Check out my Writer Unboxed Flog a Pro post--interesting comments on a bestselling YA novel, The Fault in Our Stars. It got a "yes" from me.
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Submissions needed: There are only a couple of submissions left in the pillory. 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
Holly sends the first chapter of a post-apocalyptic YA novel, Terra Vonn. Please vote—the feedback helps the writer.
My clan had decided when I would marry, and, as bad as that sounds, a few goats or chickens, more or less, would determine who would marry me. I tried my best, but I couldn’t think of any way to get out of it.
Every year, after traveling north to our base camp, and just before spring planting, our village would throw a wedding party. The fifteen and nearly-fifteen-year-old girls plus any other unattached women who wanted to would present themselves to the clan. Men then bid on us. After the bidding ended, we were married. It was as simple as that. We were just trade items, I guess. Happy brides were part of a long ago history and had no place at our wedding party.
The day had finally come, and I was fixing my best friend Becca’s hair and helping her with the carved-bone buttons on the back of her dress.
“You’re beautiful, Becca.”
She turned and held my hands.
“Aren’t you excited? Carson will pick you, I know he will,” she said. “And Michael will pick me, and we’ll live next to each other and be great friends.”
That kind of talk was why I worried about Becca. I was sure that none of what she hoped for was going to happen. I bit my lip and turned her around, fiddling with her hair. “That would be nice. I hope you’re right.”
Close, but . . .
Even though the first couple of paragraphs come close to being info-dumpish, and I think they could be done better with a more experiential approach—make it personal rather than a report, for example, something like Now that I was fifteen, I had to present myself etc… they interested me in this world and the girl. But then the narrative shifts into talk and buttoning a dress. It anticipates what might happen rather than be something that is happening. I’d have been happier if some of this piece from later had been the third paragraph:
A few of the prettier girls would bring high bids, but I knew I wouldn’t be one of those. Most people considered me attractive, with my long blonde hair and blue eyes, but I was so tall I towered over all of the girls and most of the boys. My parents also cautioned me that no one appreciated my smart mouth. There was another thing that went against me. A boy had once thrown me to the ground, and I did the same to him, causing him to walk with a limp from then on. My parents were really angry about that. They told me I had ruined my chances with a potential husband -- and that my odds weren’t great to begin with.
I think something like that increases tension through her chance of failure. If we were to switch at that point to her hoping that she would fail to get a husband, I think the story questions would be plenty strong. Notes on the original, which could be tighter:
My clan had decided when I would marry, and, as bad as that sounds, a few goats or chickens, more or less, would determine who would marry me. I tried my best, but I couldn’t think of any way to get out of it. The opening is a little misleading—the clan doesn’t decide when she in particular will marry, it just has rules that determine when it happens to all their women. I think this could be more interesting and raise stronger story questions from the start with something like this thoughtstarter: A few goats or chickens, more or less, would decide who in my clan I would have to marry after today’s wedding party.
Every year, after traveling north to our base camp, and just before spring planting, our village would throw a wedding party. The fifteen and nearly-fifteen-year-old girls plus any other unattached women who wanted to would present themselves to the clan. Men then bid on us. After the bidding ended, we were married. It was as simple as that. We were just trade items, I guess. Happy brides were part of a long ago history and had no place at our wedding party. I don’t think the details about base camp, etc. are necessary. And I think this could be stronger if it comes more from within the character’s experience. Here’s a rough thoughtstarter (after the suggested opening sentence above: Now that I was fifteen, I had to present myself to the clan along with girls my age and any unattached women who wanted to. I cringed to think of the way the men would bid on us as if we were trade items. After the bidding, we were married. Simple as that. Happy brides were part of a long-ago history and had no place at our wedding party.
A few of the prettier girls would bring high bids, but I knew I wouldn’t be one of those. I was so tall I towered over all of the girls and most of the boys. My parents also cautioned me that no one appreciated my smart mouth. There was another thing that went against me. A boy had once thrown me to the ground, and I did the same to him, causing him to walk with a limp from then on. My parents were really angry about that. They told me I had ruined my chances with a potential husband -- and that my odds weren’t great to begin with.
The day had finally come, and I was fixing my best friend Becca’s hair and helping her with the carved-bone buttons on the back of her dress.
“You’re beautiful, Becca.”
She turned and held my hands.
“Aren’t you excited? Carson will pick you, I know he will,” she said. “And Michael will pick me, and we’ll live next to each other and be great friends.”
That kind of talk was why I worried about Becca. I was sure that none of what she hoped for was going to happen. I bit my lip and turned her around, fiddling with her hair. “That would be nice. I hope you’re right.” Cut to make room for addition above.
Below, just for the fun of it, is an alternative put together using original narrative and the thoughtstarters above. What do you think?
A few goats or chickens, more or less, would decide who in my clan I would have to marry after today’s wedding party. Now that I was fifteen, I had to present myself to the clan along with girls my age and any unattached women who wanted to. I cringed to think of the way the men would bid on us as if we were trade items. After the bidding, we were married. Simple as that. Happy brides were part of a long-ago history and had no place in our village.
A few of the prettier girls would bring high bids, but I knew I wouldn’t be one of those. I was so tall I towered over all of the girls and most of the boys. My parents also cautioned me that no one appreciated my smart mouth. There was another thing that went against me. A boy had once thrown me to the ground, and I did the same to him, causing him to walk with a limp from then on. My parents were really angry about that. They told me I had ruined my chances with a potential husband -- and that my odds weren’t great to begin with.
And that suited me just fine because I hadn’t been able to think of a way to get out of it.
The day had finally come, and I was in our hut fixing my best friend Becca’s hair and helping her with the carved-bone buttons on the back of her dress.
“You’re beautiful, Becca.”
She turned and held my hands.
“Aren’t you excited? Carson will pick you, I know he will,” she said. “And Michael will (snip)
Comments, please?
For what it’s worth.
Ray
Free sample chapters—click here for a PDF
“I'm a rank newbie with just my first draft under my belt and a bad case of "Now what?" I've read many books on writing and editing, but Flogging the Quill is the first to give me hope that I may indeed be able to whip my creation into a novel-like shape. I especially recommend it for NaNoWriMo. FTQ makes an excellent read in December after the chaos of November fades. Ray shows you, very clearly and with humor, what needs to happen after 'The End.'” Elizabeth
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