At this point there will be no floggings next week—I run out Friday (but the blog goes on).
Call for submissions: If you’d like a fresh look at your work, please join the queue by emailing your submission to me re the directions at the bottom of this post.
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.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
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 just the characters)
- Voice
- Clarity
- Scene-setting
- Character
Scott has sent the first chapter of April Showers.
I awoke muzzy-headed and sick to my stomach, like I had a monster hangover. Except I didn’t remember drinking anything.
When my eyes focused on the dead woman’s face next to me, I said something like “Gah!” and rolled away from her. I twisted out of bed and hit the floor with a heavy thud, barking a kneecap on the hotel room carpet.
“Ouch.”
I didn’t remember going to bed with Mrs. Fortney. And I sure didn’t remember strangling her with a white fishnet stocking.
April Maree Fortney, Democrat candidate for United States Senate from the State of Texas.
I was her bodyguard.
She was dead.
Holy shit, I was in trouble.
I lay on the floor of the Hyatt, sick, sore and…naked. I panted and worked on not throwing up. Vomit challenged the back of my throat and I tried to swallow with a cottony-dry mouth.
How did I get here? And why was I butt-naked?
I scratched my head and tried to think of the last place I remembered being. When you lose your (snip)
Yes . . . and no.
Clearly there are strong story questions here, and they were enough to get me to turn the page. But the “no” comes in because of doubts about the storytelling that may be ahead. Yes, the writing is good, and it’s clean, and there’s a likeable character voice. Tension is there, the scene is set . . . but there’s some “telling” going on that I don’t think is delivering the character’s experience, and some bits that don’t feel authentic to me. Notes:
I awoke muzzy-headed and sick to my stomach, like I had a monster hangover. Except I didn’t remember drinking anything.
When my eyes I focused on the dead woman’s face next to me, I said something like “Gah!” and rolled away from her. I twisted out of bed and hit the floor with a heavy thud, barking a kneecap on the hotel room carpet. Here’s where the telling is—“the dead woman’s face.” How does he know she’s dead? He just woke up and isn’t thinking clearly. Later the author describes her face; I’ll paraphrase it to fit it in here—I focused on the face next to me. A woman, her face bloated and eyes staring, dotted with petechiae – burst capillaries – and her tongue distended. If this is to deliver the character’s experience, let him first see and then conclude/react.
“Ouch.” I don’t think this is needed, and it slows the pace and takes up a line of narrative.
I didn’t remember going to bed with Mrs. Fortney. And I sure didn’t remember strangling her with a white fishnet stocking. I like the way the strangling is worked in.
April Maree Fortney, Democrat candidate for United States Senate from the State of Texas. A nice complication, and it raises the stakes.
I was her bodyguard. While this works, it’s a little flat, and I wonder if his thoughts would really state the obvious this way. Maybe something like ending the previous paragraph with a little fragment: April Maree Fortney, Democrat candidate for United States Senate from the State of Texas. The woman I was guarding.
She was dead. This is redundant, we learned in the first paragraph that she was dead.
Holy shit, I was in trouble. This seems obvious, and I don’t really think he would be thinking this.
I lay on the floor of the Hyatt, sick, sore and…naked. I panted and worked on not throwing up. Vomit challenged the back of my throat and I tried to swallow with a cottony-dry mouth.
How did I get here? And why was I butt-naked? I don’t think these rhetorical questions help, either. They are story questions that have already been raised by the narrative, so just get on with the story that answers them.
I scratched my head and tried to think of the last place I remembered being. When you lose your (snip) Scratching his head is a snippet of overwriting, detail that neither characterizes or advances the story and thus not needed.
With these cuts, there’s a lot more room on the first page for showing and for cranking up the tension.
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
Submitting to the Flogometer:
Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred, no PDFs):
- 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 for your turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.
© 2012 Ray Rhamey