Submissions invited: If you’d like a fresh look at your opening chapter or prologue, please email 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
Andre sends the first chapter of A Lion for Lambs.
38.7443 degrees north, 104.8468 degrees west. That is where I was headed. That is where He told me I needed to be.
I checked the digital clock on my car’s tape deck. Bright blue neon numbers flashed a five followed by a four and a three. A countdown if ever I saw one. If the clock on the radio followed suit with the rest of this junker of a car, it was likely off. I had to be sure. Time was no longer a luxury to be wasted. Hours, minutes, even seconds had become as valuable to me as a mother’s milk to an infant.
I checked my watch. Five forty-three, it read. Or was it five forty-four? It seemed the nicer the watch the less information it gave you. The Movado, a gift from my ex-wife and the single nicest thing I owned, came standard with a small silver dish where a twelve would typically be found, followed by a silver hash mark for three o’clock, six o’clock, and nine o’clock…and nothing else. A sorrier indicator of time when exact time was actually relevant, there was none. The burnished minute hand sat somewhere between the six o’clock hash mark and a third of the way to the nine o’clock mark. I growled at it, grit my teeth, and strained my eyes trying to figure out the mystery of the minute hand.
Horns erupted on the road ahead—I had drifted into oncoming traffic. With a gasp I jerked the wheel, swerving my old 89’ Mazda sedan back into its proper lane. The watch, guilty (snip)
Nope
Lack of story questions, thus tension, is the primary culprit. Is the opening page the place to do a rant on the design elements of a luxury watch? There were 10 more pages of what was, in essence, set-up and an attempt to build the character’s sense of urgency as he speeds on a highway—but we never learn why he’s hurrying or what the stakes are.
On the 11th page something does happen that would make me turn the page. I’ve edited it down to the salient elements. See if you think this alternate opening warrants a page-turn.
Look at him. Just look at him; sitting smugly in his cruiser, taking his sweet-ass time running this law-abiding, slightly speeding motorist through his database of wanton criminals! 6:07 flashed on the radio clock.
6:08.
6:09. Could he move any slower?
The cop came to the window. “Sir, I’m issuing you a citation for driving over the posted speed limit. Now I would advise you to slow it down. It doesn’t matter the hurry you’re in, if you get pulled over again, you’ve just wasted all the time you’ve gained, now haven’t you?”
He extended my documentation through the window, but before I could grab it, a loud thump hit the back seat, a thump from the trunk of my car. I forced a smile.
Thump, thump, thump.
He backpedaled, his hand moving down toward his sidearm. “Hands on the steering wheel! Stay right where you are—“
The left side of his face exploded, ripping his ear clean off. My first shot was off target. I over-anticipated the recoil of the .38 caliber revolver I kept between the parking brake and my seat. My next three shots were more centered. I aimed for the name tag pinned to his chest. R. Miller, it read. I wondered what the R stood for?
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
Free sample chapters—click here for a PDF
I am not a fan of most writing books because they all seem to say the same things. "Show, don't tell." "Create believable characters." "Keep your plot interesting." Rhamey doesn't just tell you what to do, he shows you with concrete examples and a humorous touch. I learned more from this book than I have from all the other books on writing I've read so far combined. Writing Mom
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.
© 2013 Ray Rhamey