Flogging the Quill

Flogometer for Anon E.—would you turn the page?

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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 or 17 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.

Storytelling Checklist

Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.

Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.

• Tension
• Story questions
• Voice
• Clarity
• Scene setting
• Character
  

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Anon E. has sent an “introduction,” which I figure is his version of “prologue,” and a first chapter. The introduction’s opening lines:

Just because Connie Wu was the mayor of the third largest city in the nation didn’t mean she saw it beneath her to get down on all fours and scrub away at the peach-colored ceramic tiles of her Hyde Park kitchen. It always bothered her that her hoity-toity neighbors would often take advantage of poor families and new immigrants by paying them next-to-nothing to serve as personal maids and Spanish “cleanup ladies.”

“I clean my own house,” the 62-year-old widow of four would boast whenever her children would insist she hire some cleaning ladies of her own.

“You have enough on your plate as it is Ma,” they’d say.

Mayor Wu was as stubborn as she was strict, which made her an ideal leader of a city that had just recovered from what seemed to be a never-ending marathon of crime and political corruption. Nevertheless, her children, all grown up and on their own, felt it their duty to see that their mother did not stress herself to death.

With the death of her husband, a bid for re-election next year and the rise of a young and promising opponent, the once go-getter of a mayor- nicknamed The Tigress- was starting to feel the pressure, both physically and mentally.

Her hair, once a silky, jet-black and- when not in a bun- could touch her waist, was now (snip)

The first chapter opens this way:

Could it have had been the one night Chicago Robinson would get more than four hours of sleep?

No.

BRIIIING…BRIIIING…BRIIIING…

He ignored the rather irritating sound and let the cordless phone ring, turning his head from the flashing orange glow of the keypad lights.

For almost 1,000 dollars a month, Chicago didn’t get to enjoy his Downtown apartment much. There was no time to stare outside the window hundreds of feet above the shimmering city and certainly no time to enjoy a glimpse of the beautiful lakefront. He barely had time to sleep; not a healthy lifestyle for the 28-year-old writer.

BRIIIING…

Finally, the last ring. Chicago snuggled his head back into the pillow. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to drift back to sleep. The warm breeze racing past the white curtains would create a symphony with the ocean-like sound of the cars outside and the sporadic creaking and bumping of all the high-rise’s residents. Chicago called it the urban lullaby.

Though, the faint smile this created on his face quickly disappeared.

Nope

What I didn’t include for the introduction was its title, “The Murder.” I figure that it’s the narrative that needs to hook you, and there’s no hint in these opening lines that trouble is coming. Part of the problem is that the page is used to tell us stuff about this person instead of showing us an immediate scene. Without reading more of the manuscript, I can’t tell if all this detail about the victim is necessary, but I kinda doubt it. When she’s dead, she’s most likely gone. What’s missing is the most important part: story.

And what happens in the opening of chapter one? A guy ignores a ringing phone. He does answer the phone, of course, on the next page, and it’s his editor telling him to go to the murder scene at 3 a.m. So what’s the value of narrative about not answering a phone, especially when he does answer it? For this reader, none. Also, no story on this page, either.

Anon E., you might want to visit the post above on “Story as River,” which talks about what readers pick up novels for—story. Your opening pages need to raise story questions, and neither of these did. You’ve some nice writing, so stay with it. . .but give us the story!

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
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.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Gregg—would you turn the page?

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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 or 17 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.

Storytelling Checklist

Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.

Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.

• Tension
• Story questions
• Voice
• Clarity
• Scene setting
• Character
  

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Gregg’s opening lines:

Grandpap was eating breakfast when he made his grand announcement. I was already in a snarly mood as a result of him chewing loudly. It was his favourite, toasted snails, which always makes me irritable. It was not the snails, mind you, but the loud crunching. And the occasional glimpse of a slimy rubbery snail body stuck between his teeth. Plus the annoying sight of the ends of his long white droopy moustache going up and down in unison, keeping time with the crunching, moving like the levers of a water wheel mechanism.

“I have made a decision, Sonny!” He swirled a hand in the air.

“You are going to dole out your treasure to me for safekeeping from the king’s tax collectors?”

“Hardly! Not until you make something of your life.” Grandpap’s voice rose. “I am talking about me. I have decided to do it!” He looked expectantly at me with those glimmering eyes of his.

I sighed. If he wanted to play guessing games, better be done with it. “Do what, Grandpap?”

“Why, to take a wife, of course! You must have wondered why I never married.”

No secret there. The old coot was as loony as a spring hare -- and eccentric to boot. I doubted even the private tent ladies at the summer fair would take his money.

Is voice enough?

For me, what this well-written and entertaining opening lacked was tension, yet the voice promises fun. As a part of what I do, I read on, and found a delightful world packed with good writing and excellent humor (or humour, as Gregg would write). But I never found the story. After Sonny bargains with Grandpap for a fee to help him find a wife (not a tension-filled scene), he’s sent to fetch a bag of stench from a hog farm. While hilariously written, the mission again held no tension, and no story about the apparent protagonist, Sonny.

So, in a way, voice alone did get me to turn the page. However, I voted no after seeing the rest of the chapter because it really wasn’t going anywhere. My advice, Gregg, is to hop over all this world-building and exposition and unleash your humor and voice on the story, on the “what happens” to jolt Sonny out of his snarky life and have to do something to avoid high-stakes jeopardy. A couple of notes on this narrative:

Grandpap was eating breakfast when he made his grand announcement. I was already in a snarly mood as a result of him chewing loudly. It was his favourite, toasted snails, which always makes me irritable. It was not the snails, mind you, but the loud crunching. And the occasional glimpse of a slimy rubbery snail body stuck between his teeth. Plus the annoying sight of the ends of his long white droopy moustache going up and down in unison, keeping time with the crunching, moving like the levers of a water wheel mechanism. (I’d cut a chunk of this because, well, we get it after a while, yet it goes on, stealing from the opening page narrative two lines of story that could be used to hook the reader instead of description. Moreover, the whole paragraph is not tension inducing.)

“I have made a decision, Sonny!” He swirled a hand in the air. (Frankly, you could cut the whole paragraph above and start with this, which at least raises a story question. Add in snails and description along the way, if you must.)

“You are going to dole out your treasure to me for safekeeping from the king’s tax collectors?”

“Hardly! Not until you make something of your life.” Grandpap’s voice rose. “I am talking about me. I have decided to do it!” He looked expectantly at me with those glimmering eyes of his.

I sighed. If he wanted to play guessing games, better be done with it. “Do what, Grandpap?”

“Why, to take a wife, of course! You must have wondered why I never married.” (Playing this guessing game stalls the forward momentum of the narrative. Why not get to it?)

No secret there. The old coot was as loony as a spring hare -- and eccentric to boot. I doubted even the private tent ladies at the summer fair would take his money. (I found more “dithering” such as the guessing game that slowed the pace, but, as noted, never found a story.)

My vote, Gregg, is to keep writing because your narrative is a pleasure (and a hoot) to read, but please exercise it in the telling of a story, not in an expansive though fun stroll through this character’s world.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
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.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey

Introducing NOVEL LIBS

Introducing Novel Libs, a new interactive Flogging the Quill exercise in crafting a compelling opening. You’re invited to flesh out the first 16 lines of the faux novel opening below by adding missing words.

I’ve worked to include the six vital elements of a story on this first page:

• Tension
• Story questions
• Voice
• Clarity
• Scene setting
• Character
  

You can write in one of two veins:

• Just for Fun – make it as hilarious as you can
• For Real – make it as dramatic, imaginative, and compelling as you can
  

Post your version in the comments for this page.

Hey, submit your own Novel Lib!

Join in the writerly fun and email me an attachment with the first 16 lines of a faux novel for the FtQ gang to play with. Here are the requirements:

• Set the formatting when you write your entry to 1-inch margins, single spaced, Times New Roman 12-point type. Double-space between paragraphs, no paragraph indents.
• Include all of the six vital story elements (see above).
• Indicate where writers need to supply words in this way: (verb) (noun) (plural noun) (proper noun) (name) (adjective) (adverb) etc.. I’ll supply the color. No blank lines or spaces.
• Email it to me as an attachment.
• Be sure to include in your email permission to post it on this blog.
• If it’s okay with you, please also include permission to include your submission in a book—this could make a fun compilation. If I want to use it, I will try to contact you first.
  

Here’s the value in creating a Novel Lib for posting here—you are forced to focus on a structure, content and pacing in 16 short lines that will make them compelling enough to get someone to turn the page. The nice part is that you’re not burdened with backstory and all that other knowledge that often bogs down first pages—you’re focused on pure story, plus a little characterization. And what word choice does.

Now see what you can do with Novel Lib No. 1 -- Sasha’s Story

You can use articles as needed—for example, in the first sentence where a verb is called for, I can see that some verbs might need an “at” to make sense with the noun chosen.

Notice how your word choices can make this fantasy, or crime, or whatever.

Note: this story is told in the past tense.

Also note that I just couldn't resist making a past tense verb of the word "verb."

Sasha’s Story

When Sasha verbed her noun, she verbed. She shrank back against a/an noun and hoped that none of the passing plural noun had noticed. She had no doubt—unless she verbed the noun, plural or singular within twenty-four hours, she was verbed to be verbed just like the plural noun on her 1st noun.

She verbed across the dusty noun, ducked into a adjective noun and ordered a noun. Choosing a booth in a dim corner, she 1st verb her 1st noun again and studied the noun there. A tear moistened her eye at the sight of the plural noun on the bodies of plural noun. How could the proper plural noun/name have verbed this to an innocent noun of plural noun?

One thing was clear—she would not let the 1st proper plural noun get away with this. She slipped her hand into her purse and gripped her noun. It was all the weapon she had, but if she didn’t verb the noun, she would be the next one to verbed.

Whispering so none of the other patrons of the noun could hear, she left a voicemail message for her adjective noun. “I may be late tonight—” She paused. She might not live through this. “Well, I just wanted to say I verb you.”

When she slipped out the door, a noun fired across the street and the sign above her head verbed into noun. No time to pull out her noun and verb back -- she raced around the corner, only to find (snip)

How about filling out the poll below?

You can select more than one answer. And comments are welcome.
Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

© 2010 Ray Rhamey

Friday Fun and Flogometer for Marji—would you turn the page?

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Call for submissions I’ll exhaust the current supply of openings in a few days, so submissions for a good flogging are welcome. See the directions below. Thanks.

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This is the final chapter in the free podcast of The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles . You can start the series or subscribe to it here or on iTunes. You can read sample chapters here. You can order a paperback or e-book copy there, too.

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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 or 17 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.

Storytelling Checklist

Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.

Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.

• Tension
• Story questions
• Voice
• Clarity
• Scene setting
• Character
  

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Marji’s opening page:

Quebec 1650

Surrounded by the ocean, a man stands on the deck of a large ship. He wears the long black robe and flat, black, broad-brimmed hat of his Jesuit order. He watches as dolphins arc through the foamy sluices made by the wooden ship, twisting and rolling in its wake. Sea birds ride the air currents, squealing as they dive for fish, which flop from the water as if for their pleasure. The deck hands make busy with lines and square sheets, climbing like monkeys and deck-dancing as the ship is brought about, heading toward the watery mouth of a vast wilderness, its coasts lined with primitive pines shooting up out of aged rock faces.

The black robed missionary scrutinizes the land. He sees past the massive pine forests, imagining lush thickets full of small game and boundless prairies where large herds of deer and elk graze, rivers that teem with fish, their frigid water cascading over and between great boulders and huge cliffs.

Surely, those are demons skulking about on the shoreline, watching the ship pass. No, they are men, with bristles for hair, dyed blood red, or head shaved clean. Their tattooed bodies are draped in furs, bones and teeth hang around their neck and from their ears. The man in the black robe looks up at the heavens, seeking the warmth of the sun and then, hearing the hiss of an arrow in flight, grasps his chest in pain, staring in to a blinding light.

Too distant for me

While introducing what may be an interesting world, I felt I was being “told” all of this, and the distance from the man prevented a connection. While there are flashes of nice writing, there were times we could do with a bit less. Notes:

Quebec 1650

Surrounded by the ocean, a man stands on the deck of a large ship. He wears the long black robe and flat, black, broad-brimmed hat of his Jesuit order. He watches as Dolphins arc through the foamy sluices made by the wooden ship, twisting and rolling in its wake. Sea birds ride the air currents, squealing as they dive for fish, which flop from the water as if for their pleasure. The deck hands make busy with lines and square sheets, climbing like monkeys and deck-dancing as the ship is brought about, heading toward the watery mouth of a vast wilderness, its coasts lined with primitive pines shooting up out of aged rock faces. (There’s no tension in this descriptive passage, and it feels a little overwrought to me. Some nits: “large” is a comparative word, and, without the reader knowing to what it is compared, doesn’t really mean anything. What are “primitive” pines? Are they different from the pine trees of today, which doesn’t seem likely. And I’m not sure how to visualize “the watery mouth of a vast wilderness.” This is an opportunity to engage me with the character through how he reacts to what he sees.)

The black robed missionary scrutinizes the land. He sees past the massive pine forests, imagining lush thickets full of small game and boundless prairies where large herds of deer and elk graze and rivers that teem with fish, their frigid water cascading over and between great boulders and huge cliffs. (If this man is arriving from Europe, how can he imagine these things which don’t really exist where he’s coming from?)

Surely, those are demons skulking about on the shoreline, watching the ship pass. No, they are men, with bristles for hair, dyed blood red, or heads shaved clean. Their tattooed bodies are draped in furs, bones and teeth hang around their neck and from their ears. The man in the black robe looks up at the heavens, seeking the warmth of the sun and then, hearing the hiss of an arrow in flight, grasps his chest in pain, staring in to into a blinding light. (How can he see such detail from a ship that has to be a pretty good distance from the shore? While a gripping moment, the concluding sentence seems more like an end than a beginning—and it is, because this opening is a dream. Next is a flashback to a boy waking from the dream, then some exposition, and then a “present” time of an established settlement in Quebec.)

Opening with a dream in this way usually results in a bit of a rug-pull for the reader, who is thinking that this is the story and it turns out it’s not. I think you need to start where something happens to this priest that affects his life immediately, that causes him to take action.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
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.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey

What form rejection means to writers

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The video below is my entry into The Rejectionist’s essay contest on what form rejection means to me. Enjoy. © 2010 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Pauline—would you turn the page?

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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 or 17 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.

Storytelling Checklist

Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.

Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.

• Tension
• Story questions
• Voice
• Clarity
• Scene setting
• Character
  

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Pauline has sent a prologue and first chapter. This is the entire prologue:

The electricity hums through her fingers and up her arms until her teeth clench and eyeballs rattle. Laura blacks out and wakes feeling weak. The sin might not be completely out just yet though. It might take a few tries.

Oh God. Oh Richard. I don’t know how to stop this. Dear Lord, please help me! Please! I’ll do anything, I swear. Just...not Hayley, please not my baby!

Laura scrubs at the black marks on the wall where the toaster plugs in. She blew a fuse too so now Richard’s going to have to fix it. She’d done her best to recreate the therapy she’d learned about at the library this morning. The fact that this could fix her gives her hope.

The first chapter opens this way:

Laura nods as Jenny pulls out her mother’s wedding dress from the dress up trunk. Playing house is her very favorite. They’d been playing it all summer. Laura never minds being the daddy because this means she gets to give Jenny a good night kiss.

‘Oh daddy, baby Christopher’s cryin’ again. You go and get him this time. I got to put my feet up.’

Laura goes over to the playpen. They get to have a real baby when they play at Jenny’s house because they look after her brother while her mama is doing her nails on the porch. Christopher doesn’t like it when they put doll clothes on him. Laura figures it’s because he doesn’t like wearing dresses. She doesn’t like dresses either. She struggles to lift him up but manages to lug him over to where Jenny’s sitting on the couch with her feet on the trunk.

‘Here, you take him. I’m gonna read the paper.’ She takes the coloring books and flips through the pages just like she’s seen her daddy do with the Saturday newspaper. Sitting up extra straight, she brushes her long, sandy blonde hair from her face and wishes her mother had put it in a ponytail for her.

It’s too hot to play outside. Summers were hot back in Iowa too but it’s different here in Texas.

Almost, and no

The prologue made me want more of that story, but then it ended, which was frustrating. The first chapter is a trip back in time to the protagonist’s childhood when she is first called a sinner because of her feelings and actions toward girls. In other words, backstory. Is it necessary? In most cases, probably not. This prologue seems like an attempt to hook the reader enough to then go through the history. Not a good idea.

Readers want to know what’s happening in the NOW of a story, not the THEN. If I were Pauline, I’d keep going with whatever it is that happens next in what was the prologue. The childhood stuff doesn’t really matter to the adult who is trying to shock her sinfulness out of her body.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
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.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Stella—would you turn the page?

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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 or 17 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.

Storytelling Checklist

Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.

Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.

• Tension
• Story questions
• Voice
• Clarity
• Scene setting
• Character
  

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Stella’s opening lines:

Spare time was a mortal sin to be avoided at all costs. I was even running errands for old Mrs. Beaton next door to keep busy. Keeping busy meant keeping my sanity.

I grabbed my backpack off the floor, tossed in a water bottle and a clean towel. The rigged apartment door slammed shut behind me. I glanced at my watch. If I ran the whole way I could still make it.

I took the stairs two at a time, running out the main entrance. I held the door open for little Mrs. Beaton as she entered. The ‘little’ part only referred to her height not her waistline. Time had shrunken her vertically, but had stashed the extra inches in her horizontally. This only made her more endearing.

Wrinkles creased her eyes as she smiled at me. “Thank you, Mia.” She said in her timorous voice. “But eat something, you’re wasting away. How are you going to find a man? You’re too skinny!” She waved a plump hand at me.

Finding a man was the last thing on my mind, but it was always on Mrs. Beaton’s. I’d spent the better part of four years around a flock of sex-deprived Marines. Thinking of men was like a day in the sun with a Drill Instructor, painful.

I ran up the hills of San Francisco following the direction of my morning jogs. What still (snip)

There’s great stuff ahead, but…

I really liked the voice and the writing in this chapter, but the opening here didn’t compel me into a page turn. There’s a hint of a story question in the first paragraph, but that’s not followed up on. Then the narrative seems to focus on getting a man, which makes it seem like a romance novel. From what I read in the rest of the submission, it’s not, at all.

For several pages more, high-quality writing laid out backstory and other exposition, plus internal monologue, that characterized this person and let us know where she’s coming from. But still no real tension. In other words, well-done throat-clearing.

A lot of that material could be filled in later, after the encounter that leads to a big change in the character’s life. Instead of this opening, I suggest that Stella consider the following, which comes from later in the chapter, instead.

I was almost at the dojo when a cry and flash of movement in an alley caught my eye. I ran into the entrance of the alley to see three guys kicking something on the ground.

I was going to be really late.

The one in the hoodie said, “Hey, check out the thing in his hand.”

The man on the ground pleaded. “Please! Don’t hurt me!” The three men kicked him again.

One of them wrenched the object from the man’s hand. “Hey I think it’s an MP3 player.”

His body snapped back with the impact of my kick. His head flew backward over his feet. The backside of his melon thumped against the concrete, he laid still.

One of them yelled, “Bitch!” The other rushed me. He swung at my head.

I dodged out of his way and grabbed his wrist, pulling his shoulder over mine. Using his own momentum I sent him flying. He fell to the concrete with a thud and screamed, a broken tailbone perhaps.

Karma’s a bitch.

The last of the Three Stooges pulled out a knife.

“Come on, baby. We don’t need to fight when we can have some fun.” He leered.

“It’s hard to believe you beat a hundred thousand other sperm.” I pulled my pack off and dropped it. “Get lost.”

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
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.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey

Friday Fun and Flogometer for Bill & Dan—would you turn the page?

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You can start the The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles podcast series or subscribe to it here or on iTunes. You can read sample chapters here. You can order a paperback or e-book copy there, too.

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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 or 17 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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Their opening lines:

“The boy must return with me this time. There is to be no more stalling.”

The Deacon was a sight to behold. He sat drinking what Father could offer as tea without complaint. The green of his robe shimmered in the windows’ dull light. I had seen satin before, Mother even had a small square of it she was sewing into the bodice of my sister’s wedding dress, but an entire robe of it was more than I could believe. The writings on its hems, some ancient language known only to the scholars, reflected the light even more with their gold and silver threadwork.

That Father had windows at all showed him to be one of the richest men in the valley. He was highly respected in the area, and smart enough to know he would be considered a backwater oaf if he tried to pretend some sort of culture to the Deacon. Instead he offered the Deacon his tea in the best cups we had without apologies for the quality of either the tea or the cup. Mother tabled a loaf of our best bread with a knife and the honeyed butter we had been saving for the upcoming holiday.

Father looked the Deacon in the eyes, “I need him for the planting. And, his sister marries in only a week; surely he can stay for the festivities.”

The Deacon tore a chunk of bread, lathered a generous portion of the spread, and chewed it with a small smile. He responded quietly, “No, last time I came it was for the harvest and the (snip)

I wished it were compelling

The writing in the two chapters sent was well done, clean and crisp, and the story and world interesting. I know that because, as a matter of course, I read ahead. But, as nicely done as this opening page was, I didn’t think it reached the level of compelling. The tension created by the opening line is attenuated by the amount of description of the deacon and the family.

So I looked ahead to see if there was a segment that raised enough in the way of story questions to create a page-turn. Here, lifted from later in the pages and wedded to the first line, is narrative that has tension and, for me, raised story questions. See what you think, and then vote.

The Deacon said, “The boy must return with me this time. There is to be no more stalling.”

I watched from my perch on the loft, knowing that my fate was being decided and my opinion was not needed. I could see the lines in Father’s brow deepen and I could hear the catch in Mother’s breath as she pretended to busy herself at the hearth. The Deacon sat calm but affected. I could tell he wasn’t enjoying this conversation. I could also tell he wasn’t leaving without me.

Father pleaded, “It’s not right, it’s not right to take a man’s only son. I have four daughters, but only one son to leave the farm to when I pass. Now some other man’s son will keep my pigs and reap my grain. Some other man’s name will grace the gate to our home. Marl’s Bells, Frederick, is there nothing you can do?”

“Even if I had the power, what you ask is too much. The boy is the strongest ever seen in this valley. It was obvious to me that you were drugging his powers away, and still his blessing calls brighter than any I have ever seen. He could rival the Ambrose one day.

“Besides, you said yourself that your best sow has come sick. His powers must be focused. Left to their own, they will poison the world around him. There is a reason they used to burn the blessed before the Pinnacles were wrought. Would you hold the boy close to your breast only to have him cause the destruction of anything he has ever held dear?”

Really nice stuff, guys, keep at it. I suggest that you consider dropping this opening chapter, look at opening with your chapter two, and introducing this character in the following chapter with, hopefully, the tension of his being thrust unwillingly into a new world. Either that or find a way to increase the jeopardy and stakes for him in this chapter.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
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.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for John—would you turn the page?

Update I've a post up on Writer Unboxed about rejection.

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How about a fun beach read?

It’s summertime, and a good beach/park/lazy day read is a good thing to have handy. In that vein, here are quotes from reader reviews of my The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles. It's available on Amazon.com:

“This book is full of wry humor, and yet somehow strangely believable. I would highly recommend it, even -- in fact, especially -- to people who would otherwise pass it up because they have no interest in the subject.”

“Not a vampire fan, not a cat lover, but I was thoroughly entertained by this novel. I read it in about 3 sittings stolen from a hectic schedule. Most novels I read do not catch hold of me that well. I recommend it.”

“There were many times when this book made me laugh out loud, and let me tell you, very few books can manage that.”

Just sayin’ …

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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 or 17 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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John’s opening lines:

The second punch was faster than the first. I hunched my left shoulder and his fist struck the deltoid muscle instead of my face. In my adrenalized state, I felt nothing.

Still crouching, I fired two quick jabs at his midsection. He deflected them both. I kept my hands up and stepped forward. He stepped back, his posture matching mine. The darkness of the park around us made details harder to see but the ambient yellow streetlights silhouetted him well enough.

His feet shoulder-width apart, he danced forward like a boxer and again shot two quick punches, and then two more, at my head. I kept my arms up, my head down, and blocked with my forearms. I feinted a jab with my shoulders. He skipped back a step, then shuffled towards me with a long right hook towards my head.

For that brief moment, moving forward with his right arm extended, his center of gravity was over the ground in front of him instead of between his feet. My arms still up, I slid forward inside the punch, snap-rolled my left wrist over his, grabbed his sleeve, and pulled hard. His arm continued across his body, hauling him off balance. I snapped my hips to the left and blasted both of my arms down. The move took him off his feet and he slammed into the ground. His head bounced once on the hard earth but he scrambled forward on his hands and feet before I could land on him. I took a quick step after him but he managed to grab a fallen branch and (snip)

Nope

You would think that opening with a fight, which is both conflict and action, would be a page-turner, but, for me, this micro-detail quickly killed my interest. Visualizing movement to this extent adds up to overwriting, a sure pace-clogger. Of much more interest is who is fighting, why they are fighting, the stakes for the winner and loser, and some reason to care who wins or loses.

More than that, we’re a page away from a paranormal element—the use of halos in the fight—that creates interest and starts to set this world apart. I’ll make some notes on this narrative but, for my money, It should all be deleted to get to the more interesting stuff on page two:

The second punch was faster than the first. I hunched my left shoulder and his my attacker’s fist struck the deltoid muscle instead of my face. In my adrenalized state, I felt nothing. (In the middle of a fight, would you be thinking about your “adrenalized state”? Neither would I. Or the fact that his fist hit my deltoid muscle? Not me. I’d change the last two sentences to something like I blocked it with my shoulder. Adding something like “attacker” helps the reader take sides.)

Still crouching, I fired two quick jabs at his midsection. He deflected them both. I kept my hands up and stepped forward. He stepped back, his posture matching mine. The darkness of the park around us made details harder to see but the ambient yellow streetlights silhouetted him well enough. (The light from the streetlights would be ambient, not the streetlights themselves. If it remains a good idea to open with punching. I’d combine what I’ve left of this paragraph with the first, but then it would be time to get into who, why, etc.)

His feet shoulder-width apart, he danced forward like a boxer and again shot two quick punches, and then two more, at my head. I kept my arms up, my head down, and blocked with my forearms. I feinted a jab with my shoulders. He skipped back a step, then shuffled towards me with a long right hook towards my head. (I just wouldn’t include all this.)

For that brief moment, moving forward with his right arm extended, his center of gravity was over the ground in front of him instead of between his feet. My arms still up, I slid forward inside the punch, snap-rolled my left wrist over his, grabbed his sleeve, and pulled hard. His arm continued across his body, hauling him off balance. I snapped my hips to the left and blasted both of my arms down. The move took him off his feet and he slammed into the ground. His head bounced once on the hard earth but he scrambled forward on his hands and feet before I could land on him. I took a quick step after him but he managed to grab a fallen branch and (snip) (Understanding that, by now, as a reader I would have put this book down, the description stopped giving me images when he “blasted” both of his arms down after snapping his hips to the left. Down on what? And how could that take the guy off his feet? I’d look at condensing this action down to something like I slammed him on the ground with a hip throw.

The excessive detail continues on the next page. Here’s an excerpt:

I sprang forward and landed on him while his torso was twisted to his left. My right hand clamped around his right wrist, trapping the branch. My left fist drilled into the hollow below his sternum. (It is hardly important which hand did what, nor that the guy’s torso was twisted to the left. And I’ll bet there are readers who don’t know what a sternum is. And what does “drilling” into the hollow beneath it actually mean? This could be rewritten as: I pinned one hand to the ground and punched him in the belly.)

You’ve got good stuff coming, John, but need to get it up front, not smothered by details that don’t really matter to story or characterization. Keep action quick and simple, with clear, brief descriptions that readers can easily see.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
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.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Liz—would you turn the page?

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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 or 17 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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Liz has sent a revision of a prologue/first chapter critiqued here a while back:

With a smack, another wet drop slapped his face. Chax grimaced, shivered, and shifted as far as his bonds would allow. Suspended by his hands from a thick beam, the ache of hanging from his weight throbbed through every muscle.

The exception were his wings. They had been stretched out in full spread, the talon-like dewclaws lashed to metal rings on either side of him. Chax had given up imagining what purpose the rings had originally had after the third day; it only made him nauseated.

Holding that type of position for very long, with the membrane stretched as tight as a tympani left his muscles cramping. The maroon span had fascinated his captors. They had quickly found the right touch on his wings could make him weep in pain, or moan in pleasure. Bad combination either way.

The bottom left fringe had started to rip. If it tore deep enough, he would probably shift into an early Cycle. Chax shuddered. An Altered in mid-Cycle, away from a lair, might as well impale himself on a revlis dagger, before the humans did it for him.

The whisper of footsteps in the corridor made him groan. They were coming back. Why did he let himself get talked into these things?

The footsteps were louder. Chax scowled. His captors shuffled as they walked, limp wings scraping on stone. It set his teeth on edge. It was probably time for another dose of cinsra.

And the first chapter opens this way:

Azrael stiffened at footsteps behind him.

"Gethon.” The Elder that had been lecturing him sighed, the edge of his mouth twisting into a scowl. “I suppose it’s time?”

Azrael glanced between the two powerful Altered, but remained silent. Only the Uni himself outranked Gethon. Close-cropped brown hair edged a plain face, enlivened by the energy gleaming in his eyes. He shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry, Gyas but I need to speak with him.”

The lower Elder retreated, but not without a curt reminder to Azrael. "You should remember what I spoke of, Youngling," he snapped. "I'll be expecting you to."

Azrael clenched his teeth, but held his anger. A Youngling had never experienced his first Cycle. He, as the Altered well knew, had shed his wings at least twenty times, adding size to his span and strength to his abilities.

When he had moved out of earshot, Azrael turned to face Gethon. "Is something wrong? Is Lethe -- "

"The Uni is fine, fine as can be expected,” Gethon said, mildly correcting him.

"Then, what's wrong? You've never dismissed Gyas before."

He raked a hand through his hair. Azrael knew the gesture well. The Elder was trying to pick his words carefully. "Chax...your friend. He's missing."

Yes for the prologue, the chapter opening works better too

I’m wondering why the first piece is a prologue instead of a different point of view that opens the first chapter? They seem to be contiguous in time. With an appropriate break signaling a change in POV, that might work. I do it in my novels, cluing in the reader on the shift with a line that has three centered asterisks in it.

I think the revised prologue is much clearer compared to the old. The writing is crisper, too. The chapter opening also cuts to the chase with less world-building, and is more likely to get a page turn. Good work. Some brief notes:

With a smack, another wet drop slapped his face. Chax grimaced, shivered and shifted as far as his bonds would allow. Suspended by his hands from a thick beam, the ache of hanging from his weight throbbed through every muscle. (About those smacking drops of water: if they’re hitting his face, doesn’t his face have to be tilted back? But he’s suspended by his hands above his head and against a wall, and it seems like a path for the drops would be hard to find. Are they hitting his forehead, maybe?)

The exception were was his wings. They had been stretched out in full spread, the talon-like dewclaws lashed to metal rings on either side of him. Chax had given up imagining what purpose the rings had originally had after the third day; it only made him nauseated.

Holding that type of position for very long, with the membrane stretched as tight as a tympani left his muscles cramping. The maroon span had fascinated his captors. They had quickly found the right touch on his wings could make him weep in pain, or moan in pleasure. Bad combination either way. (I cut the first line because muscle pain has already been mentioned. Not needed.)

The bottom left fringe had started to rip. If it tore deep enough, he would probably shift into an early Cycle. Chax shuddered. An Altered in mid-Cycle, away from a lair, might as well impale himself on a revlis dagger, before the humans did it for him.

The whisper of footsteps in the corridor made him groan. They were coming back. Why did he let himself get talked into these things? (Nice hint of backstory to tease.)

The footsteps were louder. Chax scowled. His captors shuffled as they walked, limp wings scraping on stone. It set his teeth on edge. It was probably time for another dose of cinsra. (Didn’t figure that was needed. Keep the pace up.)

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Azrael stiffened at footsteps behind him.

"Gethon.” The Elder that had been lecturing him sighed, the edge of his mouth twisting into a scowl. “I suppose it’s time?” (Here the word “lecturing” could mean a form of scolding instead of teaching. Is that what you intend? If not, then it’s not clear enough.)

Azrael glanced between the two powerful Altered, but remained silent. Only the Uni himself outranked Gethon. Close-cropped brown hair edged a plain face, enlivened by the energy gleaming in his eyes. He shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry, Gyas but I need to speak with him.” (The attribution “He” feels like it refers to Azrael, but you mean Gethon. I’d separate this into two paragraphs and change the pronoun to a name, maybe do a little rearranging, too.)

The lower Elder retreated, but not without a curt reminder to Azrael. "You should remember what I spoke of, Youngling," he snapped. "I'll be expecting you to." (“snapped” lets the reader know he was curt.)

Azrael clenched his teeth, but held his anger. A Youngling had never experienced his first Cycle. He, as the Altered well knew, had shed his wings at least twenty times, adding size to his span and strength to his abilities.

When he had moved out of earshot, Azrael turned to face Gethon. "Is something wrong? Is Lethe -- "

"The Uni is fine, fine as can be expected,” Gethon said, mildly correcting him.

"Then what's wrong? You've never dismissed Gyas before."

He Gethon raked a hand through his hair. Azrael knew the gesture well. The Elder was trying to pick his words carefully. "It’s Chax...your friend. He's missing."

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

---

Submitting to the Flogometer:

1. 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.
2. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
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.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey