Flogging the Quill

Flogometer for Ruby—would you turn the first page?

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.

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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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Ruby has sent the opening chapter of The Keepers.

Gravity was one of the few things that Chloe Swift hated. Sitting in science lessons in her younger years, she’d become bored of it, this force which people were so in awe of. It was a ‘miracle’ that held her to the earth, however much she wanted to fly. She preferred not knowing what made the Earth the way it was. She didn’t think it wasn’t ignorance- it was choice. Knowing about gravity was a bit like finding out how a magician did his tricks, Chloe thought.

Yes, Gravity had wasted many an afternoon in Chloe’s life. That mixed with Mr. Benson, the science teacher who’d told her she could do ‘great things’ if she would only apply herself. No, she definitely hated it, and right at this moment, when she wanted most of all to fly up and away from where she stood, she thought it probably hated her too.

She looked down over the edge, her auburn ringlets falling over her face to crowd her view. She loved the colour of her hair- the envy of all her friends- but hated its unruly behaviour. She swept it back out of her eyes and behind her ears, a habit she’d picked up from years of trying to tame it- One which her fiancée hated, telling her she looked far more beautiful if she left it, while moving the hair back where it had been. An annoying trait, but he meant well.

I didn’t turn the page

The writing is good, but this page of rumination didn’t provoke much in the way of story questions or tension in this particular reader. Of the three things in the list above, for me this was missing three of them—tension and story questions I’ve mentioned, and scene-setting.

From what I can tell from reading quickly through the rest of the chapter, gravity doesn’t have much to do with the rest of the story. There’s more rumination, then her fiancé/boss comes out (onto a building’s roof, as it turns out). They talk, he gives her a kiss, takes her hand, and they turn to go inside.

Then she wakes in a meadow, and finds herself in a beautiful but very different place. She feels no alarm, though, and investigates her way into a strange inn. Only after about 17 pages of narrative, right at the end of the chapter, do we get to something that would compel me to turn the page. It was this:

“Chloe,” Faye paused for obvious effect, “you’re dead.”

Were I Ruby, I’d try to figure out how to open the story with that line somewhere on the first page. I understand that in the preceding 16 pages that she is working to give us a sense of the character and the life that will be interrupted, but there was very little tension, to my eye, in those pages. Notes:

Gravity was one of the few things that Chloe Swift hated. Sitting in science lessons in her younger years, she’d become bored of it, this force which people were so in awe of. It was a ‘miracle’ that held her to the earth, however much she wanted to fly. She preferred not knowing what made the Earth the way it was. She didn’t think it wasn’t ignorance- it was choice. Knowing about gravity was a bit like finding out how a magician did his tricks, Chloe thought. If we knew here, from a little scene-setting, that she stands at the edge of a roof several stories high, there would be a lot more tension in this opening, though I think it would ultimately be a false direction (unless we learn later that her fiancé pushed her off the roof, but there’s no clue that happens).

Yes, gravity had wasted many an afternoon in Chloe’s life. That mixed with Mr. Benson, the science teacher who’d told her she could do ‘great things’ if she would only apply herself. No, she definitely hated it, and right at this moment, when she wanted most of all to fly up and away from where she stood, she thought it probably hated her too. Now backstory blends into rumination. I’d like for something to happen.

She looked down over the edge, her auburn ringlets falling over her face to crowd her view. She loved the auburn colour of her hair- the envy of all her friends- but hated its unruly behaviour. She swept it back out of her eyes and behind her ears, a habit she’d picked up from years of trying to tame it- One which her fiancée hated, telling her she looked far more beautiful if she left it, while moving the hair back where it had been. An annoying trait, but he meant well. Shifting the color of her hair makes this a legitimate way to introduce it without edging away from her point of view, but it doesn’t seem to me that the opening page is a good time to use most of a paragraph to talk about her hair.

At the end of the chapter the opening of a very interesting story appeared. I hope to see it move to the first page where it can compel a reader to turn the page. Keep at it, Ruby, and trim all you can to get to the essential story.

In a post on Writer Unboxed the other day, a delightful author named Rae Meadows said this:

”Where to begin a novel? I still use the image of the boulder beginning to roll down the hill. Something has been set in motion.”

Today’s opening needs to heed that guideline.

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.

© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Free FtQ chapter—stronger storytelling

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From the Technique section of section of my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells: “Linger for involving storytelling.”

I took a course in literary manuscript development at the University of Washington from novelist Laura Kalpakian. She gave my storytelling high marks for dialogue, description, and pace—but she didn’t get enough from my narrative about the characters to truly involve her, to make her care. For her, my narrative was simply too lean at times for her to experience what was happening to the character in a way that connected with her.

Her wise advice: “Linger.”

The following paragraph comes from a writer’s sample that I critiqued in my blog. In the scene, a teenage boy is approaching a girl’s home for his first date with her, and he’s never been there.

Her mother opened the door as he approached. “Come right in. Kathy isn’t ready yet; it’ll be just a minute.” He found himself in the living room with her mother, father, and little brother. He tried not to say much, passing the time, trying to get through the ordeal without coming apart.

In this writer’s haste to get the boy and girl out the door and to their date, he’s missed opportunities to draw the reader into the boy’s story and build sympathy for his character, not to mention create tension and story questions about what’s going to happen. Anybody who’s been a teenage boy calling on a girl for the first time knows how tense the situation and the boy are. The narrative would be far better served with a brief scene instead of the summary done here. For example, just one of the rich possibilities to explore in a scene is the look the father gives the boy (for he would give him a look, I’m certain), and the boy’s perception/reaction to it.

Kathy’s father lowered his bushy brows and gave Jimmy a look that made him feel like he was lying under an X-ray machine. He jerked a quick little smile and blurted, “Pleased to meet you, sir.” Then he realized how stupid that was because nobody had actually introduced them. The sweat under his arms cranked up to a steady drip.

I would linger more in that living room to capture character and build tension. In this writer’s manuscript, all too quickly he had the teenagers escape the girl’s house and go to a dance in the high school gym. When they dance close, she gives signals of interest such as pressing tightly against him, and he becomes aroused. When they leave the dance, the writer gives us this:

At twelve, he guided Kathy to their coats and out into the frosty October air. The car heater kicked in nicely as they drove down Main Street and into the countryside. The farms they passed were dark. Jamie turned down a gravel road and slowed.

The night is frosty, but what else is there when they walk out of that gym? There’s no tension or anticipation in this expository paragraph, but great opportunity to build it. Is there a moon out? Mightn’t he gaze at her face and have some romantic/lusty thoughts as he takes her to the car? If it’s like any high school dance I ever went to back in the day, there are kids outside, some smoking, some necking. For example, what if we lingered just a bit like this?

At midnight, he guided Kathy to their coats and out into the frosty October air. Laughter and the sweet aroma of cigarette smoke wafted from three guys huddled beside a pickup truck. When Jimmy and Kathy passed a parked car with steamed-up windows, he heard thumping and the car rocked on its springs. He glanced at Kathy and found her gazing at the car. If only...

She looked up at him and grinned. She tiptoed and leaned against him to whisper into his ear, pressing her belly against his hand. “I don’t have to be home until one.”

Oh, man…

That little bit of description and action didn’t take many words, but you get a greater sense of place and time, and the sexual tension between the two is ramped up. As a result, the coming necking and petting when they park will be that much more meaningful.

Stay with scenes long enough to enrich them with “story meaning”—character emotions and reactions to settings and happenings that deepen the reader’s understanding and connection.

Lingering means:

• Take the time to let your characters come to life on the page.
• Bring them to life with action that characterizes and advances the story.

For what it’s worth

Ray

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© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for MZ—would you turn the first page?

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But first, a reader review from Amazon for The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles, Kindle edition, 99 cents:

LOVE THE BOOK!!!!!!!! SO FUNNY!!!!

I love this book, not only because of the new, fresh twist to the whole average vampire story, but because it is so funny! I would recommend this book to people of the younger age, but if you are an adult that just wants a light funny read, try the sample. There are lots of laugh out loud times. I hope that my review can help you with your decision to buy the book, and if you do, it is worth your while!

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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.

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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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MZ has sent a prologue and first chapter of The Suicide Games. The prologue:

I shove the revolver into my mouth. The cloying taste cuts my tongue.

My watch ticks like a bomb, each jolt of the hand a hammer to my heart. I told her I’d do it. I left three messages. When the clock strikes ten I’m going to pull the trigger, blast my soul out of this empty, bitter world. I remember her smile, her soft red lips blossoming like a rose on a sun-drenched morning. I’d kill to see that smile again. And I made it clear I’d kill if I didn’t see that smile again.

Its two minutes past ten. She’s not here. I squeeze the trigger. Hot agony rips though my throat.

My tragic life story ends.

At least, that was the plan.

First chapter opening:

I’m seated at a table in a small room with tawdry floral wallpaper. The taste of gunpowder still lingers in my mouth. I look at my hands and am instantly perplexed. Instead of my stubby fingers with their calloused tips, I see smooth, tapered digits. My arm is slender, the muscles more defined.

A door creaks open and a man steps in front of me. His dense mat of curls looks like sheep wool. Two small horns jut from his temples. His yellow eyes twinkle as he strokes his beard, which is shaved into intricate, artful symbols: circles, squares and whorls.

“Is this heaven?” I ask.

The man snorts. “You killed yourself. Why would you go to heaven?”

I’d thought about it before. Some part of me still hoped I’d be forgiven. I’d been spiritual, never actively harmed another person, and I spent a quarter of my salary on the poor. Hell, I even became a fire fighter because I wanted to save people. I had a thing for helping others.

“So I’m in hell then?” I ask.

“No you’re in between. Heaven had expected more of you and hell had not been expecting you at all. You shouldn’t have pulled the trigger.”

Yes

Likeable voice, though a little over the top for my taste at times, but still fun, and plenty of what’s-next story questions for me.

A couple of thoughts on word choice: first, the use of “cloying,” which, for me, did not contribute to the description. It’s not a common word, at least to me (I had to look it up). It means “having an excess of a quality (as sweetness or sentimentality) to the point of arousing distaste or disgust.” It doesn’t really indicate what the taste was like, so doesn’t contribute to the picture. Same goes for “tawdry.” The wall paper may have been cheap and gaudy in appearance, but what does it look like? Those adjectives “tell” rather than “show,” in my view.

There were other little things I’d point out in an edit—the prologue refers first to a watch and then a clock—but there were no serious flaws in the writing.

One thing, though—it seems to me that the prologue could have just been the opening of the first chapter, with a space break for when the scene changes. I think that would be more effective.

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.

© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Nell—would you turn the first 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.

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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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Nell has sent a revision of the opening of All Torc’d Up .

On that night long ago I whined softly in my sleep, rousing for a moment when hands lifted me. I heard sirens and unfamiliar noises, but managed to blend them into my dream for a little longer. I still remember.

“Johnson. Hey. Would you grab that doll for me?” The voice was gruff and authoritative, but somehow very pleasant. It didn’t register in my mind as familiar. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. And it’s freezing out. Get me that blanket off the bed and cover her up real good for me, okay? I can’t do it with one hand.”

It was a man’s voice – a stranger’s – and it broke me free of the dream. I opened my eyes to find a policeman holding me close to his chest. Johnson was pressing a blanket around me, and tucking my doll into my arms. The rotating blue lights of two police cars parked in front of the building swirled around my room, which was otherwise lit by one small lamp on a chest of drawers. I heard the police car radio down below, an approaching ambulance, and loud, anxious voices in the street as a crowd of neighbors gathered.

“Mommy!” I screamed, twisting in the policeman’s arms. “Mommy!”

The man held me tightly and said, “Shhh. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He looked around the room, sparsely furnished with a little bed, the chest of drawers and a rocking horse. The room was messy and covered with dust. The entire apartment was filthy. I saw the grim look on his (snip)

I turned the page

This opening, for me, illustrates why there are no “rules” in writing fiction—there’s no rule against starting with backstory, it’s just that it doesn’t usually work very well. This time, the little girl’s scary situation was enough to make me want to know more about what happened to her.

The voice is good, and the writer makes it clear that this is the adult telling the story, so we don’t have to worry about the language of the narrative being appropriate for a four-year-old (that’s her age, learned on a later page). I do think it could be tighter, though, and there was a little logic problem. Notes:

On that night long ago, I whined softly in my sleep, rousing for a moment when hands lifted me. I heard sirens and unfamiliar noises, but managed to blend them into my dream for a little longer. I still remember. I cut the last sentence as unnecessary; we already know that she’s remembering.

“Johnson. Hey. Would you grab that doll for me?” The voice was gruff and authoritative, but somehow very pleasant. It didn’t register in my mind as familiar. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. And it’s freezing out. Get me that blanket off the bed and cover her up real good for me, okay? I can’t do it with one hand.” I don’t think she needs to tell us that the voice is not familiar, that’s clear to me from the narrative.

It was a man’s voice, – a stranger’s – and it broke me free of the dream. I opened my eyes to find a policeman holding me close to his chest. Johnson was pressing a blanket around me, and tucking my doll into my arms. The rotating bBlue lights from outside my window of two police cars parked in front of the building swirled around my room, which was otherwise lit by one small lamp on a chest of drawers. I heard the a police car radio down below, an approaching ambulance, and loud, anxious voices in from the street as a crowd of neighbors gathered. Even though we know this is narration of a past event, I recommend limiting what is recalled to what the child could logically perceive. Unless we have her look out the window, the child won’t know that those are police car lights or that a crowd is gathering. She’s being held close to a man’s chest and covered with a blanket, so she can’t really see all that exterior detail. I don’t think it’s necessary, either.

“Mommy!” I screamed, twisting in the policeman’s arms. “Mommy!”

The man held me tightly and said, “Shhh. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He looked around the room, sparsely furnished with a little bed, the chest of drawers and a rocking horse. The room was messy and covered with dust. The entire apartment was filthy. I saw the a grim look on his (snip) Rather than use the adverb “tightly,” I suggest you look for a stronger verb. For example, would “hugged me to his chest” picture it as well? I didn’t think the line about the entire apartment fit with this close drama in her room.

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.

© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Ray plus shameless stuff-promotion—help me out?

We the Enemy is launched!

Okay, I’m pretty excited by this, so please bear with me. After an investment of 10 years and considerable bucks on professional editorial input, I’ve put it out there. It’s available in paperback and ebooks of all sorts at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

In the tradition of FtQ, I offer below the first manuscript page. IF you want to turn the page, there’s a link that takes you to a 2-chapter sample. But first . . .

Hey, it’s just 99 cents!

All the ebook versions are priced at 99 cents—did you know that there’s a free Kindle reader for your computer? I want to make it as easy as possible to make readers familiar with my work, so this is partly a marketing effort. At very low risk, readers have a chance to discover a writer they like to read.

The paperback is cool

Yeah, I may be biased because it’s my design, but it’s a really nice book to have and to hold. The paperback isn’t 99 cents: it’s priced at $13.95--production and sales costs need to be covered.

Pass the word?

Whether you like this piece of my stuff or not, it’s possible that readers you know will. So please forward, tweet, or whatever this post to other readers. I thank you. My wife thanks you. My cat thanks you (by the way, you’re a lot better off if you stay on her good side).

Okay, flogging time

Even though We the Enemy is published, I can change it if I learn things that I want to incorporate. That’s the cool thing about ebooks and Print On Demand. So please read and comment as you will (and, hey, even if you vote to not turn the page, why not click the link and have a taste of a little more?).

And remember, this is “stuff.” It’s not about me, it’s about the words and how well they do or don’t work with you. Here goes . . .

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Ray has sent the opening of We the Enemy, a near-future speculative thriller.

The young woman laughed and swung the child back and forth.

Words came from Jake, but he couldn’t make them out because they were muddied and slow, as if made of molasses.

The woman frowned at him. She pulled the child in and said underwater words that made no sense. The look on her face was angry. Wild.

A nasty mechanical buzz blasted him—his alarm clock yelling at him. Jake groped and turned it off, then realized that he was holding his breath, his jaws clenched.

Why?

As he did every morning, he turned to a snapshot in a plain black frame on his nightstand—Amy in her favorite flowery party dress, forever five years old. He touched the tiny silver crucifix hanging from the frame by its chain. Amy wore it in the picture.

Why could he see her face in the photo but not in his memory? The crucifix glittered, and he couldn’t look at her picture any more.

He swung out of bed and his foot came down on an empty wine bottle. God, his head hurt—the price of self-medication. He scowled at all the damn sunshine coming in the window.

Should he blow off his meeting with the attorney general of the Unites States? After she’d come all the way to Chicago to keep the meeting secret? Should he stiff a woman who has lots of (snip)

To turn the page, click here.

Hey, thanks!

Thanks for reading and voting and commenting. And for spreading the word.

End of stuff promotion (for now).

Ray

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.

© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Tony—would you turn the first 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.

---

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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Tony has sent a revision of the opening of Lights Out, a contemporary fantasy.

Danny Hamil hadn’t told anyone that the fingers on his pitching hand were turning blue. He lingered in the musty tunnel that led from the clubhouse to the playing field, killing time. Beyond the mouth of the tunnel, Art Coley, the Newark Bears manager, watched the hitters from his lawn chair perch behind the batting cage. Even though Coley couldn’t see him lurking in the darkness, Hamil knew the manager was waiting for him.

For months he had hounded Coley to sign him. Told him the arm felt good. Said he was in the best shape of his life - healthy and strong. What a joke. Hamil rolled his shoulder to stretch the rotator cuff, felt a twinge and winced. Things should’ve been better by now. He tucked his glove under his arm and pawed at the joint.

The ritual was supposed to restore him back to health –alleviate his pain. Make him stronger. Not that he believed in all that superstitious mumbo-jumbo, but with nothing to show for his career except luggage blanketed with stickers and years of mileage on his arm, he was willing to take a little on faith. Seven hundred dollars a month just wasn’t enough, anymore.

He didn’t like lying to Artie, but at thirty-six, his options dwindled each day. Now it was too late for the truth. How do you tell the man giving you a chance to pitch again that you can’t grip a baseball without losing feeling from your wrist down to your fingertips?

I let ‘er lie

The writing is good, and I like the voice, but two things stopped me. The first was dawdling—Danny is killing time, and so is the story. Why are we waiting for something to happen? The second was a clarity issue—I was totally confused by elements in the third paragraph and its references to things I knew nothing about and that weren’t included in the narrative. Perhaps they were intended to raise questions, but instead they created frustration. I do like the writing, and I was interested in this character, but the narrative as it is just didn’t compel. Notes:

Danny Hamil hadn’t told anyone that the fingers on his pitching hand were turning blue. He lingered in the musty tunnel that led from the clubhouse to the playing field, killing time. Beyond the mouth of the tunnel, Art Coley, the Newark Bears manager, watched the hitters from his lawn chair perch behind the batting cage. Even though Coley couldn’t see him lurking in the darkness, Hamil knew the manager was waiting for him. Why is he killing time? Just so we can pause for information? We could be filled in on stuff as he strides out, wondering if he has the stuff to get the job.

For months he had hounded Coley to sign him. Told him the arm felt good. Said he was in the best shape of his life - healthy and strong. What a joke. Hamil rolled his shoulder to stretch the rotator cuff, felt a twinge and winced. Things should’ve been better by now. He tucked his glove under his arm and pawed at the joint. This works for me. Lets me know some of his troubles, the things he has to overcome to achieve his goal.

The ritual was supposed to restore him back to health –alleviate his pain. What ritual? “Pawing” at his shoulder is a ritual? Not to this reader. This took me out of the story. Make him stronger. Not that he believed in all that superstitious mumbo-jumbo, What superstitious mumbo-jumbo? We haven’t heard any, and have no idea what this refers to. This reference to something not in the story added a second wave of confusion for me. but with nothing to show for his career except luggage blanketed with stickers and years of mileage on his arm, he was willing to take a little on faith. Take a little what on faith? What is he thinking about? Seven hundred dollars a month just wasn’t enough, anymore. Argh. Another element that’s unclear and unexplained—seven hundred dollars a month for what? What does seven hundred dollars a month have to do with what’s happening now?

He didn’t like lying to Artie, but at thirty-six, his options dwindled each day. Now it was too late for the truth. How do you tell the man giving you a chance to pitch again that you can’t grip a baseball without losing feeling from your wrist down to your fingertips? One last thing that feels contradictory to me—clearly the guy can still pitch despite the blueness and the numbness, otherwise he wouldn’t be there, ready to go out and pitch in order to get a job. So what do those symptoms have to do with his problem? Are they related to the ritual? Are they bad things or just mysterious things? There are times when holding back some information can create story questions, but other times that it just creates confusion, as in my case.

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.

© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Scott—would you turn the first 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.

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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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Scott has sent the opening of A Cold Soldier.

The snow muffled the sound of their methodical progress through the dense forest of beech and oak. In some places the snow was as deep as their paratrooper boots and getting deeper by the hour.

The twilight reflected just enough off the snow and trees to make every man continually move his finger from the stock of his weapon to the trigger and back as they deciphered shadow from soldier.

Bill could barely to see squad leader Sgt. John Ballard as he led them through the forest his Thompson machine gun at the ready. Sgt. Ballard was just twenty feet ahead of him, but the shadows and snow played tricks on his eyes. He could only hope the other ten men of First Squad, Charlie Company could see the man closest to themselves. It was the only way the sergeant’s hand signals could be relayed through the squad.

William “Bill” Bowden was painfully aware of three things during this patrol. First, his fingers and toes throbbed with pain only the cold can cause. Second, every breath burned as the frigid December air battled with the warm air in his lungs, and finally the incessant sound of Bing Crosby’s “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” played over and over in his mind. He desperately wanted to switch his internal radio station. Usually he whistled a new tune to replace an (snip)

That speed bump stopped me

I’m referring to the shift of the narrative from the action of a squad on patrol to a struggle with what music to listen to inside the character’s head. The listing in the last paragraph didn’t help, either—I don’t think a person’s thought processes in this situation would have gone there; this is the author intruding.

Even while there is a natural tension to a military patrol, there wasn’t enough to get me to turn the page. With a little pruning, Scott could have had a paragraph on the first page that would have gotten me to turn. It was this:

Sgt. Ballard brought up his left fist and dropped to his haunches next to a tree. Bill imitated the gesture, and it repeated back through the squad like a well-armed and olive drab chorus line. A rush of adrenaline hit. Note: ”imitated the gesture” didn’t feel right to me—wouldn’t something such as “repeated the signal” communicate a little better?

Some notes:

The snow muffled the sound of their methodical progress through the dense forest of beech and oak. In some places tThe snow was as deep as their paratrooper boots and getting deeper by the hour.

The twilight reflected just enough off the snow and trees to make every man continually move his finger from the stock of his weapon to the trigger and back as they deciphered shadow from soldier.

Bill could barely to see squad leader Sgt. John Ballard as he led them through the forest his Thompson machine gun at the ready. Sgt. Ballard The sergeant was just twenty feet ahead of him, but the shadows and snow played tricks on his eyes. He could only hope the other ten men of First Squad, Charlie Company could see the closest man closest to themselves. It was the only way the sergeant’s hand signals could be relayed through the squad. ”played tricks on his eyes” is “telling.” Show this. In fact, the previous paragraph did show this problem, so I’m not sure it needs to be repeated here. It’s not clear whether the squad is in a line or spread out. Bill is behind the sergeant, but I wasn’t sure about the others.

William “Bill” Bowden was painfully aware of three things during this patrol. First, Bill’s his fingers and toes throbbed with pain only the cold can cause, and. Second, every breath burned in as the frigid December air battled with the warm air in his lungs, and finally the incessant sound of Bing Crosby’s “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” played over and over in his mind. He desperately wanted to switch his internal radio station. Usually he whistled a new tune to replace an (snip)

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

Tweet

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.

© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Free FtQ chapter—story as garden

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From the Technique section of section of my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells: “Story as garden.”

While enjoying one of my favorite films, The Abyss, I was reminded of the need for effective “seeding” of character and action. The film does it well.

At one point a roughneck in the crew holds up his massive fist and tells a buddy that “they used to call this the hammer.” That nicely sets up a time later in the film when he knocks a bad guy head over keister with one mighty punch. Because of the setup, it was absolutely credible. (Well, the guy’s size was a part of that, too.)

Another fine setup had to do with the hero’s wedding ring as a life-saving device. After a spat between Bud and Lindsey, his about-to-be-divorced wife (and the heroine), he throws his wedding band in a toilet. He leaves. Comes back and fishes the ring out. Cut to extreme close-up of wedding band going back on his finger.

While at the time this seemed pointed at characterizing him and his feelings about her—and it was—that wasn’t everything it did. Later in the film the hold he is in is flooding. He dashes for an already-closing hatch door and manages to put a hand into the gap. Ordinarily his hand would have been crushed by the hydraulic door, but it’s not. Yep, his wedding ring stops the door from closing all the way. Rescuers come and the door is opened. But that must have been one helluva wedding ring.

Without the setup, the ring-stopping-the-door trick would have been a mini deus ex machine and a laughable coincidence. These “seedlings” in the film work so well because they don’t call attention to themselves and just seem like normal parts of what’s happening. Thank you, excellent screenwriter, for your good gardening.

A mystery writer must, of course, plant clues—interesting how even the language for doing this kind of thing is from gardening—but the rest of us need to pay attention to our seeding as well, for both action and characterization.

In a romance novel I recently edited, almost at the end of the book the heroine is groped from behind in a public place by a man whom she assumes to be her current love. She goes along with it because they’ve made love in risky places before. Unfortunately, it’s her old lover doing the groping. As bad luck would have it, her current guy bursts in on the scene. Despite her sincere explanations, he goes into a jealous snit and declares that the relationship won’t work. Goodbye.

All good grist for the romance mill…but for one thing. The current guy has been Mister Adoring Puppy the whole way. He has accepted her dalliance with a celebrity in the beginning of the relationship, including a hot sleepover. He has been accommodating in every way, constantly declaring his love with words and actions. That’s another thing I talked to the writer about—the guy is just too perfect. No flaws. No character arc. No contention between him and her except for the before-mentioned snit.

The problem with how he reacted to this incident was that the motivation for a strong jealous reaction had never been set up. To react strongly was out of character for this guy. Luckily, it didn’t have to be, and I was able to suggest to the writer how to fix it by drawing on other material already in the story. It seems that the protagonist’s first love was jealous and, whenever she even spoke to another man, he would put his arm around her and interfere. If the writer has Mr. Perfect do something similar (an action to which she can react, thereby inserting even more characterization for her) and exhibit a bit of jealousy, then his motive for the later scene will be established and it will be credible.

“Post-seeding”

Computers are wonderful in the way they give you the ability to go back and change things in the earlier pages of a novel quickly and easily when a late thought creates the need for seeding a development in your story. Here’s an example of “post-seeding.”

About a third of the way into a novel, the female protagonist needs to be pulled out of a suicidal dive caused by the tragic death of her once-in-a-lifetime love. She encounters a small boy who seems to suffer from autism. She is a healer, and is sympathetic, but his condition and innocence didn’t seem like motive enough to stir her from her depression.

So what would? How about if the child reminded her in a specific, powerful way of the man she had loved and lost? So the author went back to the scene leading to her love’s death and gave him a “little-boy-lost” look that had always melted her heart. Then the narrative showed her seeing that same look in the eyes of the boy. That stimulus started her on the path of helping the child, which ultimately brought her back to emotional life. The phrase “little-boy-lost” was seeded in three places that added up to powerful motivation for her when the right time came. By the way, the seed had to be distinctive enough to be easily recalled when the time came; in this case, little-boy-lost not only fit unobtrusively the first time it was used, i.e., didn’t call attention to itself, it was distinct enough to remember later.

So seed your novel with small things early on that grow to be significant. And don’t hesitate to go back and plow up early ground to plant the antecedents of characters and events that come into being in the process of discovering your story.

For what it’s worth

Ray

© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Bill—would you turn the first 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.

---

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

---

Bill has sent the opening of The Accidental Hobbyist .

Three minutes after Luke Matthews began speaking from the podium, the owner of the most spellbinding legs he’d ever seen barged down the left aisle of the Sheraton Atlanta’s Salon D and sashayed across the front row. As she squeezed into the centermost seat, her micro skirt rode up enough for Luke to glimpse girl parts he’d never before seen in public, and not all that often in private.

For the next forty minutes, whenever Luke’s gaze swept the front row, it locked on her thighs like a heat-seeking missile. Although preoccupied with presenting his slides and video clips, he nonetheless managed to tally the times she crossed and uncrossed her legs: six roundtrips, or seven, if you counted when she worked a slim ankle beneath the opposite butt cheek. Luke had come prepared for the hecklers that big pharmaceutical companies sometimes sent to his dog and pony shows, but not for this Sharon Stone impersonator. Whatever game she was playing, he wanted to find out badly enough to cut short both his talk and the ensuing question and answer session. He wrapped up ten minutes before four, not that it mattered to his audience of aging diabetics.

As soon as Luke switched off the microphone, Legs bounded out of her seat and stormed the dais. “Mr. Matthews, will you grant me an interview? Now? Please, please.” She only wanted an interview. Whew! If she’d asked for a contribution to her favorite charity, by now he’d be (snip)

Okay, I turned the page

I couldn’t resist continuing to find out the answer to the story question raised here—what will come of this encounter? It may be that me being of the male persuasion was a factor; I can see this not having much appeal to a female reader.

That said, I think it would be much stronger than if there were more than a potential hook-up in play. Is that all the story is about? After reading the rest of the chapter, there wasn’t a clear indication that there was more to it than skirt-chasing. They don’t get together, though some erotic stuff happens over a drink, but the chapter leaves Luke still focused on the girl, and no other story question is raised.

I think there needs to be clear that there are other stakes in this opening, and for sure in the chapter. If the only thing driving the story is sex, that’s not enough. Other than that, the writing is clean, though I think it could be tighter. Notes:

Three minutes after Luke Matthews began speaking from the podium, the owner of the most spellbinding legs he’d ever seen barged down the left aisle of the Sheraton Atlanta’s Salon D and sashayed across the front row. As she squeezed into the centermost seat, her micro skirt rode up enough for Luke to glimpse girl parts he’d never before seen in public, and not all that often in private.

For the next forty minutes, whenever Luke’s gaze swept the front row, it locked on her thighs like a heat-seeking missile. Although preoccupied with presenting his slides and video clips, he nonetheless managed to tally the times she crossed and uncrossed her legs: six roundtrips, or seven, if you counted when she worked a slim ankle beneath the opposite butt cheek. Luke had come prepared for the hecklers that big pharmaceutical companies sometimes sent to his dog-and-pony shows, but not for this Sharon Stone impersonator. Whatever game she was playing, he wanted to find out badly enough to cut short both his talk and the ensuing question-and-answer session. He wrapped up ten minutes before four, not that it mattered to his audience of aging diabetics. I started to cut this last line because the time he wraps up doesn’t seem important, but the fact that his audience is aging diabetics does seem relevant. But relevant to what? Missing is what he’s talking about, which happens to be a nutraceutical treatment that helps type II diabetics. I think this is important to the story, although wasn’t sure even after reading the chapter. On the minor side, the description of leg-crossing could have been left at just the crossing; this is personal, but for me the word “butt” is not attractive in a narrative. I think the reference to Sharon Stone is a cultural reference that will become meaningless down the road, and would probably not mean much to a younger audience now—I’d look for a way to delete it.

As soon as Luke switched off the microphone, Legs bounded out of her seat and stormed the dais. “Mr. Matthews, will you grant me an interview? Now? Please, please.” She only wanted an interview. Whew! If she’d asked for a contribution to her favorite charity, by now he’d be (snip)

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

Tweet

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.

© 2011 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Valerie—would you turn the first 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.

---

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

---

Valerie has sent the opening of a fantasy titled I AM...ZEVIA FIERCE.

Here was morning, rushing in the front as night fled out the back, one leg in one leg out. I peered through the cracks of my fingers at the light bluish gray sky giving night a final shove over the horizon’s edge. Morning undoubtedly had arrived, but I denied the axiomatic truth a bit longer, cursing daybreak for its persistence, then for being a stabbing pain in my ass, and instantly felt better.

Knowing every curse word ever spoken, Earth words remain my favorite. They provide instant relief from life’s many inconveniences, taste deliciously mean in the morning, more so than any other time of day, and most civilians didn’t understand English. Fuck you could mean what’s up, shut up, or get out. Their ignorance was truly my bliss and as I was not yet in a hurry, I enjoyed a brief moment of vulgarity in spite of the rude hour.

Forty three seconds later the first of the planet’s two small suns crested the horizon, grossly punctual and grossly bright, bouncing a million points of light off the surface of the water. Apparently the universal order of planetary rotation was not empathetic to my aversions or dissuaded by my cursing. With this realization and a low grumble of protest I forced myself into a sitting position, stretched my fingers towards the sky in one final show of contempt to the start of the day.

For me, a touch overmuch

While there is an intriguing aspect to the voice here, spending this much of my reading time being unhappy about the early hour and sitting up left me with no compelling reason to turn the page. This is subjective, of course, but voice alone just wasn’t enough. A story question would have helped—so far, all we have is a grumpy person who thinks long thoughts. A few notes:

Here was morning, rushing in the front as night fled out the back, one leg in one leg out. I peered through the cracks of my fingers at the light bluish-gray sky giving night a final shove over the horizon’s edge. Morning undoubtedly had arrived, but I denied the axiomatic truth a bit longer, cursing daybreak for its persistence, then for being a stabbing pain in my ass, and instantly felt better. For some reason, I wasn’t sure whether the reference to pain caused by the dawn was literal or not, and that pulled me out of the story. Probably an idiosyncratic reaction.

Knowing every curse word ever spoken, Earth words remain my favorite. They provide instant relief from life’s many inconveniences, taste deliciously mean in the morning, more so than any other time of day, and most civilians didn’t understand English. Fuck you could mean what’s up, shut up, or get out. Their ignorance was truly my bliss and as I was not yet in a hurry, I enjoyed a brief moment of vulgarity in spite of the rude hour. I don’t mind spending time on characterization, but is this the time to linger on a mini-essay about cursing?

Forty three seconds later the first of the planet’s two small suns crested the horizon, grossly punctual and grossly bright, bouncing a million points of light off the surface of the water. Apparently the universal order of planetary rotation was not empathetic to my aversions or dissuaded by my cursing. With this realization and a low grumble of protest I forced myself into a sitting position, stretched my fingers towards the sky in one final show of contempt to the start of the day. By this time I’d “gotten” it, and to continue with this rant about the time of day was becoming old to me, and a long-winded way of saying “I sat up” didn’t encourage more reading. I also didn’t understand why stretching one’s fingers toward the sky was a way to show contempt. It didn’t seem like a rude gesture such as giving the sky the finger.

Bottom line, the first page was devoted to a person waking up and then sitting up. I think taking a page to do just that, despite the intricacies of language and opinions that characterize, there just wasn’t enough happening for this reader. In the world of fantasy readers, though, it might be fine.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

Tweet

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.

© 2011 Ray Rhamey