the manuscript keeps, even the not-so-good ones.

The first paragraph seems like it will lead us into an adventure, and that’s good. But then the second goes into high orbit above the boys to become a very adult voice telling us things that don’t seem related at all to the opening. The exposition that follows sets the historical scene. . .and drags the story to an utter halt.

The following pages were much the same—a great deal of exposition and “telling” and nary a scene in sight. I’m certain Terry has a story to tell, and the times it lives in are very interesting. But Terry needs to get inside the head of this boy and show us what’s happening to him. Find ways to weave in the historical components through what the boy sees, hears, does, and thinks. But, mostly, help us to live his story, not read a report of historical aspects of back then. You’ve got this information down, now set it aside and just “be” the boy’s story.

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Jovan. Would you turn the page?

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But first, have a laugh today. Update on my Authonomy experience: a fan of my story contacted a publisher's editor and convinced her that she really should read it. The manuscript is now on an editor's desk. Internet=small world. Check out my book on Authonomy —if you like it, register and back it.

---

But second, sign up for the “Friends of FtQ NewsNotes” Email me with a "Yes" and your first and last name.

---

My book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, should be ready for shipping May 1. You can sign up to be notified of availability at Amazon.com.

---

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). Directions for submissions are below.

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.

---

A quick look at a redo One of last week’s floggees, Kieron, put a revision in the comments. It was a definite improvement, but I still saw things to suggest. The first two paragraphs of his new opening:

Scuba International’s roving journalist Michael O'Sheen shoved his way past beggars and traders at Male’s flea-market. His boss's warning still rang in his ears: Get a decent story, or you're out.

Ready to pounce on anything that’d make said story, he scanned the stalls. Was about to say Feck It when he noticed a table set back from the others. He sidled up. Rummaged through a wooden bowl and spotted a set of padlocks tangled in wire. He caressed them, peered closely. His heart skipped a beat. The trader grinned, his gold fillings glinting from near on every tooth.

Better, but could be tighter, and the first line is all author, no character. I think the reader can figure out if the guy is a journalist (and “roving” isn’t really needed) if a rewrite went something like this—and I’ve tightened the second paragraph):

The warning from Michael O’Sheen’s boss still rang in his ears—“Get a decent story, or you’re out.”

He shoved his way past beggars and traders at Male’s flea market, ready to pounce on anything that’d make a story for Scuba International. Was about to say feck it when he spotted a set of padlocks tangled in wire. He caressed them, peered closely. Those engravings . . . He scowled to keep his excitement from showing. Couldn’t resist losing the heart-skipped-a-beat cliché.

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Now, on to Jovan’s first 16 lines—she tells me that she has never written before:

I was almost caught this time. I’ll have to remember that The People wake before dawn on the days the alarm rings. My name is Winifred Abigail Mary Alice Winthrop, but you can call me Baby. I am a master of illusion and escape, part-time philanthropist, a poet, a dreamer, and of course, a chinchilla.

I hate to be braggardly, but I happen to be one of the most intelligent rodents I have ever met. I was born in a science classroom with a brother and a sister, and had the good sense to make the most of it. During a school break in my early child hood, I had the exquisite fortune to be left in the care of The Reading Teacher, where I mastered the art of reading. My poor siblings were more interested in quarrelling over the dust bath. I, however, was enthralled with my new skill, and made it my personal mission to absorb as much information as I could.

A couple of weeks later (which is really quite a long time according the Standard Chinchilla Calendar), we were returned to the science classroom. I was overjoyed when I realized that I could understand the material that was being taught, and surprised myself by even having a few ideas of my own. My mother would sometimes wake during 8th grade chemistry (my favorite class), and box my ears for staying up so late in the day, but it was always worth it.

I was about six weeks old when I learned, quite by mistake, that I could squeeze easily through (snip)

Lots of charm, little tension
Now, since I’ve written a novel narrated by an animal character, I’m an easy target for something like this. The voice is quite nice and fresh, too. And the writing is good. The opening line raised a good story question, and the character introduced herself in a fun way.

But then we slipped into backstory. A lot of telling goes on. Even though interesting, we’ve left the story behind, and, potentially, readers. It could be that a middle-grade reader would be captivated enough to carry on—but it would be much better to captivate them with story. The story involves a burgler about to invade the home of Winnie’s owner’s home, and there could be a good adventure coming. But the following pages told a lot of throat-clearing backstory before getting to the good stuff. Believe me, Jovan, the story of the character’s birth and education really isn’t necessary in the opening of the story, and probably not at all.

There are very few, if any, nits to pick in the writing, which I liked a lot. Rather than do that, I’ll give you a piece from later in the manuscript which, added to the first paragraph above, would make 16 lines.

It has been my good fortune that my home is lined with news paper daily. It is also my good fortune that the Girl is a tad rushed, and tends to leave large portions of news stories intact. It was upon reading one particular story about a thief whom the authorities could not catch that my interest was peaked. Now, I know all about thieves, I have siblings after all. And there is one thing that I just can not tolerate, and that is a thief. But this Human thief was even worse than my poor siblings. This person was stealing works of art. From people’s homes! Now that is one bad Human. It just didn’t rest well with me. The only clue the police had was that there was a white van seen in the area of each burglary the day before.

One night as I was sitting on my high perch and enjoying a hidden snack The Girl left for me, I heard a commotion outside of the window beside my cage. We chinchillas have amazing hearing, and I distinctly heard two deep voices in a hushed but heated exchange.

“I did my part, now you get me what I want,” whispered Angry.

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Storyteller’s Review: Tess Gerritsen’s “The Keepsake”

Every so often I do a “Storyteller’s Review” of a novel, which is a look at a novel from the craft side to see how it deals with the all-important opening page/chapter, and how well it achieves the requirements that I feel are vital for a successful story:
• Tension
• Story questions
• Voice
• Clarity
• Scene setting
• Character

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Gerritsen got me from the git-go

As readers of my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, will learn, there’s a section on why creating tension in your first sentence is such a good idea -- it gets a reader to the second sentence, and you draw your reader into your story sentence by sentence by sentence. Here’s Tess’s opener from The Keepsake:

He is coming for me.

Not only was that the first sentence, it was the first paragraph—a stand-alone jolt of tension. It definitely moved me to the second sentence.

I feel it in my bones.

I had to move on to the third . . .

I sniff it in the air, as recognizable as the scent of hot sand and savory spices and the sweat of a hundred men toiling in the sun.

With this serving of imagery, she has introduced exotic new elements that promised, to me, a place I’d never been before. I wasn’t disappointed. Tess knows how to open a story.

The first chapter created plenty of tension for me, and ended with this irresistible lure:

I turn and face the evil.

How can you not turn the page?

Story questions I can’t illustrate the chapter endings for the rest of the book without being a spoiler, but, for me, Gerritsen showed her talent for crafting story questions—it’s like drawing puzzle pieces from a box one at a time and finding that the new one fits with the old one. When you’ve absorbed that piece, the questions it raises makes you need to find out what the next piece is like, so you reach into the box . . .

Voice Gerritsen has a clear, straightforward, confident voice in her narrative. You always feel that you’re in the hands of a pro, and you can trust her to tell you a good story. On the craft side, there’s a nice use of another aspect of voice—that of the characters. The first chapter, as you’ve seen, is first person, and the clear voice of a character. There’s only one other first-person chapter—the last one. They bookend the story, successfully, in my view. After the first chapter, we slip into third person narrative from various points of view, and Tess does a good job of flavoring each character’s appearance, with each personality reflected in the individual narratives.

Clarity I don’t recall a moment where what was happening was not absolutely clear. No, this is a pro that knows how to get the story onto the page with no unsteadiness that takes you out of the flow. Enough said.

Scene setting The scenes were clearly set—but only whenever they needed to be—in a nicely minimalist, experiential way. She gives you enough to let you see the context of what’s happening, and frequent flavorings of a character’s point of view “personalize” the description to the experience of the character. I didn’t find gobs of description that I was tempted to skip.

Character The story revolves around Gerritsen’s two primary continuing characters, Detective Jane Rizzoli and medical examiner Dr. Maura Isles. I liked these characters, primarily because we see aspects of their persons and lives aside from hound-like trailing of the mystery’s scent, yet it’s done without slowing pace or interest. She gives us insights into the other players, too, enough to make them human beings, and yet not so much as to turn the story expressway into a meander down a country lane.

The story Oh, I suppose you want to know more about the story. It starts with a mummy, but not your everyday ancient Egyptian mummy—but that discovery opens a door to one fascinating aspect of the book, a window into the world of archaeology and a particularly sordid part of its underbelly. Rather than reinvent, I’ll just quote here from the book jacket flap copy (something we all need to know how to write anyway).

For untold years, the perfectly preserved mummy had lain forgotten in the dusty basement of Boston’s Crispin Museum. Now its sudden rediscovery by museum staff is both a major coup and an attention-grabbing mystery. Dubbed “Madam X,” the mummy—to all appearances an ancient Egyptian artifact—seems a ghoulish godsend for the financially struggling institution. But medical examiner Maura Isles soon discovers a macabre message hidden within the corpse—horrifying proof that the “centuries-old” relic is instead a modern-day murder victim.

To Maura and Boston homicide detective Jane Rizzoli, the forensic evidence is unmistakable, its implications terrifying. And when the grisly remains of yet another woman are found in the hidden recesses of the museum, it becomes chillingly clear that a maniac is at large—and is now taunting them.

Archaeologist Josephine Pulcillo’s blood runs cold when the killer’s cryptic missives are discovered, and her darkest dread becomes real when the carefully preserved corpse of yet a third victim is left in her car like a gruesome offering—or perhaps a ghastly promise of what’s to come.

The twisted killer’s familiarity with post-mortem rituals suggests to Maura and Jane that he may have scientific expertise in common with Josephine. But only Josephine knows that her stalker shares a knowledge even more personally terrifying: details of a dark secret she had thought forever buried.

Now Maura must summon her own dusty knowledge of ancient death traditions to unravel a murderer’s twisted endgame. And when Josephine vanishes, Maura and Jane have precious little time to detail the Archaeology Killer before he adds another chilling artifact to his monstrous collection.

In short, I recommend The Keepsake to you as both a fun read and a novel-length example of professional craft.

For what it’s worth.

Comments, anyone?

Ray

---

Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Kieron. Would you turn the page?

---

But first, have a laugh today. Check out my book on Authonomy —if you like it, register and back it.

---

But second, sign up for the “Friends of FtQ NewsNotes” Email me with a "Yes" and your first and last name.

---

My book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, should be ready for shipping May 1. You can sign up to be notified of availability at Amazon.com.

---

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). Directions for submissions are below.

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.

---

Kieron’s first 16 lines:

Little did Michael O'Sheen know he was on the cusp of a monumental find. Frustrated, angry at himself, he shoved his way past the beggars and traders of Male’s flea-market in the Maldive Islands, where indefinable aromas clung to him like shadows. The sway of his frame, curl of lip and salty roughness could scatter mothers with children, his boss once said. That plus his scruffy bandana and monstrous watch screamed danger. In reality, Michael O’Sheen was Scuba International's roving journalist, soon to be shown the swing-doors of his London office block if he failed to deliver - again.

To wipe his sweating face, he whipped the bandana off his neck, exposing a deep scar -- donated by the swipe of a passing manta ray’s tail-end whilst diving off the Barrier Reef. He carried little with him as he scoured the cluttered market-place. When travelling, Michael took two spare changes of clothes, 35 mm Leica MP, an iPod and several thousand American Express travellers cheques in US Dollars ? plus enough cash to bribe his way around. His scuba equipment travelled unaccompanied in one bag. A rival magazine had recently described Michael O'Sheen's career as “diving into an abyss ? a literary pirate ? a legend in his own mind.” He didn't care. Thumbed his nose at the critics, broke the rules at every turn ? diving with just a cylinder strapped to his bare back and a pair of fins that bore the scars of several curious sharks.

Exposition jam stopped me
The writing is good, no doubt, and things did get interesting later on—but not enough on the first page for this reader. In the first paragraph, there were point-of–view issues, and a lot of telling. And I’m not a fan of what the first sentences tries to do—interest me with something the omniscient author knows but the character doesn’t.

In the second, an info-dump is piled in front of the entrance to the story—how is it important for the reader to know on the first page, the page that needs to set the hook, that what this guy travels with, right down to his iPod and travelers checks? I don’t think it’s necessary at all. Some notes:

Little did Michael O'Sheen know he was on the cusp of a monumental find. Frustrated, angry at himself, he shoved his way past the beggars and traders of Male’s flea-market in the Maldive Islands, where indefinable aromas clung to him like shadows. The sway of his frame, curl of lip and salty roughness could scatter mothers with children, his boss once said. That plus his scruffy bandana and monstrous watch screamed danger. In reality, Michael O’Sheen was Scuba International's roving journalist, soon to be shown the swing-doors of his London office block if he failed to deliver - again. (First line: I believe the author should lead the reader to discover monumental events through the character’s experiences, not via an announcement. What suspense is there if we already know? What reason to read the narrative that immediately follows rather than skim ahead until we find the event? I don’t know about you, but I don’ think I’d find that a scruffy bandanna and a large watch would “scream” danger at me—this statement leads me to question the credibility of the narrator. What else waits that is so questionable? And the last sentence is the beginning of the info-dump, information that would hardly be on the character’s mind at this moment [the point-of-view issue].)

To wipe his sweating face, he whipped the bandana off his neck, exposing a deep scar -- donated by the swipe of a passing manta ray’s tail-end whilst diving off the Barrier Reef. He carried little with him as he scoured the cluttered market-place. When travelling, Michael took two spare changes of clothes, 35 mm Leica MP, an iPod and several thousand American Express travellers cheques in US Dollars ? plus enough cash to bribe his way around. His scuba equipment travelled unaccompanied in one bag. A rival magazine had recently described Michael O'Sheen's career as “diving into an abyss ? a literary pirate ? a legend in his own mind.” He didn't care. Thumbed his nose at the critics, broke the rules at every turn ? diving with just a cylinder strapped to his bare back and a pair of fins that bore the scars of several curious sharks. There are ways to weave all this information into what happens. I just didn’t find the details of his travelling modus operandi interesting, much less compelling.)

A page or two later, the character buys a mysterious set of locks that he sees as leading to something very valuable (good story question) and the seller warns him to “Beware the Jinni” (great story question, terrific tension inducer). If Kieron could find a way to get those two things to happen on the first page, I’m certain that he’ll have no trouble weaving in all the throat-clearing information later. But first, get the STORY started.

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

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Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Micro-Tension, an excerpt from the new Donald Maass book

Donald Maass, one of the top fiction literary agents, contacted me and other bloggers to offer short excerpts from his forthcoming book, The Fire in Fiction: Passion, Purpose and Techniques to Make Your Novel Great. I chose the one on Micro-Tension. I cover this in topic one of the sections in my book with Tess Gerritsen’s take on what Don had to say in one of the workshops she attended.

A literary agent in New York, Donald Maass’s agency sells more than 150 novels every year to major publishers in the U.S. and overseas. He is also the author of The Career Novelist (1996), Writing the Breakout Novel (2001), and Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook (2004).

I have all of his books, and have ordered the new one. They’re well worth it. What you may not know is that Maass is also a published novelist and a keen analyst of fiction. For his Breakout book, he analyzed 100 successful novels to detect the commonalities that contributed to their success. The reason he sells them so well is that he understands what makes them sell, and how to make that happen.

Here’s the description he sent of his new book, and then the excerpt. And thanks, Don, for your contributions to all of us wannabe novelists.

In his new book, New York literary agent Donald Maass illuminates the techniques of master contemporary novelists. Some authors write powerhouse novels every time. What are they doing differently on the page? Maass not only explains, he shows you how you can right away use the techniques of greatness in your current manuscript.

Micro-Tension
Conflict is story. We hardly need discuss that any further. Every novelist who’s gotten beyond the beginner stage knows it. What many do not grasp, though, including many published novelists, is that what keeps us turning hundreds of pages is not a central conflict, main problem or primary goal.

Think about it. If that was all it took to get keep readers involved to the end, then all you would have to do is set a principal plot problem at the outset. Then you could indulge yourself however you like for hundreds of pages.

Imagine.

Of course it is not like that. Conflict must be present in smaller ways throughout. Most novelists understand that too, or say they do. Despite that I am able to skim vast swaths of virtually all manuscripts and portions of many published novels.

What is it, then, that keeps us reading all the way? Is it conflict within each scene; a character in every chapter who has a clearly stated goal? Is it avoiding low-tension traps such as back story, aftermath, landscape and weather openings, empty exposition and unneeded dialogue? Is it keeping the action moving? Is it throwing in sex and violence for occasional jolts of adrenalin and allure? Is it luck?

What keeps us reading every word on every page of a novel is none of that. Consider the page turners on your shelves that do open with weather or scenery, or quickly dump in back story, or linger in aftermath and indulge in exposition. How do those authors get away with it?

Conversely, think about those highly-plotted, action-packed novels that didn’t hold your attention. Think about the violence that moved you not at all and the sex scenes that you skipped. Weren’t those novelists doing it right, writing by the rules? How come, then, you set those novels aside?

Holding a reader’s attention every word of the way is a function not of the type of novel you’re writing, a good premise, tight writing, quick pace, showing not telling or any of the other conventionally understood and frequently taught principles of storytelling.

Keeping readers constantly in your grip comes from the steady application of something else altogether: Micro-tension. That is the tension that constantly keeps your reader wondering what will happen—not in the story, but in the next few seconds.

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

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Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

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Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Amanda. Would you turn the page?

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But first, have a laugh today. Check out my book on Authonomy —if you like it, register and back it.

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But second, sign up for the “Friends of FtQ NewsNotes” Email me with a "Yes" and your first and last name.

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My book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, should be ready for shipping May 1. You can sign up to be notified of availability at Amazon.com.

---

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). Directions for submissions are below.

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.

---

Amanda’s first 16 lines of a YA novel:

It began with a key, cold and strangely heavy in Jenna’s hand. She knew she shouldn’t open the small cherry wood box on Matthew’s desk, the glossy container placed neatly amongst the clutter of dragon sculptures. The mobiles in Matthew’s room had fluttered around her as she entered, knights and creatures swirling around each other on thin white strings, weaving together and apart in a whispering dance of paper.

Jenna shouldn’t have entered Matthew’s room at all, but the door had been ajar, and the mystery inside had simply glowed at her, a spectrum of glossy porcelain wings unfurled in every direction.

When she had told Sarah that she was paired up with Matthew for the English assignment, Sarah had screwed up her nose.

“You’re so unlucky,” Sarah said.

“Why?” Jenna said.

“Everyone knows Matthew is weird,” Sarah said, in less than a whisper. She had probably wanted everyone to hear her recounting the school lore. “I’ve heard…things.”

“What sort of things?” Jenna had wanted to know. Sarah had leaned in and arched her eyebrows.

Not this time
Despite some good writing and an interesting opening, it was craft issues that stopped me from turning this page—some overwriting, a lack of clarity in an early spot, and what appears to be a plunge into exposition at the end of the page. Notes:

It began with a key, cold and strangely heavy in Jenna’s hand. She knew she shouldn’t open the small cherrywood box on Matthew’s desk, the glossy container placed neatly amongst the a clutter of dragon sculptures. The mobiles in Matthew’s room had fluttered around her as when she entered, knights and creatures swirling around each other on thin white strings, weaving together and apart in a whispering dance of paper. (There’s some nice description and imagery here, however . . . “strangely” is an adverb trying to do the job of description and, as usual, failing. What is “strangely heavy?” For me, this doesn’t create a notion of the actual experience. I think plain “heavy” would do, or perhaps more description—how large is it? Or could it be twice as heavy as a simple key should be? “Small” is a conclusion word and also fails to give a picture—what size is the box? The size of a bar of soap? A box of tissues? Her fist? I cut “the glossy” because it was not needed and slowed pace, and I wondered if a teen would use the word “container” in this way. I cut “thin” because, by definition, string is thin stuff. I liked the “whispering dance” imagery.)

Jenna shouldn’t have entered Matthew’s room at all, but the door had been ajar, and the mystery inside had simply glowed at her, a spectrum of glossy porcelain wings unfurled in every direction. (This was my clarity issue. After the concrete images of the first paragraph, which included dragons that probably have wings and paper creatures, I had no idea what “glossy porcelain wings unfurled in every direction” referred to. It’s a nicely turned phrase, but what does it mean?)

When she had told Sarah that she was paired up with Matthew for the English assignment, Sarah had screwed up her nose. (Red light! We’re about to enter exposition and backstory. This is no time to detour from the NOW of the story.)

“You’re so unlucky,” Sarah said.

“Why?” Jenna said.

“Everyone knows Matthew is weird,” Sarah said, in less than a whisper. She had probably wanted everyone to hear her recounting the school lore. Sarah leaned in and arched her eyebrows. “I’ve heard…things.” If you want the reader to see how a character delivers a speech, the description needs to come before she delivers it, not a paragraph later. Also, the scene in which this is set is missing—what “everyone?” Are they, for example, in the hallway at school between classes where there could be an “everyone” to hear?)

“What sort of things?” Jenna had wanted to know. Sarah had leaned in and arched her eyebrows. (I cut the second sentence because it was redundant overwriting—the simple placement of a question mark at the end of her statement communicates to the reader that she wants to know. This slows the narrative pace.)

The following pages mixed more good writing with craft issues. On page three, for example, we head-hop in the midst of the narrative into Matthew’s point of view for a single paragraph and back again, right after we are told that Jenna fails to hear his approach—the problem with that is that if we’re in a character’s point of view, we need to stick with what she can see, feel, think, say, and do. . .but not what she can’t do, which is to be aware of having not been aware of something at the time she is not aware of it.

The story is there, the characters are appealing, so keep at it. . .but also keep it simple, and clear, and in one point of view.

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Liz. Would you turn the page?

---

But first, have a laugh today. Check out my book on Authonomy —if you like it, register and back it.

---

But second, sign up for the “Friends of FtQ NewsNotes” Email me with a "Yes" and your first and last name.

---

My book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, is now available for pre-order at Amazon.com. I should be shipping within in a few weeks, and early orders will be tremendously helpful.

---

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). Directions for submissions are below.

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.

---

Liz’s first 16 lines:

Anna Huntington was dead set on burning one more terrorist. Her latest mark, Fareed Baraday, had alluded her capture long enough. The CIA had terminated their interest in the Al-Shoka dynasty at the time of his grandfather’s death.

After swiping her clearance badge through the security slide, she slipped into the large storage building, north of Washington D.C. The warehouse housed records government records, including those from Langley.

The crumpled piece of paper she gripped in her hand held the location of the file box she wanted -- written in shorthand by her source inside the agency. Funny how computer records could be made to disappear for techno-amateurs like her, but paper inside boxes inside warehouses lived on forever.

The money trail kept leading her in circles, but always back to Italy. As a Certified Public Accountant and now, Special Treasury Agent for the Office of Foreign Asset Control, she knew her general ledgers and she could smell a trail of money no matter how stale the scent. Money still flowed. For a dead man, Baraday seemed to be quiet wealthy.

Baraday was better than most. It had taken her awhile to realize he’d had help. Important help that led to another smelly trail inside the government, a slippery trail that she (snip)

Exposition put the brakes on for me
Some readers like lots of setup at the opening of a story, but not me, even though the writing is solid. And, interestingly, just about all of this same information comes a little later, and is doled out in a good scene. This is an example of the “throat-clearing syndrome,” where writers tell us stuff they think we need to know. In my view, it’s much better to let the reader discover what she needs to know.

I’ll point out to Liz that it’s “eluded,” not “alluded” here, and then post what I think would be a better starting point, lifted from the narrative a few pages on (although tightened considerably). And you get a better feel for voice.

Anna Huntington ripped open the box. She caught one glance at the paper on top before she heard a sound behind her.

She whirled.

“That case information is classified,” David Freeman said. The CIA agent’s voice echoed in the vast storage vault.

He leaned against a shelf, hands shoved inside his pockets. His shoes were spotless and shiny, but his eyes were dark and dangerous.

Anna fumbled inside the pocket of her skirt. She flashed her badge. “This is agency business, Freeman. I’ve every right to be here.”

Her fingers wavered and her arm bobbed up and down. Freeman didn’t even look at the badge she held out. Probably couldn’t even read her identification the way she shook.

“Treasury?” he said with a hint of disdain. “Ms. Huntington, I’ve eaten three agents for breakfast this morning. Don’t think that badge means a rat’s ass to me.”

“You’re not above the law, Freeman.” Anna crumpled. She must look like a mouse up against a mountain lion.

“I never said I was, but there are unwritten rules in my profession and you don’t have a clue how (snip)

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Judy. Would you turn the page?

---

But first, have a laugh today. Check out my book on Authonomy —if you like it, register and back it.

---

But second, sign up for the “Friends of FtQ NewsNotes” Email me with a "Yes" and your first and last name.

---

My book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, is now available for pre-order at Amazon.com. I should be shipping within in a few weeks, and early orders will be tremendously helpful.

---

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). Directions for submissions are below.

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.

---

Judy’s first 16 lines:

Krelis sprinted away from the shoreline, although he knew it wouldn’t help. Master Antigonus scheduled an assembly for that evening, and time slipped away from him, again. Salty air burned the young wizard’s lungs as he raced toward the gloomy conservatory. A black robe fluttered around his feet.

Maybe, I’ll make it on time. Vertical lines appeared on his forehead.

Moments earlier, before he even remembered the meeting, Krelis had been lost in the serenity of the beach. He stopped to watch the gliding seagulls. Drifting effortlessly against the orange backdrop of the descending sun, they tucked their wings and dove into the frothy whitecaps. An ocean breeze rolled over the choppy waters, lifting dark hair away from his face as wet sand squished between his toes.

He loved life on the small island located in the Gulf of Redrock. Free from the troubles that plagued the rest of Known World, Krelis and his peers practiced their art uninterrupted.

After his father died the day after his tenth birthday, Krelis believed happiness would forever elude him. Then Antigonus discovered him, drawn by the boy’s innate, magical ability. The master wizard brought him to this island, and Krelis found the lost happiness with his newfound family.

I wasn’t hooked
Despite sound writing about a nicely imagined world, there were “storycraft” shortcomings that left this page unturned, including a lack of tension. There’s a little—the boy might be late for an assembly, but what are the consequences? As I think I’ve mentioned before, the first page always gives clues as to what craft issues might lie ahead, and this one forecasts a degree of overwriting. Notes:

Krelis sprinted away from the shoreline, although he knew it wouldn’t help. Master Antigonus had scheduled an assembly for that evening, and time had slipped away from him, again. Salty air burned the young wizard’s lungs as he raced toward the gloomy conservatory. A black robe fluttered around his feet. (It would help if there were troublesome consequences to being late that could be mentioned. The robe fluttering “around his feet” didn’t work for me. It’s intended to show that it’s long, but the “around” sounded like it wrapped his feet. If he were in danger of tripping on the hem of his robe, that might make the picture more clear.)

Maybe I’ll make it on time. Vertical lines appeared on his forehead. (Does “vertical lines” mean “frowned?” If so, keep it simple. This is a bit of the overwriting I mentioned. Another thing: not only does it take the long way around to describe a frown, the description doesn’t really contribute because the internal monologue does the trick. Another thing: this is a break in point of view from close in the boy’s pov to a distant author’s pov—he can’t see what appears on his forehead. Another thing: internal monologue like this can avoid the italics like this: Maybe he’d make it on time.)

Moments earlier, before he even remembered the meeting, Krelis had been lost in the serenity of the beach. He had stopped to watch the gliding seagulls. Drifting effortlessly against the orange backdrop of the descending sun, they tucked their wings and dove into the frothy whitecaps. An ocean breeze rolled over the choppy waters, lifting dark hair away from his face as wet sand squished between his toes. (While prettily done, this does nothing to advance the story, thus is so many critical first-page lines spent for little gain. A slight point-of-view transgression: since we’re in his close point of view, he wouldn’t be thinking of his hair as being “dark.” This self-descriptive intrusion happens later, too.)

He loved life on the small island located in the Gulf of Redrock. Free from the troubles that plagued the rest of Known World, Krelis and his peers practiced their art uninterrupted. (Nice, but where’s the story? Also, “the toubles” is vague and can’t really mean anything. War, or battle, or some other actual trouble would help, but I think this paragraph could go. This information could be woven in later when Krelis is told of his mission.)

After his father died the day after his tenth birthday, Krelis had believed happiness would forever elude him. Then Antigonus had discovered him, drawn by the boy’s innate, magical ability. The master wizard brought him to this island, and Krelis found the lost happiness with his newfound family. (In my view, the first page is no time to slip into backstory. This suggests that we’re in for an “info dump,” and that pretty much turned out to be true. Also, we slip out of Krelis’s point of view into an omniscient author with the reference to “the boy’s innate magical ability" [no comma needed].)

Judy should definitely keep working; the rest of the chapter, while primarily throat-clearing establishment of a host of characters in a non-threatening scene, promised an interesting world and an interesting story. And it was a lively scene (with bits of overwriting and point of view issues, though). Were I you, Judy, I’d consider starting with a brief scene-setting bit, something like this:

Krelis tensed when Master Antigonus strode into the room, and the chatter from his fellow students around the circular table dropped to a murmur.

And then I’d launch the story with this speech, taken from the very end of your first chapter.

Antigonus held up his hand up, silencing the room. “I brought you to my island for two reasons. The first, I have now accomplished. I promised to teach others talented in magic to be wizards, and you are all finished as my students. Now, it is time to reveal the other reason.”

Comments, anyone?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Tips & Subscriptions Your generosity helps defray the cost of hosting FtQ.

---

Public floggings available. If I can post it here,

1. 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.
2. Please format your submission as specified at the front of this post.
3. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
4. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
5. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
6. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES

© 2009 Ray Rhamey