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.
Kailin sends the prologue and first chapter of The Convergence . I suspect it’s YA. The author does not want the rest of the chapter posted.
Please vote and comment. It helps the writer.
Prologue
Jonathan stands before me, arms outstretched to protect. Blood flows steadily from the cut that marks his eye, scarring his handsome features. Rage burns off his frame, as do thin wisps of fear. Yet I know the fear is not for himself, just as my own fear is not for my life.
"We have a deal, Jonathan Cordova?"
Jonathan exhales lowly. "You won't hurt her?"
My heart pounds desperately in my chest, like it is dying to break free. I grasp his hand, kissing his fingers. "Don't do this, Jon," I whisper, my voice cracking. "Don't."
Jonathan glances at me. I love you, he mouths. Sucking in a sharp breath, he squeezes my hand lightly, then lets go. I fist my hands around air. No. Gritting my teeth, I watch him take a step forward, then another. Further and further away from me, and from life. He is walking to his death.
Desperation comes in torrential waves. I can't save him.
The man in the suit snaps his fingers, and instantly, the guards that flanks him grabs Jonathan roughly, pulling him to the side. He snarls, a feral sound. "What are you doing?"
The man meets Jonathan's question with a shallow smile and the click of the pistol in his hand. Breath hardly there anymore, I watch silently as he points the gun at my heart.
Chapter One
The concept of the Convergence is simple: all it does is to merge two souls into one body.
Sitting alone on a chair in the middle of the room, I wait for it to happen to me. My feet chafe against the obsidian floor, a reflection of the ceiling and equally dark walls. The only lights are the pulsing white lines that mark where each black tile ends and the next begins.
My heart is pounding, but it is not fear that rushes through my veins. Excitement pours through my blood—I will be the perfect soldier after the Convergence: fast, fearless, and immortal. And I like it.
More importantly, I would finally be able to fight those half-man, half machine Cinders. They killed my brother, after all. I suppose I deserve some revenge.
A hollow ding resonates through the room, and my head snaps up.
“Good morning, Miss Harper,” a bodiless voice says coolly, “please proceed to the next room.”
In a heartbeat, I am off the chair. I wrench open the door that I have been staring at, and am immediately blinded by the whiteness beyond the threshold. Annoyed, I stop, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
The prologue is a strong start with an excellent “what happens next” story question to get the page turned—but there were clarity issues and, for me, a touch of overwriting. The first line of dialogue needs attribution—it seems to come from the narrator who opens the story, but it’s not, it’s the guy with a gun. Very confusing. For me, there are too many adverbs modifying verbs. Try cutting them and/or replacing the combinations with stronger verbs. For example, “flows steadily” doesn’t need the “steadily,” we get the picture.
The chapter opening also raises good story questions, but it could be trimmed, too. There really isn’t any need for the sentence about the white lines that mark the tiles in the floor. Keep the story moving. Good work, but there will be a need for some editing down the line.
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 Kailin
Continued (from where Prologue left off and thereafter)
"Don't! Rian!" Jonathan shouts. He pulls against the guards that hold him. "You said you won't hurt her!"
"Ah, so I did," the man muses, the smile growing wider. His eyes flickers to the side, to Jonathan. "I won't hurt her in the least, Mr. Cordova. She will die instantly." Black eyes flash back to meet mine, alight with vindictive delirium as he repeats the last of his words. "She will die instantly."
Jonathan roars. "No!" Wrenching himself free, he lunges at me.
The gun goes off.
Chapter One
The concept of the Convergence is simple: all it does is to merge two souls into one body.
Sitting alone on a chair in the middle of the room, I wait for it to happen to me. My feet chafe against the obsidian floor, a reflection of the ceiling and equally dark walls. The only lights are the pulsing white lines that mark where each black tile ends and the next begins.
My heart is pounding, but it is not fear that rushes through my veins. Excitement pours through my blood—I will be the perfect soldier after the Convergence: fast, fearless, and immortal. And I like it.
More importantly, I would finally be able to fight those half-man, half machine Cinders. They killed my brother, after all. I suppose I deserve some revenge.
A hollow ding resonates through the room, and my head snaps up.
“Good morning, Miss Harper,” a bodiless voice says coolly, “please proceed to the next room.”
In a heartbeat, I am off the chair. I wrench open the door that I have been staring at, and am immediately blinded by the whiteness beyond the threshold. Annoyed, I stop, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
This room is as light as the previous is dark—white walls, white floor, white ceiling. A single table rises up like a pedestal in the center, and it is empty. Beside it, the men stand, clad in white coats and face masks, their eyes trained past my shoulders at the wall behind me. Their unmoving forms stir as I step forward, my footfalls echoing like thunder in a room that is swept with a grim quiet. One of the men motion to the table. Fluidly, I climb onto it, and when I am finally lying on my back, he speaks.
“Rian Evaline Harper.” His voice is emotionless, and so are his eyes. They are black chasms filled with nothing. “You should be aware that the Convergence is irreversible. Should you choose to continue with the procedure, your soul will merge with another and your body may cease to exist.”
Inhale. Exhale. Of course that would happen—for two souls to share a body, one must die. I don’t care whose body is chosen, mine or the person I am to merge with. The stronger body wins, and that is all that matters.
“Alternatively,” the doctor continues, “your body may be chosen as the host, whereby another soul and mind shall henceforth share in your body.”
Nod. I stare at the ceiling, waiting, yearning, needing.
“You should also be aware that following the one-week adjustment period, you are to be recruited into the Military, and trained for battle. You will be immortal.” He pauses. “I trust you have told your family of your decision?”
The words are pure lightning, and they puncture my heart. I think of my parents’ car, further and further away as my brother and I ran after it. I see my brother’s mutilated corpse all over again—Logan’s eyes, dead, trained in my general direction. His body, limp in the grasp of the Cinder, blood spilling like tears when the metal claws raked his chest. The Cinder tore him apart like a rag doll, and all I had done was scream and scream and scream.
I think I died that day.
So when I meet the doctor’s gaze again, I feel nothing but the burning anger that tinges my vision in red.
“I have no family.”
He buries his gaze in mine, equally empty. “Then let us begin.”