Call for floggees. Running low again. If you'd like to start the New Year off with an insightful critique of your opening prologue or chapter, please see the submission directions at the end of this post.
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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.
- Story questions
- Tension (in the reader, not the characters)
- Voice
- Clarity
- Scene-setting
- Character
Vandhana has sent prologue and first chapter of What the Wind Told Me. Vandhana tells me that this is a first effort--pretty brave to put it out there. The prologue:
When I was a kid, I waited outside my house every morning. For a hunk of metal. Most of the times, it was painted yellow. The metal had got strange gaps, as if the metal was too expensive to buy for the whole hunk. The odd thing about these gaps is that they’re shaped in exact, equal rectangles. Apparently this hunk of holey metal was called a bus. Not just any bus but a school bus. Previously, my trips on the school bus were ordinary trips - noisy kids screaming on the top of their voices, singing songs playing games, gossiping. I was one of those noisy kids. Through the bus rides, you come to realize that there are a few things you should do because, well, because the big kids say so. Like pretending to enjoy the bumpy ride even though you feel like vomiting, or doing a dare even though you would rather do your homework, or never tell anyone you like pink, even if you do (especially pink unicorns). And then there are a few things you should never do, like snitch on the big kids, or do your homework, or talk to imaginary friends. Apparently having imaginary friends is for old seniles who go on lonely walks. I made a promise to myself to never become an old senile that goes on lonely walks when I grow up. Whatever an old senile is, it sounds very un-cool. Especially when the big kids say it.
But then I grew up. And I became an old senile. Who goes on lonely walks. And has an imaginary friend. Her name’s Wind. She’s always telling me to “observe”. And when I finally (snip)
The first chapter opens this way:
I am writing this chapter because apparently “I have learnt to observe.” That’s what my imaginary friend said. She said I am now ready to experience life. I had a vision of me with black binoculars “observing” a bird in the mystical Amazon. “Now go write a book about your experiences.” she said. My binoculars broke, the bird flew away, and the Amazon was deforested.
So here I am writing a chapter. And I am in big trouble. Because I am inspired. I have learnt to observe. I am ready to experience. But nothing wants to be observed by me. Nothing wants to be experienced.
So here’s the uninspired, unobserved chapter. It is yet to be experienced. By you. And all other readers. I hope the experience is a good one.
There is a chocolate in my hand. There is a girl in my bus. Her name was Tanya. She hated me because I had a chocolate in my hand. And she had nothing in hers. I wouldn’t give her my chocolate.
Later that day, I found a note in my desk. “I hate you!” it read. “And in case you don’t understand that, it means DEATH.”
Oooooh. I was so scared. Wait. Sorry that was a modified memory because I didn’t want to think I was scared of a torn up piece of crumpled paper with led scratches.
Nope.
I like the voice--it’s personable and likeable. While I like the person in the prologue, there was no tension there, nor a good idea of what this story was to be about. There are some craft issues, small ones that can be taken care of with learning and practice. I wouldn’t start anything with such a big, unbroken paragraph, though.
The chapter opening had the same qualities, both good and not-so-good. I was a bit confused by the shift in tense from present to past, and it shifts back to present tense on the next page. There was a chance of tension here with the note that meant death, but the tension was evaporated by the very next paragraph that sort of takes it all back.
I think, Vandhana, what we have here is what we call “throat-clearing.” The time and space you’re taking to introduce us to this character and her memories (by the way, I would like to have known the gender of the narrator right away, not several pages in) could have been gripping us with the story of what happens to her that causes trouble in her life and makes her act to fix things. Find the start of that story and begin there. I do like your writing, though you need to pay more attention to punctuation and spelling (I think you meant “lead” rather than “led”).
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 complete 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