What happens if you throw a contest and nobody comes?
Nobody wins. This is pretty embarrassing—no one wanted to win a signed
book and maybe some gear enough to enter the BuzzBlast contest. Ah,
well. I’ll try something else next week. I still need help spreading
the word to visit www.vampirekittycat.com. Will you?
The Flogometer challenge:compels me to turn to the next page? Caveat: Please keep in mind that this is entirely subjective.
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.
Melissa has sent a prologue and first chapter. The prologue’s first 16 lines:
The cool spring morning carried the sounds of children running and
playing. A father was taking his daughter for a ride on a pony. The
daughter held onto the reigns tightly, but completely trusted her
father to keep her safe as they rode up the mountainside.
“There you go now. I think I will be letting go soon.”
“No, father, wait!” the child cried. “Not yet.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Don’t let go!” the child persisted.
“I think you have it, Ella. I am going to let go.”
“Okay,” the child said warily.
The father let go, watching his daughter with pride. He adored her,
and everyone they knew said that she had him tied tightly around her
little finger.
“Father, I’m scared!”
“You’re doing fine, Ella. Keep going.”
The pony began trotting faster and the child lost all confidence and
security. She let go of the reigns and leaned backward as the horse
continued to move. The ground caught her after (snip)
And now the opening of the first chapter
If you drink water and breathe air, then you have heard the story of
Cinderella. And, if you drink water and breathe air, you have heard
it…wrong.
There was no fairy Godmother, no glass slipper. There was no wicked
step mother or wicked step sisters. There wasn’t even a prince, at
least not in the way that you might think. And if you are expecting
everyone to live happily ever after, you might as well stop reading
now. For a happy ending is not something that can be expected or
predicted, and the story is still unfolding, even as you read.
The true story of Cinderella is about a family, which consisted of a
father, a mother, and four sisters. The family lived in a small cottage
on the side of a steep mountain. It was embedded deep in a grove of
aspen trees, and was a great distance from any other structure in the
kingdom.
For a time, the family was happy. The father and mother found joy in
their daughters, played with them while they were still small, took the
time to tuck them in at night, and treated them all as precious jewels.
The sisters played together well, and grew in friendship and love, with
only the occasional sisterly squabble, like when the eldest would rip
from the hands of the youngest her favorite toy merely to see her wail.
For me, the first chapter was irresistible A strong,
confident narrative voice assured me that I had one of the most famous
stories on the planet all wrong—how could I not turn the page? The
prologue, on the other hand, didn’t manage to create much in the way of
tension or raise story questions. The child did fall off the pony, but
the tone and mood of the narrative suggested that there would be no
harm (there was none).
But the chapter opening, in addition to challenging what I “believe”
about Cinderella, also raised story questions with this line: For a time, the family was happy.
There was also the suggestion of cruelty ahead from the eldest sister.
With that foreshadowing, I knew something bad would happen to them, and
I wanted to know what it was, especially in the context of this
unfairytale. Nice work, Melissa.
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
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.
TVKC launches today!The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles, is officially on sale today. I hope you’ll email friends to visit the website, vampirekittycat.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.
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.
Vaughn’s first 16 lines:
I pulled the pillow harder over my head. I felt just awful. Or maybe
not awful, weird. Every inch of my body felt totally strange. And I was
hot.
I reached down; good grief, I was wearing a shirt. I hadn’t worn a
shirt to bed since was 12 years old and graduated from pajamas to
briefs at night. I tugged at it, and the stupid thing stuck underneath
me. I finally got it off and tossed it out of bed, my head still firmly
buried under the covers. A shirt. I must have been wasted when I went
to bed last night. I didn’t remember drinking, but how else could I
have gone to bed with my shirt still on? And I felt so weird.
I was just rolling over again when a knock came at the door, “Bobby!
Bobby, don’t forget. You promised to drive me to my rehearsal this
morning!” I did? Another thing I forgot about last night. Oh what a
morning. My eyes still mostly shut, and my head whirling, I got up and
stumbled to the door. “Bobby?!” Jenny said, as I opened it.
But I didn’t have any energy for little sisters just then. I needed
a shower something awful, and I had to pee. I just waved at her as I
brushed past her into the bathroom, kicking the door mostly closed with
my foot. I stumbled over to the toilet, dropped my briefs, threw them
in a corner, and sat down. I didn’t think I even had the energy to
stand up. Even peeing felt weird. My head was totally spinning. I
looked up at the mirror, wondering just how wasted I was.
The page-turn stuff was, unfortunately, on the next page It’s
tough, this 16-line challenge. Or even 17 lines. In this case, the one
that would have created enough of a story question to move me forward
was on line 19—the next page, unless you play with the formatting a
little. Until then, we just have someone dealing with a hangover, not
the most tense of scenes. It actually has a much more interesting
premise than that.
More than that, when I did learn what was going on, the narrative’s
credibility didn’t live long. You see, this person waking up is a
boy/believes he is a boy, but he’s in a young woman’s body. His sister
is still his sister and his mother his mother, and they see nothing
wrong. But his clothes are all women’s clothes now, and his body is
female, and at least a foot shorter. But the only reaction is that he
must be dreaming, only in selective parts. For me, considering what is
revealed, it doesn’t ring true. Notes:
I pulled the pillow harder over my head. I felt just awful. Or maybe
not awful, weird. Every inch of my body felt totally strange. And I was
hot. (The narrative is trying to tease us into
the character’s feeing “weird” and “strange,” but they are just summary
words, telling. As abstracts, they give no picture, no experiential
narrative. For me, only the hot part works.)
I reached down; good grief, I was wearing a shirt. I hadn’t worn a shirt to bed since was 12 twelve
years old and graduated from pajamas to briefs at night. I tugged at
it, and the stupid thing stuck underneath me. I finally got it off and
tossed it out of bed, my head still firmly buried under the covers. A
shirt. I must have been wasted when I went to bed last night. I didn’t
remember drinking, but how else could I have gone to bed with my shirt
still on? And I felt so weird. (If the character
is hot, why still under the covers? Wouldn’t this be the first thing to
come off? And still with the weirdness—what is causing that feeling?)
I was just rolling over again when a knock came at the door, “Bobby!
Bobby, don’t forget. You promised to drive me to my rehearsal this
morning!” I did had? Another thing I forgot I’d forgotten
about last night. Oh what a morning. My eyes still mostly shut, and my
head whirling, I got up and stumbled to the door. “Bobby?!” Jenny said,
as I opened it.
But I didn’t have any energy for little sisters just then. I needed
a shower something awful, and I had to pee. I just waved at her as I
brushed past her into the bathroom, kicking the door mostly closed with my foot. I stumbled over to the toilet, dropped my briefs, threw them in a corner, and sat down. I didn’t think I even had the energy to stand up. Even peeing felt weird. My head was totally spinning. I looked up at the mirror, wondering just how wasted I was. (I
cut the foot because what else would you kick a door shut with. More
feeling weird without the what that feels weird. Here’s what the
character is not experiencing: breasts; pink panties; urinating from a
vulva, not a penis. How is that possible? Can you imagine waking up
and having a completely different body and not noticing? I guarantee
you, if I had awakened this morning with breasts, wearing pink panties
instead of my normal briefs, and not having a penis, I would have
noticed. Were I female, I would have noticed not having breasts,
wearing briefs instead of my normal panties, and having a penis. That
this character doesn’t makes him/her so unreliable that I’m not
interested in following him or her because he/she seems unable to
deliver to me what should be a fascinating experience—gender
transformation, and all that goes with that.)
As I said, a good premise, but the attempt to surprise the reader
and the character with what has happened doesn’t feel real at all to
me. In the later portions of the chapter, the character just keeps
going and never really questions or reacts to the transformation,
stubbornly (even after a shower) thinking it’s a dream, and doesn't
question being unable to wake up. It just didn’t play. For me, I think
it would have been much more interesting for the character to realize
early on what has happened and then have to deal with it. What would
she/he say to her mother and sister? How would they react? Fiction
helps us survive by exploring how to deal with unexpected things, but
this narrative refuses to go there, at least not soon enough for me.
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
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.
