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.
Liz’s first chapter for Desert Blood , a fantasy romance, opens with a quote, and she asked if that would be included in the usual 16-17 lines. I guess so, but you can format your manuscript pages any way you want to, so it’s not impossible. I included the quote and the normal amount of lines. You tell us whether or not the quote adds.
...that the heirs shall be born of seed royal, but of common stock, guarded and trained by men of renowned loyalty...
-~-Sixty-third Tenet; Book of the Council
Athelia fought the tears threatening to break free. She rested a hand on her belly. The bulge would not show for another month. At least one piece of Endry remained to her.
She glanced up at her lover as he nudged his horse closer. The Fay-el of all the Mara watched her with an impassive expression. How could he be so calm when her heart was shattering in her chest?
Endry shook his head as tears drew wet trails through the sand on her cheeks. “You knew it would come.”
Athelia dropped her gaze to the ground. “Aye. But why must it be so? Why can’t you stay with me?”
“The child must grow among the people, before he can rule over the people.”
“Do not quote maxims at me!” she threw her head high, “My heart is breaking and you spout dry text?”
He sighed. “Do you believe me immune to your pain? I feel it as you do. But it is what must be.”
Athelia laid her hand on his stallion’s flank. “Please.” She dropped her head, whispering, “Don’t leave me.”
She heard the saddle creak as he leaned down. Warm breath tickled the top of her head. He brushed his lips across her forehead in a chaste kiss. “I must,” he said, and pulled away.
Liz’s writing is strong, but I didn’t turn this page. It may just be that I’m not the target reader for this, being of the male persuasion, but I didn’t find this scene compelling. I understand that Athelia is troubled, and rightly so, but nothing about her future seems particularly troublesome at this point. Are there stakes or consequences that could affect her with his leaving?
In a moment I’ll include a section from the chapter that I’ve modified slightly that would have been more compelling for me.
A question for you: did the quote that opened the section increase your interest, or not? Notes:
...that the heirs shall be born of seed royal, but of common stock, guarded and trained by men of renowned loyalty...
-~-Sixty-third Tenet; Book of the Council
Athelia fought the tears threatening to break free. She rested a hand on her belly. The bulge would not show for another month. At least one piece of Endry remained to her.
She glanced up at her lover as he nudged his horse closer. The Fay-el of all the Mara watched her with an impassive expression. How could he be so calm when her heart was shattering in her chest? This is a teensy nitpick, but I would quibble with “glanced.” If this is her lover and he’s leaving her pregnant, I think she would be doing more than glancing. She would gaze upon him as much as possible, wouldn’t she? And wouldn’t there be emotion connected with the sight?
Endry shook his head as tears drew wet trails through the sand on her cheeks. “You knew it would come.”
Athelia dropped her gaze to the ground. “Aye. But why must it be so? Why can’t you stay with me?” It seems to me that this question should have come up when he first told her that he was leaving and that this conversation should have already happened. Surely he didn’t just go out that morning, saddle his horse, and say, “Hey, sweetie, I ‘m leaving.” It may be that this doesn’t deserve a scene but perhaps a little telling along the way.
“The child must grow among the people, before he can rule over the people.” Same comment—she should have heard this before, it seems to me.
“Do not quote maxims at me!” she threw her head high, “My heart is breaking and you spout dry text?” Forgive me, Liz, but there’s a phrase here that took me out of the story, and when, two paragraphs from here, she does another odd thing with her head, it was kinda funny. Here she’s throwing her head, and later she drops it. I understand that you didn’t mean it to be taken literally, I’m just saying that’s how it struck me. Might want to consider other ways to do this.
He sighed. “Do you believe me immune to your pain? I feel it as you do. But it is what must be.”
Athelia laid her hand on his stallion’s flank. “Please.” She dropped her head, whispering, “Don’t leave me.”
She heard the saddle creak as he leaned down. Warm breath tickled the top of her head. He brushed his lips across her forehead in a chaste kiss. “I must,” he said, and pulled away. Another teensy nitpick—the first sentence. I suggest losing the “she heard” part. It could be crisper with something like: Saddle leather creaked. Warm breath tickled the top of her head.
Here’s the section that I found more interesting:
At the edge of her vision, Athelia spotted a furtive movement. She whirled. A slender man stood there. The rocking chair had hidden him from her sight. She took a step back. Her hip brushed against the worktable. “What do you want? How did you get in here?”
His eyes narrowed. She noted with relief that they were chunks of ebony, and not the hated blue. Though this was the northernmost province of the Mara Desert, Lodear was not immune to raids by Eloin. Two of her childhood friends, caught wandering at night by a rogue band of these Eloin, these vile “Others.” They had returned to their homes beaten, bloody, and ravished.
Keeping an eye on him, she fingered the needles and scissors spread haphazardly across the table.
“Are you Athelia?” His voice held the slight huskiness of an Eastar accent.
“Why?” She gave him a cursory glance. He didn’t seem like the type that came sneaking into people’s houses. His shirt was neatly laced and clean; his dark hair had been shorn at chin-length. A scar trailed from the corner of one eye and disappeared beneath his jaw, marring his rugged features.
“Did he not mention me?” he said.
“Who?”
Yes, there’s scene-setting missing, but this raises a little mystery that I would have continued on to learn about. However, I would have eventually had the same question about what she should know at this point—this man is a soldier sent by her royal lover to marry her and raise the child, yet she doesn’t seem to know anything about it.
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.
© 2011 Ray Rhamey