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
Christopher’s opening page
I rooted around in the center drawer of my desk, pushing aside a notice from the IRS and a two-year-old birthday card from my wife and son. The stress headache was pounding its way through my skull, and I was looking for some quick over-the-counter pain relief that would solve my problem.
After choking down three Advil capsules, I checked my watch. It was 11:14. The appointment had been for eleven. Good, maybe he wasn’t coming.
Leaning forward, I ran my hand across the lustrous surface of the desk. It was a monstrous seventy-inch long twin-pedestal built in the 1870s by Hobbs & Co. What could I get for it in cash? Probably not much. Always two prices for antiques. A buying price and a selling price, like almost everything else in life.
Rubbing my left temple with my forefinger, I wondered when the damned Advil would kick in. Monday morning and the week already down the crapper, thanks to the esteemed judge of the 639th Judicial District Court. He’d signed a judgment against one of my clients in a suit on a promissory note. The client owned a gift shop and figuring you could never make a wrong bet when it came to Christmas cheer, she’d borrowed thirty grand to stock up on knick knacks for the all-important Christmas buying season. It turned out to be a bad year for fake gingerbread houses and glass unicorns. Now she was on the wrong end of a big-ass judgment. The thirty (snip)
Didn’t sweep me forward
While I think Christopher is working to characterize this person and set the scene, the result is a fairly tension-free page of what’s called “throat clearing” seasoned with overwriting. It stopped me from getting to a pretty good scene that followed. The nature of his desk isn’t relevant to the story. Nor is, it turns out, the judgment against the client. If we knew his headache was caused by having to face the person who was late, there might have been enough bridging tension to get us there, but we don’t know that. I think there was a much better place to start. It comes at the end of the chapter. I’ll show you that in a minute. Notes:
I rooted around in the center drawer of my desk
, pushing aside a notice from the IRS and a two-year-old birthday card from my wife and son. The stress headache was pounding its way through my skull, and I was looking for my Advil.some quick over-the-counter pain relief that would solve my problem.(Surely someone stressed out and in pain wouldn’t be thinking about “over-the-counter pain relief” when he knows he has Advil in the drawer. This was the second sign of overwriting—extreme detail that does not advance plot or characterization. Why explain the nature of a common brand? Why the IRS notice and the old birthday card—the first example of overwriting? Their relevance to the story?)
After choking down three Advil capsules, I checked my watch.It was 11:14. The appointment had been for eleven. Good, maybe he wasn’t coming. (Actually, this could have been a good opening line. It raises a story question right away.)
Leaning forward, I ran my hand across the lustrous surface of the desk. It was a monstrous seventy-inch long twin-pedestal built in the 1870s by Hobbs & Co. What could I get for it in cash? Probably not much. Always two prices for antiques. A buying price and a selling price, like almost everything else in life.(On the first page, where you absolutely need to hook the reader, there’s no time for a side trip on the history and worth of a desk unless it’s extremely relevant to the story that should be developing. It wasn’t.)
Rubbing my left temple with my forefinger, I wondered when the damned Advil would kick in.Monday morning and the week already down the crapper, thanks to the esteemed judge of the 639th Judicial District Court. He’d signed a judgment against one of my clients in a suit on a promissory note. The client owned a gift shop and figuring you could never make a wrong bet when it came to Christmas cheer, she’d borrowed thirty grand to stock up on knick knacks for the all-important Christmas buying season. It turned out to be a bad year for fake gingerbread houses and glass unicorns. Now she was on the wrong end of a big-ass judgment. The thirty (snip) (The phrase “Rubbing my temple with my left forefinger” is a clear example of overwriting. Then we slip into backstory about a client, and it’s backstory that doesn’t relate to the problem he’s about to encounter.)
I’ve taken bits and pieces from later in the chapter to see if there’s a stronger way to get us into the scene. The last line here is the last line of the chapter, and I think it belongs right up front. It tells you much of what the story is about (I think).
Tyrell gave me the thousand-yard, ex-con, don’t–fuck with-me stare I’d seen from many of my clients. He was much bigger than the scrawny twenty-two-year-old I remembered. His neck was thick and sinewy, and his chest strained at the fabric of his shirt.
I told him, “I gave you the best defense possible. You need to understand that and just get on with your life.”
His eyes narrowed. “If it was such a good defense, why did an innocent man spend eighteen years in prison?”
With something like these 7 lines as the opening, you have 9 more lines to provoke the reader into a page turn.
What do you think? Comments, please.
For what it’s worth.
Ray
Submitting to the Flogometer:
Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred):
- your title
- your 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
- 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