
A sample of The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles is here. You can order a paperback or e-book copy there, too. You can subscribe to the podcast series on iTunes or here.
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.
Suzanne’s opening lines:
The adolescent soul harbors an irresistible drive to break free of his parents’ reign by attacking at their most vulnerable spot. Case in point, Connor reflected, I’m a cop; ergo my fifteen-year-old son was now in trouble with the law.
By the time Connor arrived at the zoo, the animal rights protest was in full rant. Although the zoo had not yet opened for the season, people and vehicles choked its entrance plaza. A row of officers in riot gear had formed a barricade across the forested pathway leading to the turnstiles to prevent additional civilians from joining the protest.
Connor parked in the fire lane and dragged himself out of the vehicle. He paused to slip on a pair of mirrored sunglasses – cop glasses – to shield his eyes from the sunlight glittering off the mounds of snow that stood sentinel along the edge of the parking lot.
A young patrolman hurried to join him. “Hey, Detective O’Brian,” he said. “It’s crazy up here, sir. The duty sergeant asked everyone to park off to the side.” He gestured to the parking lot some fifty yards away.
Connor surveyed the slushy walkway. “I’m not hiking all the way up the drive, Hoesktra,” he said. “You can move my car if you want.” He tossed his keys, which the officer caught neatly in a swift downward arc.

Close, but no
Plenty of things to like—good, clear writing, good voice, an immediate scene—but the tension doesn’t really arise from what’s happening on the first page. The character seems a bit arrogant, too—that’s because there’s a missing piece of characterization missing. I did was curious about his son, but not compelled, and that’s the challenge. This one is close enough that I suspect there will be disagreement. Notes:
The adolescent soul harbors an irresistible drive to break free of his parents’ reign by attacking at their most vulnerable spot. Case in point, Connor reflected, I’m a cop; ergo my fifteen-year-old son was now in trouble with the law. (This worked for me. Told me something about the character and raised a story question.)
By the time Connor arrived at the zoo,The animal rights protest was in full rant. Although the zoo had not yet opened for the season, people and vehicles choked its entrance plaza. A row of officers in riot gear had formed a barricade across the forested pathway leading to the turnstiles to prevent additional civilians from joining the protest. (Okay, barricades and protesters are good. But I think he should see his son among them now instead of on the next page. The part I cut didn’t contribute and slowed pace, IMO.)Connor parked in the fire lane and dragged himself out of the vehicle. He paused to slip on a pair of mirrored sunglasses – cop glasses – to shield his eyes from the sunlight glittering off the mounds of snow that stood sentinel along the edge of the parking lot. (Why did he drag himself out of the car? Doesn’t he care about his kid? Is he hung over? It turns out that he has an injured leg and wears a brace, which is a reason to be sympathetic. But by giving us only “dragged,” we don’t know what’s going on and miss that piece of characterization. If he dragged his bum leg out of the car, we would get a better hint.)
A young patrolman hurried to join him. “Hey, Detective O’Brian,” he said. “It’s crazy up here, sir. The duty sergeant asked everyone to park off to the side.” He gestured to the parking lot some fifty yards away. (This part about where to park really seems unnecessary to me. Why not get on with the story? Cutting this makes room for more compelling elements.)
Connor surveyed the slushy walkway. “I’m not hiking all the way up the drive, Hoesktra,” he said. “You can move my car if you want.” He tossed his keys
, which the officer caught neatly in a swift downward arc. (Since we don’t know about his injured leg, and that he wears a brace and walks with a cane, this makes him seem arrogant and an abuser of power. It misdirects characterization for me, and doesn’t advance the story. You need for everything to either accurately characterize or advance the story, preferably both at the same time. I’d cut these last two paragraphs and get on with it. If those paragraphs were cut, then here’s what we’d move from the second page to the first:Beyond the wall of officers, a gaggle of protestors circled, waving homemade signs and shouting. Each person carried a plastic grocery bag. They were too far away for Connor to read the signs, but he could hear their chanting clearly enough, thanks to a bullhorn.
“Death to the monster! Kill the Frankenbeast!”
Oh, boy.
His son Matthew circled with the rest of the protestors. He was younger than the others (snip)(I found this considerably more compelling than narrative about where to park the car.
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 line edit/critique of up to 15 pages.
- If you rewrite while you wait you turn, send me the revision.
© 2010 Ray Rhamey