“7 Grammar Mistakes You’re Probably Making” is the title of a Huffington Post article on common mistakes writers make. A company called Grammarly organized a group of authors to collaborate on a novel for NaNoWriMo. Approximately 300 writers from 27 countries contributed 130,927 unedited words. Grammarly has created grammar-checking software and says it’s an automated proofreader that corrects up to 10 times more mistakes than word processing software.
They ran the group novel through their software and found the following to be the most common mistakes made by the authors who wrote for the group book project—visit the article page to see a complete explanation:
Missing comma
Run-on sentences
Comma splice
Comma misuse
Definite versus Indefinite article use
Redundant article
Missing article
It’s interesting how many comma issues showed up. I should add that I often correct mistakes in the use of definite and indefinite articles.
I'm out of town and forgot to bring my Flogometer folder. So, what the heck, let's flog a pro. I'm concealing the author's name for now so you can judge it on the merits of the opening page alone.
This novel was in second place on the New York Times ebook bestseller list for December 29. Let’s see just how strong the opening page is—would this have hooked an agent if it came in from an unpublished writer? Do you think it’s compelling? And I mean so irresistible that you would be forced to turn the page if you had the book in your hand because that’s how strong an opening has to be for unpublished authors these days. Following is what would be the first manuscript page (17 lines) of Chapter 1. My vote, the author’s identity and the book title after the fold.
While I was still in Amsterdam, I dreamed about my mother for the first time in years. I’d been shut up in my hotel for more than a week, afraid to telephone anybody or go out; and my heart scrambled and floundered at even the most innocent noises: elevator bell, rattle of the minibar cart, even church clocks tolling the hour, de Westertoren, Krijtberg, a dark edge to the clangor, an inwrought fairy-tale sense of doom. By day I sat on the foot of the bed straining to puzzle out the Dutch-language news on television (which was hopeless, since I knew not a word of Dutch) and when I gave up, I sat by the window staring out at the canal with my camel’s-hair coat thrown over my clothes—for I’d left New York in a hurry and the things I’d brought weren’t warm enough, even indoors.
Outside, all was activity and cheer. It was Christmas, lights twinkling on the canal bridges at night; red-cheeked dames en heren, scarves fling in the icy wind, clattered down the cobblestones with Christmas trees lashed to the backs of their bicycles. In the afternoons, an amateur band played Christmas carols that hung tinny and fragile in the winter air.
Chaotic room-service trays; too many cigarettes; lukewarm vodka from duty free. During those restless, shut-up days, I got to know every inch of the room as a prisoner comes to know his cell. It was my first time in Amsterdam; I’d seen almost nothing of the city and yet the room itself, in its bleak, drafty, sunscrubbed beauty, gave a keen sense of Northern Europe, a model of (snip)
I know it's not Thanksgiving, but this time of year brings me to think of friends and family, and I want to thank all the friends of FtQ for your many contributions during the year--your submissions and your helpful comments. You guys are great.
I read a novel recently that I liked a lot, so I thought I’d do an FtQish review. I’ll give you the first page to flog, but first, I discovered when I made contact with the author that there’s a little bit of FtQ in his path to publication.
Clayton Lindemuth’s new novel is Cold Quiet Country. Clayton has an agent, one of Donald Maass’s team, which speaks very well for the caliber of his storytelling.
Clayton tells me that back in 2008, when he was working on this novel, he started reading Flogging the Quill, and what he got here on story questions influenced his storytelling to a large degree.
I suggest you read Clayton not only for his storytelling, but for his extremely adept use of voice. The narrative is told from two first-person points of view, primarily, and one third-person point of view. I’ve always thought it could be difficult to separate two first-person POVs, but Clayton carries it off magically well. If for nothing else, read Cold Quiet Country for a lesson in using voice.
Below is his first chapter. From FtQ standards, it may not score high on story questions, but I would have given it a go because of the voice. He manages to create a character (and not a nice one) with that voice. Whether you would turn this page or not, I strongly recommend that you read the novel. It’s dark, violent, tragic, and yet still about the power of love.
Before that, though, I’ll give you two more things to chew on. First is that on December 25th Clayton is offering free Kindle downloads of his second novel, Nothing Save the Bones Inside Her. I read an excerpt, and I’ll be downloading the book.
Back to Cold Quiet Country, here’s a blurb from his website:
Gale G’Wain is in trouble. Nineteen, half-frozen, wounded, and fleeing the blizzard scene where murder victim Burt Haudesert lay with a pitch fork run through his neck, Gale holes up in a house left empty.
Sheriff Bittersmith stalks after two sets of footprints in the snow with deputies, hounds, and the fury of a forty-year sheriff who has one day to bring a murderer to justice, before his job is taken by an upstart with political connections.
Gwen, the victim’s seventeen year old daughter, is somewhere in the blizzard.
And nothing is as it seems. Gale fights the impossible good fight. Sheriff Bittersmith is the locus of evil that’s kept a sleepy town under spell for half a century, and Gwen knows when people are going to die because she hears what she calls “the bullfrog song.”
When she hears it for Gale, will she save him,,,
Or herself?
Now for the first page. The usual poll follows.
Got my eye on a purty waitress across the street named Jeanine; been telling myself for two years that one day I’d visit her on this desk.
Sonsabitches want to run me out? Sheriff Bittersmith, run out?
Only thing left to go in the box is my coffee mug. Soon as I dump the last cold swallow and run it under the sink, I’m going to prop my feet on the corner of my desk and wait for noon, walk over there for a wedge of cherry pie, see about Jeanine.
I’m grumbling out loud and Fenny watches from her desk. Women age twice as fast. Twenty woman-years ago, Fenny was something to look at. Now she’s got corcob thighs and tits that spread like loos flapjack batter.
“What’re you bitchin’ about?” She smiles, and she’s purty enough to bend over. Barely. “You got your health,” she says.
“Aw, hell.”
I rap a desk top that as empty as a liar’s stare. No time like the present. Grab my coffee cup.
“Where you going?” Fenny says.
Deputy Odum says, “We got coffee here.”
“I’ll be back in five minutes. Don’t think you can move your shit in my office.”
It’s colder’n a witch’s bippy outside, all snow and ice. Across the street, cattycorner, is the (snip)
Merry Christmas to all. I’ll be taking the 25th off from the blog, but I’ll see you next Friday.
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.
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
Alison sends the first chapter of Savage Grace, in the genre of Greek mythology
The ash tree cried under the stars. Ursula sniffed at it cautiously from the mouth of her cave. The great bear had never heard a tree cry before, let alone her very own scratching post and provider of shade.
But it wasn’t the guardian of her lair that wept. The cry came from the bottom of the tree, from something nestled in the thick roots that emerged from the trunk and plunged into the ground. Something new. Something vaguely round and lumpy. Was it a small boulder? A giant mushroom? No. Neither rocks nor mushrooms wept. The bear approached, more curious than wary. The round lumpiness howled like a cub. Ursula buried her snout in it. Yes, it was a cub, with a squashed face, a pale little nose, and no fur. It was bundled in a shell of straw, not unlike an upside-down turtle. It cried. It smelled of other.
Ursula drew back. She’d smelled this smell before, the otherness of those who walk on their hind legs. She’d smelled it on a flattened boulder in the valley, a boulder covered with flowers and laden with pouches of meat, though such offerings only appeared under a bright moon, and tonight the sky was dark. Were others here?
The bear sniffed. No. The scent ran away into the forest.
The other cub cried. This was the crying that had denied Ursula the sweet bliss of early winter’s sleep. Not her two newborns, only hours old, suckling at her engorged teats. Not her belly, (snip)
This is one of the more unique chapters sent to FtQ. Good, clean writing, an immediate scene, and a new and interesting character. There’s just one teensy technical slip, a small step out of the bear’s POV with “The great bear . . .” which is from an external point of view. This opening does the job for me story-question-wise: I wanted to find out what happened to the new “cub,” so I turned the page. The rest of the chapter is the rearing of the new cub through a few years, quickly done. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t see the beginning of the story from the cub’s point of view—it’s a girl named Ata by the bear. But I’d like to.
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.
If you’ve benefited from the floggings I do, please visit my Kickstarter project—it’s a truly fun and educational game. Pass it on. Thanks.
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.
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
Sydney sends the first chapter of The Starshade’s legacy: Last of the Imirri, a YA fantasy novel.
Okay, whoever said waiting was fun needs to be taught a lesson in boredom. I sighed in annoyance as my eyes roved over the treetops from my perch in the watchtower. Ardoway had gone hunting as usual, leaving me to get the firewood. That, however, already lay in a heap on the floor. Now all I could do was wait for my brother and hope that he managed to bring down a deer for our dinner tonight. It had been over a month since his last catch, and we desperately needed the meat.
Still, a sigh rushed out of me and I rolled over onto my stomach to straddle one of the rafters. I hate waiting, and I hate not being able to go hunting either. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t learn to use a bow too! Splinters dug into my palms when I clenched my hands in anger, then I cursed and jerked them away from the beam to pick out the fragmented wood. Great. Bored and in pain. A perfect combination if there ever was one. But when my eyes raked impatiently across the edge of the forest again, they halted. Then grew wide in disbelief.
A deer stood not more than forty paces away from the tower, ears pricked toward the village in the center of the valley. Atop its head, a crown of massive horns reached to the skies. Its fur was lush and thick, body well filled out despite the unceasing winter. And I was stuck here, looking at it and without any means of trying to catch it!
The voice is good, and the writing as well, though in places there’s a bit too much of it for me. Quick line edit to show what I mean, but continue on, there’s more.
Splinters dug into my palms when I clenched my hands in anger, then I cursed and jerked them away from the beam to pick them out the fragmented wood. Great. Bored and in pain. A perfect combination if there ever was one. But when my eyesI raked my gazeimpatiently across the edge of the forest again, they halted. Thenmyeyes grew wide in disbelief.
Even edited, though, there wasn’t much tension in this opening for me. Not much of a story question raised, and no suggestion of a problem ahead. Almost all of the chapter that followed, something like 15 pages, was world-introduction and set-up. While nicely written, it was still exposition with not much happening.
Until along came something that was interesting and compelling. I’ve adapted some of that later material to create this possible opening page. What do you think? A new poll follows.
Few people passed me on my way to the tiny shack at the edge of the village. Those who lived here often went in the opposite direction –either towards the forest or to home. The only thing beyond was blackened ruins, and then the mountains. It was a foreboding place, especially at night when the wind screamed through the valley like a child that could never be soothed.
Something flickered in the corner of my eye, and I jumped, glancing over towards the ruins. What the . . .? Deer weren’t prone to going anywhere near the village, and it was taboo to go near the burned-out house after the fire.
A hazy outline hovered just above the ground near the ruins. It solidified into a recognizable shape. A woman. She stood an easy six feet in height, and her glowing blue eyes pinned me to the spot. Long, dark hair flowed about her shoulders and her stern, but young-looking face bore the faintest traces of a smile. Her skin, nearly transparent, pulsed and faded in intervals and a long, pale dress as thin as mist blew about her slender ankles.
My mouth opened and closed several times like a fish’s would–trying to find something to say, some sound to make, but it was as if my voice had been rendered clean from me. Thoughts rapid-fired in my mind. A ghost? A spirit? What exactly was she? Was she even real?
“Come.” She mouthed, beckoning me with a crook of one long, thin finger.
Then she vanished–blown apart as if by the wind.
My point is that if you can engage the reader with something truly interesting happening, there is plenty of time to weave the world in as things continue to happen and story questions are raised. So why start with set-up when you can start with tension? I'm certain that Sydney feels that the reader needs to know what's in the set-up, and maybe some of that is true. But not all of it, and what matters can be woven in.
I've mentioned this before--in one of my critique groups, when I brought in the third chapter a member said, "Your story starts here." I resisted for a few months, thinking that I needed that stuff, and then realized he was right. I took about 3 sentences of material from the first two chapters, wove then into the third, and had a much stronger opening.
Please pass on the link to my Kickstarter project.
Maybe post it on your Facebook page?
It will be hugely appreciated. The video tells it all in 22 seconds. (This format is on the small side--to see the words in the game better, visit the Kickstarter page.)
ALL GONE! I have no more submissions in the flogging pillory. Submissions wanted.
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.
Also, please pass on this link to my Kickstarter project: http://kck.st/1gbhnrF. Time is ticking away.
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.
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
Breanne sends the first chapter of Ketil’s Daughter, a YA fantasy novel.
Audny Ketils-daughter had only been up in the high pastures of Egil’s House for one day before little Helgi, the blacksmith’s son, came trudging up the slope with a knapsack slung over his narrow shoulders. As he climbed, he swatted at the long, luxuriant blades of grass with a stick, causing the sheep to scatter and then clump together in a surging mass.
“Stop scaring the sheep, Helgi,” Audny ordered, even though she knew he’d pay her no attention.
When Helgi drew within reach, Audny reached for the knapsack, which doubtless carried some delectable cheeses, bread, fruit and salted meats. But Helgi snatched it away, looking quite affronted as he did so. “That’s my food,” he snapped, clutching the bag close to his slight ten-year-old boy’s frame.
“What?” Audny said, her brow furrowed. “Why on earth is that food yours and not mine?”
“Halldora said to fetch you because you’re needed down at the hall. And that I’m to take over the shepherding for tonight.”
Audny blinked in surprise. “Did she say why she needed me?”
Helgi shook his head. He took a hunk of cheese out of the knapsack, crumpled down onto the hillside, lay back with his heads folded behind his head, and grinned. He reached over (snip)
Good clean writing and a likeable voice contribute to making this opening scene inviting. But there’s not much tension for me—yes, a story question of what Halldora (who we don’t know and don’t know how impacts Audny) wants arises, but with no hint of stakes or meaning to Audny. I wasn’t compelled. The three pages that follow continue the scene and do a nice job of setting the world—but, again, with little tension. On the fourth page a new scene starts. What do you think of this as the opening page? A poll follows.
Audny stormed into the hall of Egil’s House. On the outside she was angry, with her hands balled up into fists and her eyes narrowed to slits. But on the inside something akin to despair had lodged itself in the pit of her stomach, and as much as she tried to ignore it, it wasn’t going away. She had a feeling that this summoning from Halldora had something to do with the dreaded prospect of marriage.
Seeing Audny in such a black mood, the servants scattered from the main room like leaves in a headwind and took shelter in the back storage rooms.
“Come here, niece,” said Halldora. She was seated in the back of the hall next to her daughter, Sigrid. They sat with their heads together, bowed in concentration over their needlework.
Audny strode up to her aunt. “Why did you send Helgi up to take my place? I hope this has nothing to do with that nonsense about Kar Thorvaldson.” A quiver had crept into her voice. Audny hated herself for showing weakness. She dug her nails into her palms; had they been longer, they might have drawn blood.
Halldora and Sigrid looked up. They were almost mirror images of each other--long, golden tresses, fair skin flushed prettily on the apples of their cheeks, and wide-set, pale-blue eyes.
For me, this is a stronger opening. It focuses on aspect of what the story is about and conflict starts right away. However, I wonder if the subject of forced marriage isn’t a little common in stories of this sort. I urge Breanne to look deeper at starting the story at the point where Audny does something to escape this forced marriage, the point where her life really changes.
ONLY ONE LEFT! Submissions wanted. 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.
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
Linda sends the prologue and first chapter of Stellar Desperation.
The prologue
He arrived inside the house, relieved to be whole. She’d spoken of the risks and now he fathomed her apprehension. Desperate to save her life, he’d chosen to risk his own.
He’d cloaked himself prior to ascension and was pleased that he remained concealed upon arrival. Although he’d never been there before, he knew it was her childhood home. A multi-colored blanket draped disarranged over a worn leather couch. He allowed his fingers to stroke the thin material. She’d wrapped herself in it. His fingers recognized her touch through the fibers. With longing, he closed his eyes and brought his fingers to his upturned lips, caressing gently. He felt her.
It pained him to accept that he shouldn’t prevent the brutal murder which was taking place; therefore he couldn’t prevent the lifelong pain she’d have to endure. But he could protect her. He would always protect her.
Unseen, he rushed silently into the room where he heard crying. The bedroom walls were a pastel blue. Two cushiony clouds connected by a plush rainbow were tacked to the wall above the white poster bed. Although he knew her age, he was struck by how young she looked. She was crouched beside the bed, crying, her hands clasped behind her head as if the world were about to fall on top of it. Her arms were pressed tightly against her ears to drown out the (snip)
Chapter one
Stella Ransom lay across her husband’s trim body. At his words, she abruptly stopped caressing him. She was unable to move or even breathe. He lay just as still. At last she willed her body to take a breath. It was a strident inhalation, like that of a drowning person coming up for air. She took another breathe, deliberately holding it as if preparing herself to be submerged again; even deeper.
They were still naked. The dim light from the hall laid itself across their bodies like a veil. Exhaling slowly, Stella lifted her head from her husband’s smooth and toned chest to look up at him. He lay rigid and stared blankly toward the ceiling. To help prop herself up, she moved the arm that had been draped across his solid abdomen. She wanted to see his face as he spoke; to read his expression. She didn't want to hear his words again, but they had been so unexpected, so incompatible with the moment that she needed confirmation of what he’d said.
“What did you say?” To her surprise, her voice was calm and without malice. She should’ve asked why did you say that since she was deeply curious to know; but she truly hoped she’d misunderstood him.
There was no immediate answer. Then he lifted his arm from her bare back to fold it across his eyes. He took a deep breath. Held it for a long time. ‘I think I no longer love you.’
There are things to like about these openings. The prologue has mystery and something happening that, for me, was intriguing enough. And the character was protecting someone who seems to be a child. Good story question, too. The chapter opening had the same virtues—a character being hit with a life-changing event and a good story question. But both pieces had the same shortcoming, too—overwriting. Describing action doesn’t require delineating every twitch of a muscle fiber in an arm, it just calls for clean, smooth, CRISP description, hopefully experiential description. So these got a no from me, but the story is interesting and I’d like to see what Linda does after exercising her delete key. Notes:
Prologue
He arrived inside the house, relieved to be whole. She’d spoken of the risks and now he fathomed her apprehension. Desperate to save her life, he’d chosen to risk his own.
He’d cloaked himself prior to ascension and was pleased that he remained concealed upon arrival. Although he’d never been there before, he knew it was her childhood home. A multi-colored blanket draped disarranged over a worn leather couch. He allowed his fingers to strokestroked the thin material. She’d wrapped herself in it. His fingers He recognized her touch through the fibers. With longing, heHe closed his eyes and brought his fingers to his upturned lips, caressing gently. He felt her. For me, this is overwritten, and having his body parts do things instead of him makes the narrative laborious. I wouldn’t want to read a whole novel written this way.
It pained him to accept that he shouldn’t prevent the brutal murder which was taking place; therefore he couldn’t prevent the lifelong pain she’d have to endure. But he could protect her. He would always protect her. Good story questions raised here.
Unseen, he rushed silently into the room where he heard crying. The bedroom walls were a pastel blue. Two cushiony clouds connected by a plush rainbow were tacked to the wall above the white poster bed. Although he knew her age, he was struck by how young she looked. She was crouched beside the bed, crying, her hands clasped behind her head as if the world were about to fall on top of it. Her arms were pressed tightly against her ears to drown out the (snip) Age: why withhold it from the reader? It’s fine that he knows it, but him knowing it doesn’t let us know, so this is useless information. Give the age. POV shift at the last—he can’t know why she has her arms pressed against her ears, but he can assume it.
Chapter One
Stella Ransom lay across her husband’s trim body. At his words, she abruptly stopped caressing him. She was unable to move or even breathe. He lay just as still. At last she willed her body to take a breath. It was a strident inhalation, like that of a drowning person coming up for air. She took another breathbreathe, deliberately holding it as if preparing herself to be submerged again,; even deeper. Give us his words. It helps us to know what she’s reacting to. Considering what the words are, I think it would create tension from the start instead of waiting until the end of the page.
They were still naked. The dim light from the hall laid itself across their bodies like a veil. Exhaling slowly, Stella lifted her head from her husband’s smooth and toned chest to look up at him. He lay rigid and stared blankly toward the ceiling. To help propShe propped herself up, she moved the arm that had been draped across his solid abdomen. She wanted to see his face as he spoke;,to read his expression. She didn't want to hear his words again, but they had been so unexpected, so incompatible with the moment that she needed confirmation of what he’d said. The energy of this paragraph is sapped by overwriting—extreme detail that doesn’t advance story or characterization. It doesn’t matter how she moved her arm from wherever it was, the only thing that matters to story and character is that she propped herself up to see his face.
“What did you say?” To her surprise, her voice was calm and without malice. She should’ve asked why did you say that since she was deeply curious to know; but she truly hoped she’d misunderstood him. If her voice is calm, it is without malice, so no need to say that.
There was no immediate answer. Then heHe lifted his arm from her bare back to fold it across his eyes. He took a deep breath. Held it for a long time. ‘“I think I no longer love you.”’The action that follows the first sentence shows us that there was no immediate answer--this is "telling" and not needed. This raises a strong story question, ordinarily enough to get the page turned. But the continuing overwriting is a deterrent for me.