Flogometer for Liz—would you turn the page?

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Interesting Writer’s Digest article on writing the genders here.

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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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Liz’s opening page of Changeling Project, a sequel to a previous submission

Pulling his hand away from the wall, Azrael took one unsteady step, and then another down the narrow alley. His body ached with bruises he did not remember receiving, and his legs wobbled with unfamiliar weakness. Shards of glass crunched beneath his feet with the snow. A lean cat darted from a broken-down dumpster. The smell of cheap beer and rotting vegetables wafted from inside. At the end of the alley, a street slashed across the pale snow. He felt much too fragile to dare that just yet.

Snow gilded the billboards and streetlights with a soft halo. The simple purity of the scene was completely unfamiliar to him, but he liked it just the same.

A lone snowflake brushed against his nose. He shoved his chilled hands into his pockets. The move was natural, but caught him by surprise. He was wearing a pullover shirt, frayed jeans, and scuffed tennis shoes -- not the correct clothing for winter. That much he knew.

If he knew that now, why had he dressed this way? The thought was puzzling. When he tried to concentrate on the morning, his head hurt.

The setting sun washed the horizon in purple dye. At the edge of the sky, neon stars twinkled and gleamed. He strolled in that direction. Maybe there he could find answers.

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Eric Lunday made it a point to know everybody. As the owner of a small general store, it helped (snip)

I turned the page, but almost didn’t

The story questions had me going—I wanted to know what had happened to Azrael. The writing is good and the voice confident. But the shift in pov almost lost me only because I wasn’t ready to leave that of the character that opened the story. I wanted more of him, and here Liz was darting away.

As it turned out, the new pov is where Azrael goes for answers—it’s in a store. I think the gap between “neon stars” twinkling at the edge of the sky and the mundane “general store” was too great, and I did not think of them as being the same. So a little more clarity in the “setting sun” paragraph instead of colorful language would have helped me. Notes:

Pulling his hand away from the wall, Azrael took one unsteady step, and then another down the narrow alley. His body He ached with bruises he did not remember receiving, and his legs wobbled with unfamiliar weakness. Shards of glass crunched beneath his feet with the snow. A lean cat darted from a broken-down dumpster. The smell of cheap beer and rotting vegetables wafted from inside. At the end of the alley, a street slashed across the pale snow. He felt much too fragile to dare that just yet.

Falling snow gilded the billboards and streetlights with a soft halo. The simple purity of the scene was completely unfamiliar to him, but he liked it just the same. (I’m not convinced that “gilded” is the right word here if we’re talking about the appearance of a halo. Gilded seems to be more of something on something, not a shape in the air surrounding something. How about something like Falling snow haloed the billboards and streetlights.)

A lone snowflake brushed against his nose. He shoved his chilled hands into his pockets. The move was natural, but caught him by surprise. He was wearing wore a pullover shirt, frayed jeans, and scuffed tennis shoes -- not the correct clothing for winter. That much he knew. (Good mystery and story questions in this paragraph.)

If he knew that now, why had he dressed this way? The thought was puzzling. When he tried to concentrate on the morning, his head hurt.

The setting sun washed the horizon in purple dye. At the edge of the sky, neon stars twinkled and gleamed. He strolled in that direction. Maybe there he could find answers. (As mentioned, the colorful description here gave me no idea that he was heading for a building. I’d also look for a verb different than ‘strolled’ that continues to give the picture of someone who is unsteady and possibly injured.)

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Eric Lunday made it a point to know everybody. As the owner of a small general store, it helped (snip) (I think this would be more likely to keep me reading if something in the opening of the change related to the first section. For example: Erick Lunday looked up from sweeping when the bell over the door clanged and a cold-looking skinny guy limped in.

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