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
Meredith has sent a prologue and first chapter of a contemporary romance, Pura Vida .
Prologue
In the dream, the boy survived.
In the dream, she reached out, her hand cool and dry, her arm as taut and strong as the zip line she’d curled herself around.
Back arched, she extended a hand to the boy dangling from his harness. She didn’t shake, didn’t sweat, didn’t notice an uptick in her breath. All else boiled away, everything important distilled into two bright blue eyes, into a young face tipped up in trust. She could afford a certain smugness, because she knew this dream. And in the dream, the boy survived.
Their fingertips brushed, missed. She stretched further, arm trembling, heart racing, a distant awareness dawning. A moment later, as the bile rose in her throat, she knew.
This was the other dream.
Frantic, she focused on the boy, only on the boy, urging her hand closer.
“Take it!” she screamed. With one heroic lurch, his hand closed around her wrist, but there was no time for relief. She turned to scope their distance from the platform.
“Mandy.”
He’d said it just loud enough to be audible over the screaming wind, just calm enough for hairs to prickle at the nape of her neck.
Chapter One
Amanda Freemont dropped into her swivel chair, untangled the earphones from around an ancient digital recorder and attached herself to the device. Outside the old, louvered windows of Minnesota Unity Hospital, the day winked out into a dull gray.
She sighed and opened a blank document on her computer. Office work blew, but unemployable as she was these days, she tried to be glad for the job, and to swallow the humiliating way she’d gotten it. Besides, even if the halls smelled like antiseptic, they were still good for snatching bits of conversation and the occasional cup of coffee with acquaintances. When her mother called, she’d embellish the encounters and pass them off as a social life.
Amanda flipped the small lever on the recorder’s side. “Session notes for Lin Cheng,” said her brother’s voice as she typed. “Forty year old Asian female, case number– ”
She startled at the sharp rap on the door and pressed the pause button. The door creaked open and the Chief of Neurosurgery stuck his head through the crack.
She waved him through. “Hey, bro.”
Anthony swung the door open and entered, his white lab coat flapping at his thighs. “Been hiding from me?”
Yes. “No.”
Mixed reactions here
Even though the prologue opens with a dream, often a no-no, this one is different, and it is part of a gripping scene, and well written. So I turned the page for that—and it was worth it.
For the chapter, not so much. For one thing, I don’t know if Amanda is the “she” from the prologue—it would have helped if she were (her name is never mentioned in the prologue). The story questions raised by the prologue would have carried me forward a little.
But, as it is, I don’t know that the protagonist in the two scenes is the same. And the first chapter scene, while it does a good job of setting the scene, doesn’t have much tension for this reader. It all sounds like a hum-drum day at a job she doesn’t like. If the appearance of the chief of neurosurgery caused some kind of tension in her, then it might have worked. But not “Hey, bro.” So, for me, the first chapter opening was not compelling.
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
TweetSubmitting 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