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—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.
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this checklist of first-page elements from my book, Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling. 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. PDF copy available here.
A First-page Checklist
- It begins connecting the reader with the protagonist
- Something is happening. On a first page, this does NOT include a character musing about whatever.
- What happens is dramatized in an immediate scene with action and description plus, if it works, dialogue.
- What happens moves the story forward.
- What happens has consequences for the protagonist.
- The protagonist desires something.
- The protagonist does something.
- There’s enough of a setting to orient the reader as to where things are happening.
- It happens in the NOW of the story.
- Backstory? What backstory? We’re in the NOW of the story.
- Set-up? What set-up? We’re in the NOW of the story.
- What happens raises a story question—what happens next? or why did that happen?
Kelsey sends a first chapter of Blood Walkers The rest of the chapter follows the break.
In the dim candle light of her bedroom, Bryn skimmed her fingertips across the bowl of blood. She muttered an incantation and wherever she touched the blood it turned black. When the entire surface shone like midnight, she dumped it over another bowl filled with flowers. The flowers withered but did not completely shrivel into themselves like last time. They were supposed to turn to dust.
Bryn wiped her hand with a wet rag then flung it across the room.
“By the goddess!”
The clock above her bed chimed a dozen times. It was time for the midday meal in the great hall. Bryn wouldn’t have to hide the failure weighing down on her shoulders with smile since she never had one anyways.
She perched on a stool at the end of a table in the hall and ate her meal in silence.
After lunch Bryn made her way to her mother’s chambers for their afternoon tea. When she arrived her mother was already waiting by a pot and two steaming cups on delicate saucers. The thin cups were spider-webbed with cracks.
Bryn sat across from her mother. She would never be as graceful. Fair skin, dark red hair, such a contrast to Bryn. She imitated the crossed ankles with her own thick ones and folded her hands in her lap, waiting to reach for tea once her mother had.
Nice clear voice and good writing, the scene is set nicely . . . yet there’s little tension on this page and I don’t see a story question. It’s pretty much set-up, as is the rest of the chapter. While you do need to establish the world quickly, do that and raise a story question on the page, hopefully one with jeopardy for Bryn. Maybe give some thought to the First-page Checklist (PDF copy available here.)
By the way, later in the chapter it appears that she runs away, but that is not motivated at all and left me confused. Might give some thought to that. Notes:
In the dim candle light of her bedroom, Bryn skimmed her fingertips across the bowl of blood. She muttered an incantation and wherever she touched the blood it turned black. When the entire surface shone like midnight, she dumped it over another bowl filled with flowers. The flowers withered but did not completely shrivel into themselves like last time. They were supposed to turn to dust.
Bryn wiped her hand with a wet rag then flung it across the room.
“By the goddess!”
The clock above her bed chimed a dozen times. It was time for the midday meal in the great hall. Bryn wouldn’t have to hide the failure weighing down on her shoulders with smile since she never had one anyways.
She perched on a stool at the end of a table in the hall and ate her meal in silence. Suggest switching things around to transition the reader immediately: In the hall, she perched on a stool at the end of a table and ate her meal in silence. Is she alone? Might add that.
After lunch Bryn made her way to her mother’s chambers for their afternoon tea. When she arrived her mother was already waiting by a pot and two steaming cups on delicate saucers. The thin cups were spider-webbed with cracks.
Bryn sat across from her mother. She would never be as graceful. Fair skin, dark red hair, such a contrast to Bryn. She imitated the crossed ankles with her own thick ones and folded her hands in her lap, waiting to reach for tea once her mother had.
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 Kelsey
(continued)
“Are you practicing today?” Her mother asked.
“No I was supposed to fix some of the water supply tanks,” Bryn said. Only the worst witches did manual labour.
Her mother waved her hand through the air as if gently dispersing unfavorable perfume. “I’ve had that rearranged.” She re-crossed her ankles. “I actually have you working on lessons for the next two days, there are some new spells I want you to practice.”
“You want me to try more difficult spells?” Bryn asked with excitement.
“Not necessarily more difficult,” replied her mother. “But different.”
Bryn’s shoulders slumped.
“Use what you have Bryn,” her mother said as she handed Bryn a slim volume.
Bryn turned the caramel leather bound book over in her hands. A faint willow tree was scratched into the cover.
“Take as much time as you need,” her mother said softly. “Two days should be enough time to discover where you stand with these spells.”
Her mother stood with arms outstretched, Bryn stood and was drawn into a tight hug. “Always take what is precious to you, and let go of that which means the most.”
Bryn thought she saw her mother’s eyes get misty. Her mother waved her away and Bryn left to go to her room. She picked up speed as she made her way down the hallway and was nearly running when she threw herself through her doorway.
She packed her small wooden bowls and some spare clothes into a pack. She added her onyx crystal and various animal bones, necessary for some spells.
She crept out of the confines of her coven’s caves in the dead of night, cloaked by a moonless sky. At first she meandered down the main path through the forest but soon thought better of it. She wandered in and out of trees toward the dense heart of the forest where she would be harder to find.
As she walked through the trees at the peak of midnight, the start of the witching hours, she heard a rustle in the undergrowth. Bryn looked over her shoulder and saw two glowing, yellow-amber eyes. The sound of the soft padding of paws on the earth moved toward her.