Flogometer for Brian—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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Brian has sent the prologue and opening chapter of PsiFinder: Relics . The prologue opens this way:

AMSTERDAM, 1808

Georg Huttmacher looked anxiously over his shoulder, for the twentieth time in the past hour. He knew they were there, somewhere. He could literally feel them in his head.

He hugged the strange stone against his chest, under a ragged cloak he had gotten from a beggar in exchange for his own, and tried to hunch farther into the shadows near the wharf. From his vantage, he could easily watch the comings and goings of foot traffic in the area, as well as keep an eye on the galleons in port most likely to be of use to him.

Once I get on a ship, maybe I’ll feel safe. Maybe I’ll be able to relax during the crossing. He wasn’t really sure why the New World seemed such a hopeful place; perhaps it was just that Europe had become so treacherous, so dangerous, since a wild impulse led him to steal the stone now hidden under his filthy garment. Nor was he sure where the impulse to steal the artifact had come from. By all that is Holy, I’m an academic, not a thief! I write about the wonders of the world. I don’t need to own the history, not even this little piece of it.

Except that he’d touched the damned thing.

They’d told him not to, of course. Gerd Mendel, the Keeper of the Stone he’d worked with most closely, had explained that the power of the stone -- The Stone, Mendel always emphasized it -- could cause a person to change, to hallucinate...to lose their mind, from the merest touch. Not (snip)

The first chapter start:

I breezed down the street with a bounce in my step, my pocket holding a delightfully large check that I had earned with about five minutes of work. As I pushed through the door into the First National my mood was good, business was good, and the weather gods had blessed us with a particularly fine spring day. So when the nutcase burst into the bank waving a gun, my first thought -- right before “aw, crap” -- was that the guy was dressed really odd for a bank robber.

“Everybody down on the floor!” the gunman roared, sounding drunk. “I don’t wanna hurt nobody. I just need the money.” Great, drink your way to success. I flattened myself to the floor and set my Psionic senses to assess the situation. There was desperation in the gunman, a stinging counterpoint to the screaming fear I sensed from nearly everyone else there in the bank. Nearly everyone -- I did sense that one of the rent-a-cops in the lobby was getting an itchy hero finger as he thought about his gun. Yeah, that made me feel safer. I tuned out the drunken thief’s shouting and shivered for a moment. How the hell had a good day gone so bad, so fast?

“Heading for the bank, Bill,” I’d called out a few minutes earlier as I shrugged into my jacket and glanced at the clock on my office wall.

“Bring me back some samples, Tee,” Bill called back. “Tee” is me, Christina Amies -- at least to my partner, Bill Lemly. To anyone else I’m Ms. Amies, or Christina if I’m in a good (snip)

Thoughts and brief notes

I voted yes to both prologue and first chapter on the strength of the story questions raised by the narrative, but there were smallish craft issues. The writing is good, but there’s exposition in both that becomes a little “tellish” for me. And a clarity issue in the first paragraph of the prologue:

Georg Huttmacher looked anxiously over his shoulder for the twentieth time in the past hour. He knew they were there, somewhere. He could literally feel them in his head. (Clarity issue: who or what is “they?” With no clue, the reader has no idea as to whether “they” is a danger or merely a nuisance or what.)

There’s a similar lack of what’s happening in the first paragraph of the chapter:

I breezed down the street with a bounce in my step, my pocket holding a delightfully large check that I had earned with about five minutes of work. As I pushed through the door into the First National my mood was good, business was good, and the weather gods had blessed us with a particularly fine spring day. So when the nutcase burst into the bank waving a gun, my first thought -- right before “aw, crap” -- was that the guy was dressed really odd for a bank robber. (Narrative issue: we’re told that the guy is “dressed really odd for a bank robber,” but not shown how he is dressed. What caused the character to think that? I should mention that toward the last of the chapter’s opening page we slip into backstory, and I’d advise against that. Stay with the robber and the action.)

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred):

1. your title
2. your 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
3. Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
4. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
5. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
6. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
7. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

© 2010 Ray Rhamey