Friday Fun: the podcast of The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles, chapter two, is above. It weighs in at 16 minutes. Please give it a try when you could use a break, a laugh, and can play sound. Oh, and I’d love to get your feedback on it. Eventually these will be compiled into a single audiobook. You can now subscribe to the series for free at PodOmatic and iTunes. If you like what you hear, visit www.vampire.com for more fun.
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.
Katherine's first 16 lines:
I give this a “yes, but. . .”At two am in the morning Chiquita’s father shook her awake. “Pack some clothes,” he said. “Don’t take too long. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
He left before she could ask any questions. Half-asleep, she dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to her dresser. She dumped the top two drawers into a bag, eyes half-closed, and lurched downstairs.
Her father was in the kitchen tossing objects into a backpack. Leaning against the door frame, Chiquita watched them disappear inside – sheaves of science records, keys; their passports. All the small things vital to their life. The pack swallowed them whole and demanded more, its dark, gaping maw insatiable.
“Dad, what’s going on?”
Her father froze, laying his palms flat on the kitchen counter. He leaned all of his weight on the bench, before he turned. When she saw his haggard expression, her stomach did a double flip.
“We’re going to the airport. Have you got your things?”
“But Dad, where are we going? And why?”
“There’s a Convention in Perth, we’re going to that. Grab your bags.”
“We’re going to Australia?”
Katherine
writes that she has no idea at what level her writing is (and assumes
it’s all terrible). Well, it’s at a pretty good level—you created just
enough tension in this opening to make me wonder what would happen
next. What happens next is a wild chase in the night, shots, and a car
crash. So, on the storytelling side, not bad at all. There was some
overwriting here and there, though, so watch out for that. Notes:
At two a.m.,
in the morningChiquita’s father shook her awake. “Pack some clothes,” he said. “Don’t take too long. We’re leaving in ten minutes.” (No need for “in the morning” if it’s a.m. I’d use the periods in “a.m.” because otherwise it looks like “am.” Giving the time this way is a sort of acceptable use of summary/telling, but it could have been done experientially to get you inside the character’s head. For example: Chiquita’s father shook her awake. “Pack some clothes,” he said. “Don’t take too long, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” It was dark. She squinted at her clock. 2:00? In the morning?)He left before she could ask any questions. Half-asleep, she dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to her dresser. She dumped the top two drawers into a bag, eyes half-closed, and lurched downstairs. (I bought this on the first read, but in going back through I question the credibility of her simply dumping two drawers into her bag and having thus packed a normal assortment of underwear, socks, shirts, pants or skirts, etc. It’s a bit too easy. I wouldn’t go into detail on what she packs and how, she could just rummage through drawers and her closet until the bag was full.)
Her father was in the kitchen, tossing objects into a backpack. Leaning against the door frame, Chiquita watched them disappear inside – sheaves of science records, keys; their passports.
All the small things vital to their life. The pack swallowed them whole and demanded more, its dark, gaping maw insatiable.(I felt this was more detail than necessary [overwriting] and called too much attention to the backpack. The detail of an insatiable, gaping maw was creepy, but it made me expect something to come that involved the backpack, and that didn’t happen.)“Dad, what’s going on?”
Her father froze, laying his palms flat on the kitchen counter. He leaned all of his weight on the bench, before he turned. When she saw his haggard expression, her stomach did a double flip. (This was, for me, a good way to inject tension and mystery, and was the primary thing that made me turn the page.)
“We’re going to the airport.
Have you got your things?”“But Dad, where are we going? And why?”
“There’s a Convention in Perth, we’re going to that. Grab your bags.”
“We’re going to Australia?” (The shock and surprise of their destination might have more impact if we knew where they were. I’m assuming Britain—what if she thought, in internal monologue, something such as Eight thousand miles?)
Katherine, there was strong writing in the rest of the chapter, with good details to create tension, although at times a bit too much detail. As you polish, remember to give the narrative from inside the girl’s head so we can share her experience.
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
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.
© 2010 Ray Rhamey