Flogging the Quill

Flogometer for Chelle—are you compelled to turn the page?

Submissions Wanted. 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.

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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 ingredients 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.

Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of this list before submitting to the Flogometer.

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?

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Chelle sends the first chapter of The Ladysmiths. The rest of the chapter is after the break.

“No one is allowed to wear jewelry in the forges,” the Fire Emyete told us in the open area between the buildings a ten-day after I arrived. “Firewylfs love metal. Unless you fancy burning loops in your ears or around your arms, leave it all outside.”

I pulled the protective amulet my father had made me over my neck. It warmed comfortingly in my hand and the taste of iron momentarily overwhelmed that of heat and dust.

“Holding it is as bad as wearing it, Shennafi.”

I flushed. She nodded towards the row of bowls where a collection of rings, necklaces and bracelets glittered in the sun. I set my amulet on top of someone’s bracelet. It sparked green, and a blaze of light surged up my arm. I jerked back as the light swirled and faded.

“What was that, Emyete?”

The Fire Emyete glanced at the jewelry. “The bowls are near enough for the firewylfs to taste the metal, but not to fully possess it.” As if that explained anything.

“I don’t … “I started to say, but she was eyeing Kebbe who wore a betrothal stud in her nose.

“Take it out.”

Kebbe’s eyes widened. "I can’t! Deste won't marry me!"

“What will your Deste think if you come to him with your nose burnt half off? Leave it (snip)

A clear, strong voice, good writing, and an enticing world were just enough to get me to turn the page even though there’s not a lot of tension here. I could have done with a little more scene-setting—what time of day is it, what are the buildings referred to like. There is a hint of danger ahead from the firewylfs, I suppose. Anyway, I wanted to know what happens next. The rest of the chapter introduces us to an interesting and magical fantasy world—but it doesn’t, IMO, introduce any kind of a problem facing Shennafi or raise strong story questions. Rather than spend a chapter on exposition that just sets up the character and world, try for a chapter in which something happens to the protagonist that compels her to take action, risky action, and set up the world while that happens.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred, no PDFs):

1. your title
2. your complete 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
3. 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.
4. Also, please tell me if it’s okay to post the rest of the chapter so people can turn the page.
5. And, optionally, include your permission to use it as an example in a book on writing craft if that's okay.
6. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
7. If you rewrite while you wait for your turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of the first-page checklist before submitting to the Flogometer.

Flogging the Quill © 2014 Ray Rhamey, story © 2014 Chelle

Are fiction readers better people?

Before answering that question, though, I really could use submissions for flogging. There are none in the queue, which means you'll just have me blathering about something. Okay, enough pleading . . .

At article titled “Science Shows Something Surprising about People Who Still Read Fiction” announces this conclusion:

They tend to be more empathetic toward others.

Let’s hear it for us! The article reports on the results of scientific studies of readers of fiction and concludes that they are a special breed. For instance, one study concludes that kids who read the Harry Potter series are “better people” because of significant improvement in their perception of stigmatized groups such as immigrants, homosexuals, or refugees.

Another conclusion: fiction readers make great friends as they tend to be more aware of others’ emotions. In a study of “emotional transportation”—how sensitive people are to others feelings—people read a story and were asked how they felt about what happened to the characters. Empathy was only apparent in people who read fiction and were emotionally transported.

Interestingly, people who read literary fiction (versus popular fiction) scored consistently higher on identifying facial emotions solely through the eyes.

Lastly, and I really like this one, because of the psychological processes used to navigate both fiction and real relationships, fiction is not just a simulator of a social experience, it is a social experience.

Check it out. There are links to studies that support these notions.

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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© 2014 Ray Rhamey

Eliminate filters that dilute the reader’s experience

While most of my new book, Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling, is updated material from the original and out-of-print Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells, there is new material as well. I thought I’d share a new chapter with you on the topic of what are called “filters.” The filters you’ll read about on the Internet are a common problem—I call them action filters—but I think I’ve identified a second kind of filter that can diminish a narrative: body-part filters. See what you think. Then, while you’re at it, treat yourself to a signed print copy of Mastering the Craft here or a Kindle copy here. Happy holidays!

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I have always had a problem with “he felt” and steered editing clients away from it, but hadn’t realized that it was just one example of what are called “filters” until a reader on my blog pointed that out. She steered me to Writing Fiction by Jane Burroway. The book cites author/teacher John Gardner:

“. . . the needless filtering of the image through some observing consciousness. The amateur writes: “Turning, she noticed two snakes fighting in among the rocks.” Compare: “She turned. In among the rocks, two snakes were fighting . . .” Generally speaking—though no laws are absolute in fiction—vividness urges that almost every occurrence of phrases as “she noticed” and “she saw” be suppressed in favor of direct presentation of the thing seen.”

Burroway points out that when you look at a character rather than through a character, you start to tell-not-show and rip us briefly out of the scene or, as I see it, out of the experience of the story.

Leslie Leigh, who writes the Leslie’s Writing Exercises blog, put it well:

“Filters keep the reader from sinking comfortably into the fictional dream. One moment the reader is hunched over the POV character's shoulder, observing the world as if he is that character, seeing only what the character sees. But stumble across a "filtered observation" and suddenly the reader finds himself looking at the character instead of with the character—watching the character as the character watches something else.”

It turns out that filtering goes beyond things seen—a partial list follows.

Actually, I believe there are two kinds of filters:

1. Action filters—placing a character’s action between the detail you want to present and the reader.

2. Body-part filters—using a body part rather than the character to do the thing you want the reader to experience.

 Action filters

If the scene is clearly in the deep point-of-view of a character, readers don’t need to be told the character sees, hears, or smells something. When the “something” appears readers intuitively assume the POV character sees-hears-smells it.

Filters back the reader away from the character’s experience by one step because the focus of the narrative becomes the character’s action rather than the actual thing the character senses or does.

Here’s a narrative example:

 Harvey heard the howl of a coyote. He went to the front door, opened it, and stuck his head out. He shivered when he felt the sting of the winter wind and ducked back inside. Then he noticed a second coyote’s howl join the first. He decided to get the shotgun from above the fireplace mantle and scare them off.

 Same scene without the filters:

A coyote howled outside. Harvey opened the front door and stuck his head out. He shivered when the winter wind stung his face and he ducked back inside. A second coyote’s howl joined the first. He got the shotgun above the fireplace mantle to scare them off.

 Here’s a partial list of common verbs that can create distance between the reader and the story experience:

• he saw
• she heard
• he thought
• she touched
• he wondered
• she realized
• he watched
• he looked
• it seemed
• she felt or felt like
• he decided
• she noticed (a very common one)
• he noted
• it sounded or sounded like
• she was able to
• he managed
• she experienced

 Body-part filters

A reader’s mind reacts instantaneously to word stimuli—write “cat” and an image of a cat pops into the mind. Write “cat’s paw” and an image of a cat’s paw appears in a close-up. Therein lies the filter created by using body parts to do things in a story rather than using the character. Like an action filter, this kind of filter has the reader looking at a body part rather than being with the character in experiencing the story.

If you write “eyes,” an image of eyes comes to mind: “His eyes searched wildly for a way out.”

If you use a pronoun or a name, an image of the character comes to mind: “He searched wildly for a way out.”

Literally, it’s not his eyes that are doing the searching, it is the character. If what I write has you visualizing a pair of eyes moving jerkily from side to side, is that as true an image as getting you to visualize a man turning his head rapidly as he scans the area for an escape route?

Which serves the story better? Which delivers the character’s experience? I think it’s the image of the man.

Consider:

 Nervous about meeting Bob, Stephanie cupped her hand and her nose smelled her breath.

OR

Nervous about meeting Bob, Stephanie cupped her hand and smelled her breath.

Another:

Frightened by the kindergarten teacher, little Elsa shrank in her seat and her mouth sucked her thumb.

OR

Frightened by the kindergarten teacher, little Elsa shrank in her seat and sucked her thumb.

Again

His elbow smashed into the monster’s face.

OR

He smashed his elbow into the monster’s face.

A tender moment:

His fingertips caressed her face.

OR

He caressed her face with his fingertips.

Examples from submissions to my blog:

Keith stumbled. His body He pitched forward

Her body She lurched forward and her hands flew up.

His arm He recognized her touch.

Not all body parts in action usages are filters. It’s perfectly okay to have a body part do something that is a part of what the character is experiencing. For example,

Billy buckled his knees when Tom landed a punch on his jaw.

Nawww . . .

Billy’s knees buckled when Tom landed a punch on his jaw.

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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© 2014 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Carolyn—are you compelled to turn the page?

Submissions Wanted. Nothing in the queue for Friday, . 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.

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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 ingredients 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.

Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of this list before submitting to the Flogometer.

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?

---

Carolyn sends an opening piece and the first chapter of Dangerous. It looks to me like a YA detective story.

Intro/prologue (note: the strikeouts are the author's and I assume are intentional):

Top ten reasons why I despise hate don’t get along that well with my sister Cort:

10. She orders me around like a slave maid personal assistant.

 9. When I don’t do what she says, she makes up some outrageous lie story about me and our parents end up giving me the big lecture on why I should do what Cortland says because after all, she is older and wiser and I should benefit from her experience. Hey, she’s only eighteen months older. Look, she does know some things I don’t know, like how to plaster on makeup and mascara and how to get all the cute guys in town. I even agreed with Mom on those two points, causing Cort to say, “If you just used a little makeup, you wouldn’t have those circles under your eyes and your lashes wouldn’t be invisible, like those tribes in Africa and South America we saw on National Geographic before they painted on their face masks.”

 8. Her caustic comments are another reason why we don’t get along. Cort is always saying these kind of mean things about me and my parents don’t even notice, even if they’re in the same room, when she says them. Personally, I think she should ship the extra tons of foundation and mascara she has stashed in the bathroom to those tribes who paint their faces.

7. She is always on the phone in our bedroom when I’m trying to study or something, saying the stupidest things like: “Me, too. What a bummer…. I totally agree with what you (snip)

Chapter 1

Cort says she didn’t do it to be mean. She says she just freaked when she saw me jump into the river, and that she had to tell Mom and Dad. In case—well, just in case I was trying to hurt myself.

Of course, it never occurred to her that the hammer would fall on my head once she told that to my parents. When I accuse her of over-reacting, misreading, and possibly being paranoid, she just gives me a blank stare, even though she is totally taking Psych 1 in school.

Her excuse is that she’s looking out for my welfare.

Hello. Like she ever looks out for anyone’s welfare but her own, and I would never rat on her, but she did on me, and at dinner that night while my hair was still damp from diving into the river.

Mom cleared her throat and said in her very serious voice. “Now we know that you broke one of the rules around here, Cameo.”

Rules? I stare down at my squash and green beans. “Which rule?” There are so many of them it’s hard to remember.

“That well-bred girls do not jump into rivers or try to hurt themselves on purpose,” Mom says in a tone that reminds me I should never forget that rule, even if I don’t remember any of the others.

It’s always a pleasure to be treated to good, clean writing and a likeable voice. It’s always good to be treated to tension and story  questions, too, but I didn’t find much of that here. I do believe there’s an interesting story waiting to be told, but that waits for chapter 2 or later—according to the set-up (the first 9 pages, through chapter 1) the protagonist thinks her sister’s boyfriend is a murderer. That’s all well and good, and raises the story question of whether or not he is and whether or not the sister is in any danger, but there’s nothing that puts the protagonist in jeopardy—her only trouble in the opening and first chapter is being scolded for jumping into the river. Look for a later place to start, the place where something happens to Cameo that is a) trouble for her and b) forces her to take action.

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred, no PDFs):

1. your title
2. your complete 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
3. 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.
4. Also, please tell me if it’s okay to post the rest of the chapter so people can turn the page.
5. And, optionally, include your permission to use it as an example in a book on writing craft if that's okay.
6. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
7. If you rewrite while you wait for your turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of the first-page checklist before submitting to the Flogometer.

Flogging the Quill © 2014 Ray Rhamey, story © 2014 Carolyn

Suspense writing tips

5 tips for writing suspense by Kira Peikoff, author of No Time to Die, on Writer’s Digest gives a quick look at what she has learned about writing suspense. It may be helpful to you. The tips she covers are:

1) Structure Scenes like Mini-Novels

2) Plot Strategically to Avoid the Sagging Middle

3) Alternate Character POVs

4) Obscure POV when useful

5) Raise questions and delay the answers

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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© 2014 Ray Rhamey

Flogometer for Ray—another pass at a first page by me for you to flog

Submissions Wanted. Just one 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.

Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this checklist of first-page ingredients 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. Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of this list before submitting to the Flogometer.

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?

---

Two weeks ago I posted two possible first pages for a sequel to The Vampire Kitty-cat Chronicles. I’m aiming to craft a first page that engages you with story via story questions and to also begin engaging you with a character.

That exercise gave me good food for thought, and I thank you. Of course, giving a writer food for thought produces more thought, so I’m back with a third alternative. I’ll probably stop doing this after you tell me what you think of this—I have a whole rest of the novel to write.

First, though, for those who missed the post a couple of weeks ago or want to refresh themselves on what came before, you can return to those first two first pages by clicking here. But please come on back and critique the new one. Also for those who missed the first round, the rest of the chapter is posted after the break. I could use comments on that, too, if you can spare a minute.

Caveat: for those from the first round, there’s new stuff here but also some holdovers from then--interestingly, the tense changed from past to present. See what you think. A couple of polls follow. Here goes the first page, maybe, of The Hollywood Unmurders . . .

I hate to admit this, but there are times my natural cat modus operandi—you know, I-am-an-independent-entity-who-doesn’t-give-a-meow-what-you-think—is, shall we say, less than helpful. Like tonight, when Meg opened the door to let me out for a prowl. She ruffled my fur and said, “Be careful, Patch. They say a coyote never met a cat it didn’t like.” I rolled my eyes.

So now, an hour later, I’m hunkered down behind a scrub oak beneath the H in the HOLLYWOOD sign, straining to hear movement from over by the W where I last saw the coyote. I wouldn’t be worried if it was a dog following me—who worries about a creature that has devoted eons of evolution to mastery of tail-wagging and drooling?

But stalked by a sharp-toothed killer with fillet of cat on its mind? That pretty full moon up above has turned into a spotlight and there’s new meaning to the words “snack attack.”

Oh, I’ll have my revenge if he eats me—noshing on a vampire kitty-cat will give him a terminal case of indigestion. Unfortunately, by then I won’t be in any condition to say gotcha.

Will I end up an immortal lump in his belly after my vee virus turns him into a vampire, thereby giving hairball a whole new meaning? Disgusting. Not to mention really, really creepy. Yeah, being undead isn’t much of a life, but I’d like to hold onto what little I have.

I slink low, belly to the ground, and peer beneath a branch.

Uh-oh.

For those who reviewed the first two versions and this one, please give your thoughts via this poll. The two earlier versions are here. And many thanks!

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred, no PDFs):

1. your title
2. your complete 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
3. 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.
4. Also, please tell me if it’s okay to post the rest of the chapter so people can turn the page.
5. And, optionally, include your permission to use it as an example in a book on writing craft if that's okay.
6. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
7. If you rewrite while you wait for your turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of the first-page checklist before submitting to the Flogometer.

Flogging the Quill © 2014 Ray Rhamey

 

It's flog a pro time

Today is the monthly flog of a best-selling author over at Writer Unboxed. See what you think.

Flogometer for Fran—are you compelled to turn the page?

Submissions Wanted. Nothing in the queue for Friday, though I will be posting a third pass at a first page for my vampire kitty story then--I hope you'll tune in. 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 ingredients 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.

Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of this list before submitting to the Flogometer.

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?

---

Fran sends a first chapter of Low Flying Dirtbags. The rest of the chapter follows the break.

A coppery metallic smell roused him. He blinked, coughed and gagged. The contents of his stomach churned and rose up his throat. He swallowed the burning bile and willed himself not to vomit. He shivered. He was cold. He tried to lift a hand to his mouth but discovered he couldn't move his arms or legs. He looked down towards his feet. He was naked and appeared to be strapped to a metal table. His legs were raw and oozing a faintly pinkish liquid onto the table. He suddenly felt the pain. His nausea increased. He swallowed rapidly to calm his churning stomach. He closed watery eyes as the fear rose. He quickly wrestled it down. Now was not the time to panic. Was it the middle of the day or night, he couldn't tell? Where was he? What had happened? Think back. Where was he last?

He'd been at his birthday celebration. It had been a glittering, exciting affair, and he'd been happy. There'd been lots of alcohol – so much so, he'd lost count of the number of refills. How had he gone from such a magical moment to this cold, dark place that smelled of copper?

He marked off the evenings events.

Alcohol.

Music.

Singing.

A bite or two of food. Somebody had offered him cocaine, but he'd turned it down, (snip)

A scary opening, at least for the protagonist, and story questions are raised. Yet I waffled, which leads to not turning the page. I think the problem is two-fold. First is the good old anonymous pronoun person—why not give a name, which tends to make him more of a human than an object? Secondly, I felt the narrative didn’t deliver the intensity of the moment that the character is experiencing. Terrible things have happened to him yet all is calm and thoughtful. Notes:

A coppery metallic smell roused him. He blinked, coughed and gagged. The contents of his stomach churned and rose up his throat. He swallowed the burning bile and willed himself not to vomit. He shivered. He was cold. He tried to lift a hand to his mouth but discovered he couldn't move his arms or legs. He looked down towards his feet. He was naked and appeared to be strapped to a metal table. His legs were raw and oozing a faintly pinkish liquid onto the table. He suddenly felt the pain. His nausea increased. He swallowed rapidly to calm his churning stomach. He closed watery eyes as the fear rose. He quickly wrestled it down. Now was not the time to panic. Was it the middle of the day or night, he couldn't tell? Where was he? What had happened? Think back. Where was he last? We learn later that his arms and legs have “long, deep cuts and blistered, seared skin.” I don’t find it credible that incredible pain wouldn’t be the first thing he’d feel. If fact, I think it would be the intense pain would be what roused him, not the smell of blood. If it did, I also don’t think thoughts of nausea and bile would then be the first thing on his mind. With the nature of the wounds, I think he would wake screaming. Nor do I think he’d settle right down. He later “tentatively” queries if anyone is there. I think he’d scream it.

He'd been at his birthday celebration. It had been a glittering, exciting affair, and he'd been happy. There'd been lots of alcohol – so much so, he'd lost count of the number of refills. How had he gone from such a magical moment to this cold, dark place that smelled of copper?

He marked off the evening’s events.

Alcohol.

Music.

Singing.

A bite or two of food. Somebody had offered him cocaine, but he'd turned it down, (snip) I cut the remainder because a list is hardly compelling content for the first page. Get on with what’s happening, with him dealing with the NOW of what’s happening—I just don’t believe that, with the injuries and pain he has and awakening strapped to a table that he’d begin calmly reconstructing events. Writhing and screaming is mostly what I think he’d do. I’d have the bad guy interrupt the writhing and screaming on the first page and get on with that dialogue. I’d also like just a touch more scene-setting in the opening page as things aren’t clear as to the nature of where he is and what he sees. He can see injury to his legs, so there must be light. Yet later fluorescents are turned on to light the room. So what is it like, what does he see when he awakens?

Comments, please?

For what it’s worth.

Ray

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Submitting to the Flogometer:

Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred, no PDFs):

1. your title
2. your complete 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
3. 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.
4. Also, please tell me if it’s okay to post the rest of the chapter so people can turn the page.
5. And, optionally, include your permission to use it as an example in a book on writing craft if that's okay.
6. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
7. If you rewrite while you wait for your turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of the first-page checklist before submitting to the Flogometer.

Flogging the Quill © 2014 Ray Rhamey, story © 2014 Fran

 

“a brilliant and entertaining resource book on the craft of writing”

A new review from Amazon for my new Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling:

I'll Use It Every Time I Sit Down to Write

You WILL become a better writer by reading this book and implementing the suggestions made by Mr. Rhamey. And they’re not vague or theoretical suggestions, either—they are clear, definitive, concrete, and 100% useful. It’s a brilliant and entertaining resource book on the craft of writing.

In my opinion, the best way to use this book is to first read it cover to cover, pretending it’s an online course or weekend workshop. Gobble it up whole, so the cells of your writer’s brain absorb and integrate the information. Then, as you write and revise, you can go back to refresh yourself on specific skills or techniques as you need them.

Here are three reasons I like and recommend this book:

The style and voice are friendly, engaging, encouraging, and genuine. There’s no huge ego behind the scenes, bestowing rules and regimens. Ray Rhamey is an unassuming guy who really knows his stuff, and his warm teaching style comes through the text beautifully.

Examples abound! By far the best way to improve writing and revising is to see before and after samples, and Rhamey has included a truckload. At every step we’re shown ways to improve word choice, sentence structure, characterization, description, dialogue, opening pages, and more. He draws from published and unpublished novels, other books on the craft, agent blogs, and even his own fiction.

The final section of the book includes the opening paragraphs of eleven stories, submitted to his online critique blog, Flogging the Quill. After reading through the book, critique these excerpts yourself, and see how your comments compare to those Rhamey made. The results are dramatic: do just a few of these and you’ll realize how much you’ve learned. Better yet, you’ll be ready to apply these critical reading skills to the revision of your own work.

Rhamey suggests “there should never be a good place to put your book down.” If you want to write a book that readers can’t put down, then Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling is a resource you can’t afford to be without.!

Signed paperbacks are available on my website (discounted price, free shipping), both Kindle and the paperback are available on Amazon.com.

How to write dystopian fiction

I came across an article from Writer’s Digest titled “Writing Dystopian Fiction: 7 Tips.” It’s by Brian Klems. As I’m interested in writing dystopian fiction for the YA market, I took a look. And the insights have generated new thoughts in me that I think will help when I get around to tackling it. Check it out.

Brian’s tips focus on:

1. Extrapolation of current technology
2. The central theme
3. Taking things to an extreme
4. A “burning fire” message
5. Uncovering a present truth
6. Using examples from the past
7. Coming from current affairs

For what it's worth.

Submissions Wanted. Nothing in the queue for Friday or 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.

Ray

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© 2014 Ray Rhamey

Submitting to the Flogometer:

Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred, no PDFs):

1. your title
2. your complete 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
3. 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.
4. Also, please tell me if it’s okay to post the rest of the chapter so people can turn the page.
5. And, optionally, include your permission to use it as an example in a book on writing craft if that's okay.
6. If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
7. If you rewrite while you wait for your turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.

Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of the first-page checklist before submitting to the Flogometer.