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
Nishita sends the first chapter of Perfect Mate. No permission to share the full chapter.
‘He is not coming beta….it is time to go home’ said Mrs. Shah. Neha heard her mother’s soothing voice but couldn’t believe the words. She sat hunched on a chair with a red velvet cushion; the makeup painstakingly applied by the ladies at Heena Salon so resilient to hours of sweat had ultimately lost its battle to a constant stream of tears. Most of the guests had left after some internal wrangling over the protocols of dining at a wedding that didn’t happen. It had started pouring outside now. The rain hit the roof with a sharp rat-tat-tat. Like a bunker under attack.
Earlier that day, Neha and her parents sat cross-legged around a pious fire on a wooden mandap supported by four pillars draped in red chiffon at the center of ShreeJee Hall for the pooja ceremony. This was the fifth pooja of the morning by her last estimation. Neha’s father had proposed an abbreviated version, but Mrs. Shah wouldn’t hear any of it. So they listened dutifully as the pandit recited chants to appease the planets. Most people had a family doctor; the Shah’s had a family priest. Mahesh Bhai had officiated at the weddings of the previous three generations of their clan. Her husband’s suggestions of procuring someone with a cheaper rate were vehemently opposed by Mrs. Shah. ‘His presence is so lucky for us. See how everyone in our family has had successful marriages. My sister tried to act smart by getting a new fellow for her daughter and see what happened… divorce in a year!’ Now as Neha watched the elderly Mahesh Bhai wheeze from the smoke and cover his coughs with a trembling hand, she hoped enough of his luck would rub off on him to not leave in a stretcher.
Yes, the narrative slips into backstory in the second paragraph, but a couple of things balance that ordinarily not-effective practice. The first is the—for this American reader—exotic world and culture that I was being invited into. The second was the last line on the page, the one about luck rubbing off so he would not leave in a stretcher—it promised a voice and an underlying sense of humor. So I was willing to give it a little more time. Notes:
‘He is not coming beta….it is time to go home’ said Mrs. Shah. Neha heard her mother’s soothing voice but couldn’t believe the words. She sat hunched on a chair with a red velvet cushion; the makeup painstakingly applied by the ladies at Heena Salon so resilient to hours of sweat had ultimately lost its battle to a constant stream of tears. Most of the guests had left after some internal wrangling over the protocols of dining at a wedding that didn’t happen. It had started pouring outside now. The rain hit the roof with a sharp rat-tat-tat. Like a bunker under attack. I didn’t know what to make of “beta.” Didn’t communicate anything to me. I think you mean “resistant” rather than “resilient.”
Earlier that day, Neha and her parents had sat cross-legged around a pious fire on a wooden mandap supported by four pillars draped in red chiffon at the center of ShreeJee Hall for the pooja ceremony. This was the fifth pooja of the morning by her last estimation. Neha’s father had proposed an abbreviated version, but Mrs. Shah wouldn’t hear any of it. So they listened dutifully as the pandit recited chants to appease the planets. Most people had a family doctor; the Shahs had a family priest. Mahesh Bhai had officiated at the weddings of the previous three generations of their clan. Her husband’s suggestions of procuring someone with a cheaper rate were vehemently opposed by Mrs. Shah. ‘His presence is so lucky for us. See how everyone in our family has had successful marriages. My sister tried to act smart by getting a new fellow for her daughter and see what happened… divorce in a year!’ Now, as Neha watched the elderly Mahesh Bhai wheeze from the smoke and cover his coughs with a trembling hand, she hoped enough of his luck would rub off on him to not leave in a stretcher.
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.
Flogging the Quill © 2014 Ray Rhamey, story © 2014 Nishita