Submissions Welcome. Only 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.
Download a free PDF copy here.
Were I you, I'd examine my first page in the light of this list before submitting to the Flogometer. I use it on my own work.
A First-page Checklist
- It begins connecting the reader with the character
- 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 character desires something.
- The character 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?
Caveat: a strong first-person voice with the right content can raise powerful story questions and create page turns without doing all of the above. A recent submission worked wonderfully well and didn't deal with five of the things in the checklist.
Also, if you think about it, the same checklist should apply to the page where you introduce an antagonist.
Isaiah sends a first chapter of A Shadow Among Light . An earlier prologue/chapter version were submitted here. The remainder is after the break.
Please vote. It helps the writer.
Kavin spun and drew a lightbow, feeling the familiar vibration as the bow sent a charge into the arrow. The wiry fibers of the bowstring slid smoothly off of his gloved fingers as he released. Streaming wisps of white light, the arrow flew, screaming through the air. It smashed into a robotic sentry, and the bot vanished in a flash of burning plasma. Dropping to the ground and sliding, Kavin barreled into another sentry, stabbing it with a knife that pulsed with white light and destroyed the sentry as it fell. Springing up, he spun and cast a grenade into an approaching cyborg, and the creature vanished, vaporized.
The thrill of battle surged through Kavin’s veins as he sprinted forward, his feet flying past the scorched ground from the grenade. He drew his bow once again and took aim. Seconds later, his arrow smashed into a commanding officer – a human male. The man went down, his wound streaming white light and spraying blood. He didn’t rise.
Duck. The voice rang in Kavin’s mind, from beyond his own thoughts and knowledge, deep in his primal, instinctual existence. Kavin dropped, letting his legs fold beneath him. There was a roar as a rocket flew over his head and slammed into the massive doors ahead. As the heavy metal of the doors gave way, Kavin got back to his feet and faced the looming fortress ahead, surrounded in barren, bleak stone.
“Kavin!” A strong, masculine voice called from behind. Turning, Kavin faced the voice, (snip)
For me, a definite improvement over the first version—good work. Good action here, and a different world is being revealed by what happens instead of us being told about it. What’s happening was enough to get me to turn the page to find out what the fight was about. But the writing could still be crisper. Notes:
Kavin spun and drew a lightbow, feeling the familiar vibration the wiry fibers of the bowstring vibrating as the bow sent a charge into the arrow. The wiry fibers of the bowstring slid smoothly off of his gloved fingers as he He released and, streaming. Streaming wisps of white light, the arrow flew, screaming screamed through the air. It smashed into a A robotic sentry, and the bot vanished in a flash of burning plasma. Dropping to the ground and sliding, Kavin barreled into another sentry, stabbing it with a knife that pulsed with white light and destroyed the sentry as it fell. Springing up, he spun and cast a grenade into an approaching cyborg, and the creature vanished, vaporized. The edits are intended to tighten the narrative and add pace. In a tense action scene, shorter, stronger sentences help create the feeling of movement and action. The use of “feeling” is a filter that separates the reader from the character’s experience; just go there directly.
The thrill of battle surged through Kavin’s veins as he sprinted forward, his feet flying past the scorched ground from the grenade. He drew his bow once again and took aim. Seconds later, his arrow smashed into a commanding officer – a human male. The man went down, his wound streaming white light and spraying blood. He didn’t rise. More edits to tighten the narrative. I’m not all that happy with the part about the thrill of battle surging through veins. A bit of a cliché. Maybe show us: Kavin roared as he sprinted past the scorched ground from the grenade.
Duck. The voice rang in Kavin’s mind, from beyond his own thoughts and knowledge, deep in his primal, instinctual existence. Kavin dropped, letting his legs fold beneath him. There was a roar as a A rocket flew roared over his head and slammed into the massive doors ahead. As the heavy metal of the doors gave way, Kavin got back to his feet and faced the looming fortress ahead, surrounded in barren, bleak stone. Unless this deep instinctual voice happens again, I’m not all that convinced by it. I also wonder about a military operation that would fire a rocket through its own troops. Seems like a dumb thing to do. We get the idea of “dropped” without the overwriting of his legs folding beneath him. I understand that you’re working to visualize what’s happening for the reader, but readers are capable of “seeing” what’s going on without a lot of fine detail, especially in a battle.
“Kavin!” A strong, masculine voice called from behind. Turning, Kavin faced the voice, (snip)
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.
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 © 2015 Ray Rhamey, story © 2015 Isaiah
Continued
. . . as well as its owner.
“Sir,” replied the soldier. His voice was slightly muffled by the veil he wore, covering all of his face save for his eyes.
“Lead a squad into the base,” Hait said.
With a nod, Kavin flicked a hand. Five soldiers, all in black, slipped like shadows from the ranks of soldiers at Hait’s command.
“Take it?” Kavin asked.
“Secure it, yes.” Hait’s black eyes flitted to the base for a moment, and then back to Kavin. “Better hurry.”
Pulling a glowing arrow from his quiver, Kavin motioned for the soldiers to follow him. He kept his head low as he and his team hurried towards the base. They had been pressing a constant attack on the enemy for months, driving ever inward past border upon border. They were in a civilized land, fighting an advanced enemy. And now they had reached the heart of that civilization. Now they were ready to cut of the head and restore peace and control.
Reaching the door to the base, Kavin and his men hurried through the doors into the sprawling room beyond. A thundering yell hit their ears, commanding an attack. Grenades flew, and Kavin’s squad split, rolling away from the attack. Smoke erupted into the air, burning eyes and nostrils.
Stay down, Kavin willed his soldiers. From somewhere to the right, there came the sound of shoes scraping on stone. Gunfire blazed, and a body fell.
“Damn it,” muttered Kavin. Pulling a grenade from a pouch on his belt, he hurled it towards the sound of gunfire. It landed with a ping near the source of the gunfire. A brief shout rose, and then the grenade exploded, spraying plasma.
As the smoke began to clear, Kavin rose. He gazed around the room at the carnage. He’d lost two men – one to enemy gunfire, one to spraying plasma. The enemy had fared worse; they had lost ten soldiers, one of them a commander.
His remaining soldiers stood and hurried towards a door, sealed by a force field. Some of them looked expectantly at their leader for a moment, but Kavin’s face only deepened into a frown as he went to the sides of his fallen comrades. Only one remained – the one struck by plasma had vaporized. The one torn apart by bullets lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath his body, eyes like glass. As Kavin touched the man’s hand, he found the skin already cold and lifeless.
Stooping, Kavin picked the man up and set his body over his shoulders. As he joined his remaining squad members, he saw them begin to mutter to one another and roll their eyes. Among the other soldiers, Kavin was an oddity – he grew attached too easily, and refused to accept that when a comrade died, he or she was gone. There would be no more missions together. No more fighting side by side. It was over.
“Shut up,” Kavin spat at his companions. “He started this mission with us – he’ll finish it with us.”
“He’s dead,” one of the soldiers retorted. “Leave him.”
“I don’t care if he’s dead – he’s one of us.”
“And he’s dead. So let it be.”
“He’s coming.”
“All you’ve got on your shoulders is a body,” the soldier said, tone softening. “There’s no life in it. No commands to give or follow. No words to say, no gestures to give. He’s dead.”
“I don’t give a shit! He’s coming with us, and you’d better shut the hell up!”
“Kavin.” Hait’s voice rang in Kavin’s ears, placating but firm. It wasn’t loud – even if Hait had shouted, the little earpiece that every soldier wore would have canceled out most of the volume. “We’ve worked too hard and come too far to let this slip away now. You keep that body with you and you’ll slow yourself and everyone else down. You’ll endanger this entire mission. There’s more going on here than you realize, I think. Leave him. Care for his body after you secure the base.”
“I…”
“That’s an order,” Hait growled, his voice losing its placating tone.
Kavin tightened his grip on the body, holding the fallen man across his shoulders.
“Now, soldier!”
The force field surrounding the doors that Kavin and his men faced blazed with light, and then it exploded in a flash, knocking several of the men down. Ears ringing and vision spinning, Kavin lost his grip on the body as he slammed into the ground. Ignoring the ringing, he rolled and surged to his feet, drawing his knife in one hand. He armed his other hand with his light plasma sword before launching into an attack. With so many opponents, he preferred his LPS to a single knife. Blades spinning, Kavin slaughtered three men before they could even react. Another fell as he pulled a plasma gun from a holster.
Having been given sufficient time to rise, Kavin’s remaining soldiers sprang into action, guns blazing. Kavin was a slight anomaly – while the rest of the soldiers had advanced their weaponry and wielded guns and tactical long-range weapons, Kavin preferred traditional blades and bows. He was good with them too.
The doorway was cleared in the space of a minute, leaving bodies strewn across the floor and blood staining the hands of every soldier.
“Get the door open,” Kavin commanded. He cast a quick glance at the ceiling – several surveillance cameras glared back at him. “And take out the cameras.”
Nocking an arrow, Kavin drew back the bowstring, letting the charge build. His men took aim on the cameras and looked to Kavin, waiting for his signal. He gave them a nod, and they shot. The cameras went down. Seconds later, alarms began to blare. The force field around the inner door reappeared, and turrets rotated out from behind the walls.
“I told you to secure the base!” Hait roared over the earpiece. “Take out that alarm and secure it!”
Nodding instinctively, Kavin spun and released his arrow. It flew into a control panel near the shielded door, detonating in a blast of power, and the turrets sparked once before going limp on their mountings. The alarm, however, continued to scream.
“We have to get inside to take the alarm out!” shouted Nath, one of Kavin’s men and the squad’s technological guru. “I can take down the shield, but you need to give me time.”
“As much as we can,” responded Kavin. Motioning, he sent two men to the battered doors. “Nath’s working on getting us in,” he told Hait. “I’ve got two men by the door, but only four of us aren’t going to be able to do this without some help.”
“I don’t have any reinforcements–”
“I just want you to keep the enemy busy,” Kavin said. “We can get in, but we can’t fight through an army as well.”
“You have flares?”
“Two blue, two red.”
“Shoot the blues if you take the base,” Hait instructed. “If you’re losing it, shoot the reds and hold till reinforcements come.”
“You just said you don’t have any.”
“I can get some,” Hait replied. But the message remained clear: if the base was looking to be lost, Kavin was to do anything and everything to keep it. Or he was to die trying.
“Nath needs time,” Kavin said after a moment of silence. “Keep as many of the enemy away as you can. We’ll take care of any you let through.”
“You’d better. We can’t afford to lose this.” Then the com went silent.
“How’s that shield coming?” Kavin asked, turning back towards the inner door, but there was no answer. The shield around the door still shimmered with energy, and the door remained sealed. The soldier wasn’t there. “Nath?”
The faint whisper of cloth brushing stone brought Kavin’s head around as he looked back over his shoulders. Near the concaved outer doors of the base, Kavin’s remaining three men laid in a heap on the floor, unmoving.
Reacting purely on instinct, Kavin sprinted towards the soldiers. After perhaps three strides, a faint beeping noise reached his ears, followed by an explosion. Moving too fast to reverse his motion, Kavin dove to the side as stone and metal fell from the ceiling, burying the soldiers and sealing the doorway. There was a brief shout over the earpiece in Kavin’s ear, but once the rocks fell there was nothing but static.