Submissions Needed. Nothing in the queue for next week. 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—they include a request to post the rest of the chapter, but that’s optional.
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
George sends the first chapter of Guardians.
The City lay in darkness under a full moon and a cloudless sky. A thousand armored vehicles of the Guardians of Peoples’ Rights patrolled a city so vast that it was sectioned off into forty eight self-sustaining districts. Equal in every respect to the armored ground vehicles, a thousand drones flew above the rooftops of the high-rise apartment buildings. Together they assured the citizens a safe and peaceful slumber.
Corporal Joe Higgins sat behind the wheel of Ground Patrol Vehicle 688, District 9 (GPV688D9), trying to keep his eyes focused on the wide and deserted avenue before him. On top of the armored vehicle a camera slowly rotated 360 degrees. Accompanying its wide-angle rotating lens were three-sensor pods; one detecting sound, another heat and a third, motion. Should any of these sensors go active, the camera would stop and its lens would focus on the direction of the disturbance. Activation of any sensor also armed the machine guns mounted on a turret atop the rear compartment of the vehicle. He glanced
at the clock on the dashboard and smiled. This part of his watch was coming to an end. He neared an intersection, shifted gears and slowed his vehicle to a stop in the center. Higgins unbuckled and shifted to the passenger seat.
Sergeant Wells emerged from the rear compartment, dropped onto the driver’s seat and buckled in.
Good clear writing but where’s the tension? A story question? In this opening page all is well. There’s no problem for the characters to deal with. All the world-building, while necessary in science fiction to some extent, could wait until something happens to start the story moving. As you’ll see in my notes, I think most of it should go, at least from this page. They are attacked; why not begin that on the first page? The rest of the chapter follows the break.Notes:
The City lay in darkness under a full moon and a cloudless sky. A thousand armored vehicles of the Guardians of Peoples’ Rights patrolled a city so vast that it was sectioned off into forty eight self-sustaining districts. Equal in every respect to the armored ground vehicles, a thousand drones flew above the rooftops of the high-rise apartment buildings. Together they assured the citizens a safe and peaceful slumber. Good use of shallow POV to set the scene.
Corporal Joe Higgins sat behind the wheel of Ground Patrol Vehicle 688, District 9 (GPV688D9), trying to keep his eyes focused on the wide and deserted avenue before him. On top of the armored vehicle a camera slowly rotated 360 degrees,. Accompanying its wide-angle rotating lens were three-sensor pods; one detecting sound, another heat and a third, motion.Should any of these sensors go active, the camera would stop and its lens would focus on the direction of the disturbance. Activation of any sensor also armed the machine guns were mounted on a turret atop the rear compartment of the vehicle.He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and smiled. This part of his watch was coming to an end. He neared an intersection, shifted gears and slowed his vehicle to a stop in the center. Higgins unbuckled and shifted to the passenger seat.
Sergeant Wells emerged from the rear compartment, dropped onto the driver’s seat and buckled in. I would cut most of the above—it’s detail that’s not needed now or, really, later. The sensors mentioned do come into play, but when it happens they are a natural part of the machine and don’t really need explanation or set-up, in my view. I suggest that George get to the place where they’re attacked, and do it on the first page. The world-building that takes the place of something happening can wait—get to the story.
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 George
(continued)
“Have a good nap?” greeted Higgins, stretching his arms toward the roof of the cab.
Wells smiled and reached for the thermos of coffee in the warming compartment. “Your turn now,” he said. He then shifted the vehicle into drive.
The maneuver sent Higgins off his seat and out of the cab. While he was adjusting to the red light that illuminated the rear compartment, Higgins dropped onto the operator’s chair. He logged himself in and took a quick glanced at the monitors. He only half saw the empty street and darkened buildings that were projected on the screen, or the steady green line crossing the three scopes. He stretched himself into a comfortable position, lifted his feet onto the counter top and closed his tired eyes. Four more hours and then he would have two days off. He smiled, because the next shift was the day shift. Three months of night duty cut into his social life. Higgins sighed and drifted off.
“Contact!” announced the speaker. “DPV756D45; contact at Avenue East 210, 200 block. Hovering at 1500 feet. Return!”
Higgins was a blur of action, his feet hit the floor and he was sitting upright in his chair. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and focused on the monitors. He scanned his instruments to determine his location. “DP756D45, this is GPV688D9, we are at Avenue East 214, 800 blocks and responding. Return! Wells?”
“I hear you!” Wells yelled back as he slowed the vehicle down in preparation for a maneuver.
“This is GPV360D16, we are at Avenue North 206, 100 block, responding,” came another voice over the radio.
“Wells, we got ourselves a race!”
“Strap in. We’re going to get there first,” declared Wells as he started turning the vehicle. Having completed his u-turn, Wells activated the vehicle’s turbines.
“Man oh man” Higgins said being pushed back into his seat by the acceleration. “When was the last time we caught a citizen breaking curfew?” he asked.
“Too long to remember,” answered Wells, steering the speeding vehicle through the deserted streets, its seldom used turbines reverberating through the concrete canyons of the City.
“How’s your contact 756? Return!” asked Higgins.
“Slow and steady,” came the human reply. The drone’s controls and senses were now under human control. “I read three persons. Over.”
“Right 56, we’re now in the 600 block. Over.”
“I see you. Contacts are leaving East 210 onto North 30, 900 block. Over.”
“We’re six blocks away G688, we’ll back you up,” came the voice of the operator from Ground Patrol Vehicle 533, District 16.
You can watch, Higgins murmured to a silent microphone. No need to torment them, he thought.
When GPV688D9 turned onto Avenue North 30 its sensors came alive. The camera stopped turning and all the sensors locked onto the targets two blocks away.
Wells killed the turbines.
“We have them in our sights 56, over.” informed Higgins.
“Roger!”
The distant closed quickly. The spot light, mounted on top of the cab switched on and evaporated the darkness. Three citizens in the middle of the 900 block found themselves enveloped in white light. Blinded, the two men covered their eyes and relinquished their hold on the man between them. Free from their grasp, the man in the center dropped to the pavement. Free from their burden the two men standing bolted.
Higgins’ reaction was instantaneous and the twin machine guns burst into life. The bullets hit the concrete walls above the fleeing men, showering debris over them. The two men stopped running fifty yards from the armored vehicle that was screeching to a halt.
“You are under arrest for breaking curfew, “ said Higgins over the loud speaker. “Any further activity on your part will only add to your infractions.”
Higgins watched the two men squinting in the direction of the patrol vehicle. He watched them looking toward each other for guidance. They had only one choice, thought Higgins, the next burst from the machine guns would be the last they would hear. The two men placed one hand in front of their eyes and approached the patrol vehicle. Higgins was disappointed. He had secretly hoped for more defiance from these citizens. Well, at least these two men offered a diversion. It did end a dull tour of duty. Higgins relaxed his observation. He failed to notice that the other hand the citizens hadn’t raised were inside their tunic. When their hands reappeared, they were holding machine pistols. They started firing at the patrol truck’s spot light as they darted away in opposite directions. The guns could only follow one person. Which one was left to Higgins to decide and he had to decide quickly because suddenly both citizens had changed direction and were attacking.
“Get those bastards,” shouted Wells, “They’re trying to shoot through the window shield. It’s working!”
Inconceivably, Higgins realized that these citizens were suicidal. The machine guns came to life, its bullets sending one attacker careening against the concrete building. Higgins turned toward the second attacker and at point blank range reduced the man to a ragged doll.
“Contact!” warned the voice controlling the drone through the fading echoes of gun fire. “We have a contact behind you.”
Higgins quickly disengaged the visual scanner from the machine guns and turned it 180 degrees and looked at an empty street. “I don’t see anything?”
“It’s there and coming right at you,” said the controller.
The gun turret whined 180 degrees. The other two scanners followed. The motion scanner reacted instantly, but the visual and heat scanners remained flat lined. Higgins stared in bewilderment. The scanners were giving him different messages. “56, I have motion but no visual or heat.”
“Same here 88,” came the answer, equally baffled.
Higgins saw it before it disappeared under the vehicle; a small canister that suddenly appeared out of thin air and dropped under the truck.
“Wells. Brace yourself!” shouted Higgins. The explosion jarred the truck and the sound was surprisingly faint.
“Wells?”
“Whatever it was, it was too small to hurt this baby,” answered Wells. “Everything is checking out A-Okay.”
Suddenly the heat sensor began bleeping a warning and the scope began registering an increase in heat within the compartment. Higgins could feel his body heating up as the interior of the compartment temperature gauge sounding out a warning. He could feel heat penetrating the soles of his boots. He reached for the rear door handle and quickly pulled back as the hot metal burned his hand. He started to sweat. His throat was starting to dry up as he began breathing the super heated air inside the compartment. When he touched the hot console, he knew he was in trouble. “Wells scramble!” he yelled. He burned his other hand opening the rear door and dove out through the open doorway.
The drone’s controller was shouting. “Mayday! Mayday! Sector Control Eight. This is DP756D45. GPV688D9 is experiencing abnormal readings at Avenue North 30, 900 block. What the?...Correction 688 just exploded.”
“This is Control Sector Eight command. Can you get closer?”
“Negative.” answered the controller wondering who was at the other end. What could a drone do?
“This is GPV533D16. We are two blocks away and running at high speed.”
“One contact going away from the scene, going South on North 30,” informed the drone’s controller.
“What’s happening to 688?” asked Control Sector Eight commander.
“I see four bodies and a hunk of metal,” came the sober reply.
“756 guide 533 toward that contact you have going away from the scene.” instructed Control Center Watch Commander, Major Bernard Norris.
Norris following protocol had activated all transmissions between the ground vehicles, the drone, and his department to the WCRC (World Control Records Center) where it would be analyzed to determine if the incident was a local disturbance or a global threat. Norris also knew it would analyze the performances of all persons involved. He cursed his luck. This was not his watch. He was on duty as a favor to a comrade who had a heavy date, but he would be responsible for all the reports. “Damned Terrorists! Why couldn’t they wait ‘til I’m off duty?” he grumbled to no one in particular.