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.
Christine’s first 16 lines:
Missing a key ingredientNo new snow had fallen since morning, so the lion’s tracks were clearly visible in the lantern light as the farmer showed them to the four Rangers. It had paced back and forth in front of the barn door, searching for a way in. Deep scratches showed on the wood.
“These were made by a male. A large one,” said Faldur, the captain, stooping to examine the prints. He was as lean and cautious as the cats he pursued, with grey eyes deeply set beneath dark brows, and smoothly-weathered features that concealed his true age. With only thirty-five winters behind him, Faldur was one of the youngest captains ever commissioned in the Rangers, and that mainly for his skill in hunting the black mountain lions that the farmers called “nightstalkers.” They stayed up on the heights in warmer months, but in winter hunger drove them down into the foothills where the Hanorja dwelt. They preferred sheep or poultry, but would kill anything that got between them and their prey.
“It came out of the woods around suppertime,” said the farmer. “The dogs barked fit to wake the dead, and the dories were screaming and kicking the stalls. It gave up, but ‘twill be back. Good thing the sheep were in.” The loss of even a single ewe would be a heavy blow to him, for the fine, soft wool of Glenhym sheep was worth its weight in silver.
“Show me the rest of the tracks,” said Faldur.
This opening begins with a scene and good, clear writing. The world is clearly imagined, the scene is set, we know who the story is about—but, for me, there was no tension in this opening. The men are quite calm, they are in no danger, just discussing tracks in the snow. It does suggest that there might be jeopardy for Faldur or the farmer’s sheep in the future, but that’s not a certainty, nor is there any anxiety on the part of any characters. Christine wrote that she is more comfortable with the omniscient point of view, and that’s okay as long as it’s well done and the narrative raises story questions. When I think about it, I don’t see any compelling story questions here.
The writing is good, though, and I suspect a good story waits to be told—and started. One little nit and then an alternative opening taken from later in the chapter: the narrative says that the lions would kill anything that got between them and their prey—is that the only circumstance that they kill? I suspect not, and that meaning is not what is intended here.
Part of what Christine is trying to do here is to introduce her main
character with an action scene that isn’t the main storyline, sort of
like the opening sequence in the first Indiana Jones movie. I see it as
a certain amount of throat-clearing. Yes, there’s world-building going
on too, but that can, and should, be woven in with compelling story.
Here’s an alternate taken from later in the chapter, Christine, I’ve
trimmed it a lot and simplified it to enhance the action, but you’ll
see where I’m going.
Christine, you’ve got a cool world going here, but for me there was too much info-dump and backstory in the first chapter. I urge you to focus on movement, action, and characterization, weaving in world stuff along the way in small doses.A soft hooting from Harth indicated that he had found the tracks. As Captain Faldur and his partner, Romer, moved into the ravine, a black shape bounded out of the trees. It was a monster nightstalker, a black lion with its head as high as Harth’s shoulder, snow splaying from beneath its huge paws as it ran.
Faldur yelled, “Jump left.” They dived just as it pounced, and it overshot them. Faldur loosed an arrow which lodged in the nightstalker’s shoulder as it turned to attack again, screaming a howl of pain and fury that rang in the frigid air. Faldur surged forward as the lion leaped at Harth, who was stringing an arrow even as he struggled to his feet. Romer regained his legs, raised his blade, and plunged it into the lion’s throat. It collapsed against Harth with a gurgling noise, knocking him sideways and trapping his legs under its body. Romer grabbed the back of the beast’s neck to haul it off.
Then Faldur heard a rustling noise. From the corner of his eye he saw a second nightstalker emerging right beside him. He shouted, “There are two!”
Faldur turned to face the nightstalker. This was too close
-- unless he timed it just right and was able to use the beast’s own weight to impale it on his blade, he was dead. The lion’s ears were back, its yellow eyes fixed on his, its lips curled in a silent snarl. It landed neatly on the (snip)
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
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Public floggings available. If I can post it here,
Submitting to the Flogometer:
- Email your 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter as an attachment (.doc or .rtf preferred, .docx okay) and I'll critique the first page.
- Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
- 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.
© 2009 Ray Rhamey