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
Lynn sends the first chapter for The Comfort Ban, a middle-grade novel. Help the writer with your comments.
Spaulding snorted a muzzle of damp coffee grounds, choked and opened his eyes. Plastic pulled taut against the teddy bear's honey-brown matted fur. His limbs twisted among scented candles, silk flowers and the Phillies pennant from home. Where was he?
Last night, Mom's arms cradled him in their big, cozy bed. Was this some game? Spaulding poked a hole with a picture frame through the thick trash bag and slid past a butterscotch-scented blue and white box. He squeezed out, reached back to grab the box, and then crossed his legs on the bag to wipe coffee grounds from his face and red crocheted sweater.
Was Mom angry with him? He glanced at the box. Why did she throw him in the trash with a box of Tastykake Butterscotch Krimpets? His fur raised.
A rain-spattered car blocked his view of the street. Hundreds of trash bags crowded the dry sidewalk. He hugged the Tastykake box to his chest and knees, while he surveyed his surroundings. Gray stone and red brick rowhomes lined the sidewalk. The houses in his neighborhood attached too, but they had small yards. Mom wouldn't play this game.
A truck rumbled up the street. Cans, plastic trash bags and glass crashed and crunched. A man yelled, "Ho!" The truck lurched. He yelled, "Whoa!" Brakes screeched. Massive gloved hands hauled trash bags from the sidewalk between parked cars several doors behind him. Spaulding stood to climb the car and watch the trash truck.
Well, this is a unique story, for sure. The writing is good, but, for me, there’s overwriting as well that slows the pace and doesn’t contribute to what’s going on. Yes, this is an animated teddy bear, and the story, after reading the later narrative, seems to be a dystopian tale of some sort, though I have no idea of what role the teddy bear plays. I’m going to edit considerably and then show you four lines from the next page that, for me, would have done a better job of getting me to turn the page—no matter what the intended audience is, the same storytelling requirements are needed to create a compelling opening. As it is, the craft issues and a sense of not really understanding what’s going on stopped the page-turn for me. Notes:
Spaulding snorted a muzzle of damp coffee grounds, choked and opened his eyes. Plastic pulled taut against the teddy bear's honey-brown matted fur. His limbs twisted among scented candles, silk flowers and the Phillies pennant from home. Where was he?
Last night, Mom's arms had cradled him in their big, cozy bed. Was this some game? Spaulding poked a hole with a picture frame through the thick trash bag and slid past a butterscotch-scented blue and white box. He squeezed out, reached back to grab the box, and then crossed his legs sat on the bag to wipe coffee grounds from his face and red crocheted sweater. While the details give you more, some aren’t needed and slow the narrative. I think it needs to be crisp on the first page.
Was Mom angry with him? He glanced at the box. Why did she throw him in the trash with a box of Tastykake Butterscotch Krimpets? His fur raised. More unneeded detail.
A rain-spattered car blocked his view of the street. Hundreds of trash bags crowded the dry sidewalk. He hugged the Tastykake box to his chest and knees, while he surveyed his surroundings. Gray stone and red brick rowhomes lined the sidewalk. The houses in his neighborhood attached too, but they had small yards. Mom wouldn't play this game. The car doesn’t add to the story.
A truck rumbled up the street. Cans, plastic trash bags and glass crashed and crunched. A man yelled, "Ho!" The truck lurched. He yelled, "Whoa!" Brakes screeched. Massive gloved hands hauled trash bags from the sidewalk between parked cars several doors behind him. Spaulding stood to climb the car and watch the trash truck. All this detail doesn’t, for me, move the story. Cutting this leaves room to add the following)
"Yo, String Bean." Someone gave a deepthroated screech above the truck's din. "Want that truck to haul you to the dump?"
A dusty-brown squat teddy bear peeked from behind a sapling two doors away. The bear yelled, "Run. Now!" For me, these paragraphs add a sense of urgency and jeopardy to the story and I’d be willing to turn the page to see more of what’s going on. What do you think?
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 Lynn