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.
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--new: I've added a request to post the rest of the chapter.
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
Vaughn sends a new first chapter of Distopia. The rest of the chapter is after the fold.
Citizen Sub-Commander Andrei Morozov paced the bridge of the ship, its heart pounding. Long years of covert planning had gone into this moment, and it could not believe that this day, indeed this hour, had finally arrived.
The Sub-commander looked around the bridge, running through the list of things that had to be in place for the plan to work. Its official superior, the Commander, was holding the attention of the Citizen Chief Political Officer for the fleet through the ruse of a briefing. Other political officers were being distracted through certain activities including the one that most Citizens preferred to do in private, despite the continuous exhortations of the public service vids.
After glancing at one of its assistants for confirmation that all was in readiness Morozov took a deep breath and announced, “Citizen Junior Officer Suparon, please sound the Red Alert,” starling that officer and many of its fellows.
The junior officer quickly opened the cover and pushed the red button. Then Morozov calmly keyed the intercom. “Citizen soldiers. This is a drill. All personnel proceed to your battle stations, lock all interior compartments and remain there until further instructions.”
To those not involved, it appeared to be another drill, oddly scheduled. To those in the know, it was a signal. The signal. The rebellion had begun.
The quirky use of “it” instead of “he” is part of what seems to be a sure hand on the world that’s being created. And the last line on the page had me wondering what would happen next. Notes:
Citizen Sub-Commander Andrei Morozov paced the bridge of the ship, its heart pounding. Long years of covert planning had gone into this moment, and it could not believe that this day, indeed this hour, had finally arrived. The reference to a person as an “it” is an interesting sign of the different nature of this world. However, the antecedent used here seems to be the bridge of the ship, not the person. I would begin the sentence with “Its heart pounding, …”
The Sub-commander sub-commander looked around the bridge, running through the list of things that had to be in place for the plan to work. Its official superior, the commander Commander, was holding the attention of the citizen chief political officer Citizen Chief Political Officer for the fleet through the ruse of a briefing. Other political officers were being distracted through certain activities, including the one that most citizens Citizens preferred to do in private, despite the continuous exhortations of the public service vids. This reference to an unnamed “activity” didn’t work for me because, essentially, it told me nothing. If the “activity” is sex, then I don’t get why public service vids apparently exhort citizens to do it in public rather than private. Both a clarity issue and a relevance issue. The capitalizations used may be necessary and can be a style option, but I would opt for the lower case shown. It's proper to caitalize them when it's a title or rank used with a name, but not in a reference to that person without the name.
After glancing at one of its assistants for confirmation that all was in readiness, Morozov took a deep breath and announced, “Citizen Junior Officer Suparon, please sound the Red Alert,” starling startling that officer and many of its fellows. For me the first line didn’t seem to contribute anything since the person referred to is anonymous.
The junior officer quickly opened the cover and pushed the red button. Then Morozov calmly keyed the intercom. “Citizen soldiers. This is a drill. All personnel proceed to your battle stations, lock all interior compartments and remain there until further instructions.”
To those not involved, it appeared to be another drill, oddly scheduled. To those in the know, it was a signal. The signal. The rebellion had begun. This is a good hook.
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 include in your email permission to post it on FtQ. Note: I’m adding a copyright notice for the writer at the end of the post. I’ll use just the first name unless I’m told I can use the full name.
- Also, please tell me if it’s okay to post the rest of the chapter so people can turn the page.
- And, optionally, include your permission to use it as an example in a book on writing craft 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.
The rest of the chapter follows.
Flogging the Quill © 2014 Ray Rhamey, story © 2014 Vaughn
For the next few minutes the junior officers were all kept busy manning their boards, and reporting the responses of their various compartments to the unscheduled alert. When each compartment was manned, Morozov again imputed a code, locking that compartment down against his own, or a higher, code. Four boards had reported readiness, and over forty compartments had been locked, when the bridge door opened. Several junior officers surreptitiously glanced over, expecting to see the captain, but were startled to see, instead, four Citizen Enforcement Sergeants. Four very stern looking, heavily built Sergeants. The Junior officers all snapped their heads back to their boards, hoping that, whatever was going on, they weren’t the ones in trouble.
Morozov walked over to the Arms locker, keyed in his code, and took out a side arm. The Sergeants were always armed, as befit their station. Citizen Senior Officer Mikola, a qualified Watch Officer and, more importantly, a senior member of the rebellion, also came over and received a side arm as well, keying it with a code so that it would work only for Mikola.
“I have duties off the bridge at this time,” the Sub-commander said. “Citizen Senior Officer Mikola will have the watch.”
A couple of the more junior officers mouths dropped frankly open at this… a mere Senior Officer on watch on the bridge during a red alert? No one said anything, of course. Conversation was discouraged (although it took place) even during the long, boring, hours of standard watch. The idea of conversation during a red alert was, of course, unthinkable.
The Sub-Commander and the four Sergeants filed out of the bridge door. They went first to the Commanders cabin. The Sub-Commander punched in the override code on the door and one of the Sergeants went first into the opening door.
There had been no need for that precaution, however. Citizen Commander Spiridon, who ranked high in the rebellion if below the Sub-Commander, was sitting quietly at the desk, and, on the bed, a furious Senior Political Officer struggled fruitlessly against well tied cords, and mouthed furiously against a well tied gag.
“Citizen Senior Political Officer Vasili,” the Sub-Commander said, “Please stop struggling. You are under arrest. These Enforcers will take you to a holding cell.”
The Political Officers eyes grew wide as two of the Enforcers came over to the bed. Political Officers were almost never arrested, of course, but, even for them, being arrested was a disaster. Vasili stopped struggling immediately and gave the Enforcers no resistance at all.
“Everything is going well?” the Commander asked.
The Sub-Commander nodded. “Did you have trouble with the Citizen Political Officer?”
“No. Our Citizen Political Officer was so distracted by the unexpected drill that it was easy to hit it over the head.”
The two separated, the Commander going to the bridge, and the Sub-Commander and the two remaining Enforcers went to the next room on their list. The Enforcer, again, walked into the room first but this time stopped in the doorway, laughing. The Sub Commander stepped into the doorway and smiled, for the situation was, indeed, funny.
The two Citizens in the room were both naked, and both on the bed, and the Citizen Lieutenant, a rather hefty sperm donor, was sitting, literally sitting, on top of a much more petite egg-donor, who happened to be the second ranking political for the ship and who was expressing a previously undiscovered talent for politically incorrect, or at least socially incorrect, language while attempting, without the slightest success, to throw the Citizen Lieutenant off.
“It was having fun until the alert,” the Citizen Lieutenant said with a grin, “and if you will just explain things, I think it will be able to have fun again.”
The egg donor came forth with a few more rather choice oaths, but then, finally turning around to see who was in the door, stopped struggling and paled. Then the Lieutenant’s words struck home and its panicked look changed to one of puzzlement.
“We’re having ourselves a little rebellion,” the Sub-Commander said. “The Lieutenant here,” (everyone knew that this particular Political Officer and this particular Lieutenant, while by no means involved in anything like a forbidden ‘exclusive’ relationship, still enjoyed ‘spending time’ with each other more than with anyone else) “is one of our mostly highly ranked Officers. Well, I will leave you two alone, and lock the door from the outside. I will send someone back in a couple of hours to check on you.”
The Sub-Commander and the two Enforcers backed out of the doorway and were still laughing when the other two Enforcers came hurrying back from the holding cells.
A half an hour later they arrived back at the bridge, where everything was calm.
“No reports from the other ships, yet,” the Commander said. “But then, we didn’t expect any yet. It would be at least a half hour before the nearest ship could be expected to report in.”
The Sub-Commander went to the intercom. “Members of the Crew of the Shield of the Republic,” I said, “I am very pleased to announce that this ship no longer serves the Universal Peoples Republic. Today we have begun our first step in what will be a successful rebellion against the tyranny of that Republic.”
“All Political Officers have been arrested. Everyone else will be asked if they wish to serve on the crew of our ship as part of the rebellion. Any that do not will be landed on the planet.”
“I will be coming by each duty station to take your oaths. Please remain at your stations, as any attempt to leave will be treated as an act of treason against the rebellion, and the cit… the individual concerned will be shot.”
The Sub-Commander took his finger off the intercom and looked around the bridge. Several of the junior officers had been staring, wide-eyed, but their glances snapped down to their duty station as soon as they saw the Sub-Commander’s eyes start to move in their direction.
“I would like to introduce you to your new Admiral,” the Commander said, and all eyes moved toward him. “Admiral Morozov will be leading the colonization fleet. Now, is there anyone here that does not wish to join the Rebellion?”
“Just a minute,” I said, seeing panicked looks. “I am afraid that some of our Citizen Officers here are worried that this might be a loyalty test. I wouldn’t want them to refuse to join the rebellion out of fear.”
“How can we convince them?” the Commander asked.
The Admiral thought about that for a minute, and then opened the intercom. “Citizens… and former Citizens of the Republic, I think that I need to do something to assure you of my Bonafides. Some of you may be worried, quite legitimately, that this is all a test. So let me tell you what I think of President Roussel… my former leader.”
“First of all, have any of you ever noticed how close his eyes are together? That, in my opinion, is the mark of an untrustworthy citizen…”
Two minutes later the first Junior Officer let out a giggle and, soon, the entire bridge was in stitches. And, what was more important, everyone knew that this was no test. The Republic would send the entire crew to re-education if they had merely heard this speech.
“It seems our new Admiral is also a comedian,” the Commander said, rising again, wiping tears from his eyes. So, back to the oath. We haven’t worked out anything all that special, just yet. So the oath will merely reflect our new reality. If you would merely renounce your allegiance to the Republic and your loyalty to the Rebellion. Junior Officer Ciborek?”
The most junior Junior Officer on the bridge, Ciborek rose nervously. “I…” he looked around, ending up staring right at the Admiral. Even if the Rebellion failed everyone knew that anyone even connected with it, however unwillingly, would be arrested and re-educated. “I renounce my allegiance to the Republic and I, I am, I will be, loyal to the Rebellion.”
“Officer Harris?” the Commander asked and Harris, who had been privy to the plans and helped with the computer work, stood and swore quickly, sporting a wide grin. The rest of the bridge crew followed quickly, and the Admiral and the Enforcers moved out to swear in the crew.
Almost all of the crew decided to join the rebellion, no doubt knowing the fate of those that didn’t. Even most of the Political Officers decided to join… indeed their fate would have been worse than that of a regular crew member, as they had been tasked with preventing exactly what we had accomplished.
Midway through the tour the Admiral received a page from the Commander, “All ships report in, admiral, and all takeovers went well except for the Tolerant. Some crew members slipped through their net, and holed up for a while, in the sick bay of all places. But they managed to put them down with only one fatality.”
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