Submissions Welcome. 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 engaging the reader with the character
- Something is happening. On a first page, this does NOT include a character musing about whatever.
- 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.
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.
Jacob sends the first chapter of a YA story titledDeep Waters . The rest of the chapter follows the break.
Please vote and comment. It helps the writer.
Acting had always been my great escape. Life’s funny that way, isn’t it? That the place I felt most at home in was when I was pretending to be someone else.
That was before I met Ethan Brooks. Our first meeting was physical to say the least. And it certainly wasn’t an act.
It took place at Manly Beach, which was a ridiculous notion to contemplate in the first place. Anyone who knows me understands that I don’t mix with the ocean. I was dead petrified of sharks, so I’d never bothered to get swimming lessons as a kid. I guess it explained why my technique was known to resemble that of a small puppy’s.
Yet there I was, my supposed ‘best friend’ Karen dragging me out into the surf. I was wearing an outrageously skimpy bikini, one that my parents would never have approved of. It was a sun-drenched day in Manly, with hundreds of people bathing in the heat. They were crammed into every square meter of the shoreline, using towels and umbrellas to mark out their territory. Seagulls dashed along the winds like fighter jets, taking refuge on the broken teeth of rocky outcrops. Newborn swells danced upon the sea surface.
Further away from the water, overpriced coffee shops did a roaring trade as all sorts of people ambled in and out of the cafes that dotted the beachfront. Car spaces were near impossible to come by, with rangers dished out tickets to people who got inventive with (snip)
We have good, clear writing going for us and a likable voice, but then we have to consider what’s happening and story questions. What’s happening? A girl is going swimming on a beach. Story questions? None. Setup? Lots, including more description of the environment that I think we need.
This opening needs to start much later, IMO. The opening paragraphs refer to acting, yet none of the rest of the chapter has anything to do with her as an actress—so why is it here, leading off the story? As you read on, it would seem that this is a romance story, which is fine with me, I like romances. But, as far as this opening is concerned, it’s a “going swimming” story. I urge you to try to satisfy more of the checklist items to get us involved in the story, whatever it is.
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 Jacob
Continued:
. . . their parking.
Volleyball games were also in full swing, and I almost tripped over Karen when I got caught up watching one. The sand was quite toasty under my feet. It made squishing noises every time I took a step, which got annoying after a while.
The sky stood unblemished, except for the sun, which coated the coastline in a bubbly golden tinge. It was the kind of day I could have spent reading a novel at home or doing something reclusive like that. I guess I wouldn’t have met Ethan though, so for the time being, we’ll just pretend that I’m not an introverted bookworm who rarely leaves the house for social occasions.
Karen hauled me deeper and deeper into the water. I’m talking tippy toes barely touching the sand level of deep, so this wasn’t exactly my comfort zone. Karen was acting naïve as always, “Your doing fine Jasmine, seriously, I don’t understand why your so scared of the water.”
As if to prove my point, a colossal six-foot wave burst out in front of us, stretching as far as I could see to the left and to the right. Karen later said she didn’t see the wave coming, or else she would have warned me of the fast approaching surfer upon it. Gee, thanks Karen. Nice to know who I can rely on. Even without a warning, I still had loads of time to move out of the way.
It was his smile that got me. So cheeky, yet seductive at the same time. I came to realise that it matched his personality to perfection.
As anyone could have predicted, the ensuing disaster was something special. The surfer launched himself backwards at the last second, and I ducked underneath his flying board. The wave barrelled over me, and the last thing I heard was Karen’s screams before I was swallowed by the underwater world. I tumbled around like a doll in a washing machine for a while, but to be honest, my head was in another dimension all together. Had he been smiling at me? We’d certainly made eye contact, that’s for sure. Or was he just a happy guy in general?
Everything about him was perfect. His olive skin glistening with the tears of the ocean. And his golden blonde hair, slightly ruffled in the wind, ah, just too cute! But I couldn’t deny, it was mostly his smile that was freaking me out. I mean seriously, I was supposed to be drowning in the ocean for crying out loud, and I all could think about were those sparkling white teeth, flashing like paparazzi cameras straight at me.
Eventually I came back to the surface. I was dazed, but I could just make out Karen shouting before another wave took me under. This time my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t figure out which way was up or down. I started to thrash outwards in the water, but that only seemed to make things worse. My lungs were beginning to burn inside my chest. How long could you stay underwater before brain damage again? I had no idea, but I could feel myself fading fast. Everything was dark.
Then it went really dark…
I awoke from my slumber with dozens of people surrounding me. I was lying face up on the beach, the sun seeming unnaturally bright. I decided to sit up, which turned out to be a poor career move on my part. My stomach went all squishy, and moments later I was kneeling over, spewing up a significant amount of seawater. C’mon, Jasmine, don’t embarrass yourself too much.
When I was done, I collapsed back onto the sand. I looked up at the sky. Where had the sun gone? Instead, two grey eyes stared unwavering straight back into mine. They had a slight blue tinge to them, but more then that, an overflow of worry and concern. They were like two mini hurricanes, condemned to swirl around and around for the rest of eternity. I zoomed out of my trance, and that’s when I realised; this was the surfer who had gotten me into this whole mess! I should’ve been angry; instead I was captivated. He leaned in closer, so that only I could hear his whisper.
“Is everything alright?”
How could I possibly begin to answer that question.