Update Oops, completely spaced this morning's post. Will put up a new flogging tonight or Sat AM.
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
- Tension
- Story questions
- Voice
- Clarity
- Scene setting
- Character
Jennfer’s first chapter of Imagine That opens this way:
They’re fighting again. I can hear them from my room, even though they’re all the way downstairs in the kitchen, trying to keep their voices low. I can’t make out exactly what they’re saying, but it doesn’t matter; I know what they’re arguing about. It’s always the same thing.
A cupboard door slams. I get out of bed to turn on my stereo.
“Mallory?” Baxter pushes open my door. He’s wearing Spiderman pajamas that are way too tight on him and his hair is sticking up everywhere. He’s rubbing his eyes with his fists, the way he used to do when he was really little. I nod and he climbs into my bed, pulling the covers up so high only the top of his head is visible.
I put on my West Side Story CD and flick through the songs until I reach Tonight. My mother’s voice fills the room. “Only you, you’re the only thing I’ll see forever,” she sings. Once, a long time ago, she was a pretty successful stage actress, but she gave it all up to marry my father. “In my eyes, in my words and in everything I do. Nothing else but you. Ever.”
I guess I have to give my parents some credit for trying to put our family back together. But it’s kind of like trying to fix a snag in your favorite sweater; pull the wrong thread and the whole thing will unravel, right before your eyes.
* * *“Oh my god, what is up with your hair?” Claudia Cantone says. She’s standing right outside the (snip)
I passed
There’s a likeable voice here, and some good writing. But, for me, not much in the way of tension, and not much happening. Two kids try to avoid listening to a parental argument, but there’s no hint of danger or violence; it seems like an ordinary thing to them. Then we cut to a school and encounter the not-so-riveting question about a hairdo. In other words, things are pretty ordinary.
While, as Robert McKee advocates in Story, it is the upsetting of a character’s life that provides the inciting incident of a story and the reader needs an idea of what that life is first, this chapter is all life-as-usual. Jennifer, I think this is what some call “throat clearing,” and you need to start your story later. Notes:
They’re fighting again. I can hear them from my room, even though they’re all the way downstairs in the kitchen, trying to keep their voices low. I can’t make out exactly what they’re saying, but it doesn’t matter; I know what they’re arguing about. It’s always the same thing. I cut the first line because it’s “telling,” and the rest of the paragraph shows us that they are fighting. However, this opening lacks impact because the narrative doesn’t let the reader know what the character knows—what they’re fighting about. Why withhold? Is it something to do with the story? Basically, the last couple of sentences contribute nothing other than this is “as usual,” and that’s not compelling.
A cupboard door slams. I get out of bed to turn on my stereo.
“Mallory?” Baxter pushes open my door. He’s wearing wears Spiderman pajamas that are way too tight on him and his hair is sticking sticks up everywhere. He’s rubbing rubs his eyes with his fists, the way he used to do when he was really little. I nod and he climbs into my bed, pulling the covers up so high only the top of his head is visible. Jennifer has a fondness for the “to be” verb and participles. In my view, they lack the crispness of simple present or past tense.
I put on my West Side Story CD and flick through the songs until I reach Tonight. My mother’s voice fills the room. “Only you, you’re the only thing I’ll see forever,” she sings. Once, a long time ago, she was a pretty successful stage actress, but she gave it all up to marry my father. “In my eyes, in my words and in everything I do. Nothing else but you. Ever.” I don’t think the first page, where you’re trying to hook the reader, is a good time for backstory.
I guess I have to give my parents some credit for trying to put our family back together. But it’s kind of like trying to fix a snag in your favorite sweater; pull the wrong thread and the whole thing will unravel, right before your eyes. This hints at story, but then we immediately leave this for the school. If the story is not about the marriage unraveling, why are we having this scene? If it is, then why not stay with it so we can learn the consequences that will trouble the character and see her resolve to do something about it that causes story questions to arise.
* * *“Oh my god, what is up with your hair?” Claudia Cantone says. She’s standing right outside the (snip)
There’s plenty of good writing, Jennifer—I particularly liked your character describing her figure as “built like an ironing board,” but little in the way of story. You introduce a couple of characters, but nothing happens that promises trouble ahead for Mallory. Find that place and try starting there.
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