Submissions Invited. 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.
Shifu sends the first chapter for Cupid Proof. The rest of the submission follows the break.
“Mom, I can’t do this.”
I looked up at Mom and pouted.
“No, Eve. You’ve never been out of the house since graduation. You need to get out.”
“I do get out.”
“Morning jog doesn’t count. You’re nineteen, and you need a ‘friend’.”
My eyebrow twitched.
“Because this is so relevant to the original problem.”
Mom took a second to shoot me a glare before tossing the pancake into a plate.
“It may or may not be relevant.”
I felt my stomach churning.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Mom cleared her throat while spreading a layer of strawberry jam on her bread.
"You see, Arthur Bryan has a son too. And he's your age."
No way.
"Nonononono..." I gripped the edge of the table, and then gripped my head, "Can't I travel straight to office from here?!"
"Nope, it's too far away. Besides, Granny is sick, so we've already made arrangements to (snip)
The writing is clean, but for me the narrative is far too spare, and there are story question issues. It’s not until halfway down the page that we can deduce where this conversation is taking place—sort of. It could be a kitchen, it could be a dining room, it could be in a restaurant . . . Thus showing the helpfulness of setting the scene just a little bit. Seeing these characters in context helps us visualize and understand what’s happening.
There’s a couple of unhelpful “information” questions that I’ll point out, but there is no story question. Nor do we get a sense of what this conversation—or the story—is about. For example, after reading more I think the conversation is about the character living with a family and babysitting a child. But we don’t get that here. There is no trouble or complication ahead for the character that I can see, even after reading the chapter. I think the story starts later, and all this setup can be either skipped or woven in once something starts happening. In this page, all that happens is that a teenage person has breakfast and doesn’t like what’s going on (whatever that is). Notes:
“Mom, I can’t do this.” Where are they?
I looked up at Mom and pouted.
“No, Eve. You’ve never been out of the house since graduation. You need to get out.” Essentially meaningless since we don’t know how long it has been since graduation. It could be years, months, days, we have no clue.
“I do get out.”
“Morning jog doesn’t count. You’re nineteen, and you need a ‘friend’.”
My eyebrow twitched.
“Because this is so relevant to the original problem.” Information question/problem: we have no clue what the original problem is. And I don’t think I learned it in the rest of the chapter. Since this doesn’t meaning anything, why have it here?
Mom took a second to shoot me a glare before tossing the pancake into a plate.
“It may or may not be relevant.”
I felt my stomach churning.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Mom cleared her throat while spreading a layer of strawberry jam on her bread.
"You see, Arthur Bryan has a son too. And he's your age."
No way.
"Nonononono..." I gripped the edge of the table, and then gripped my head, "Can't I travel straight to office from here?!" Another information question: what does “to office” mean? I have no idea. So why is this here?
"Nope, it's too far away. Besides, Granny is sick, so we've already made arrangements to (snip) Defining in context in terms of distance or time would help “too far away” have some meaning to the reader.
Your thoughts?
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 © 2016 Ray Rhamey, prologue and chapter © 2016 by Shifu
Continued:
. . . leave to Japan next week."
NO WAY.
"Why Mom, why!" I cried, unable to hide the despair in my voice. Mom slid my plate towards me and raised an eyebrow.
"You're overreacting, Eve."
"She's always overreacting. Remember when she actually applied for the internship?" Dad plopped on the seat right next to me. I could smell his strong minty toothpaste when he spoke. "Even with A grades, she was complaining about what a bad idea it was."
"It was a bad idea! My instincts don't lie! Oh, I should have listened to them!"
"Hmm, is there something I don't know?" Dad plopped a pancake slice in his mouth and chewed as he looked at me intently.
I glanced at Mom and shook my head slightly. She shook her head in reply and glanced at Dad.
"She's overreacting about having to live with Mia and Ian."
Dad let out a hearty chuckle. "That's my shy girl for you." Then, he turned to me. "Eve, just go with the flow. Concentrate on the internship and nothing else. Besides you don't have to babysit Mia alone. Ian will help too. And Mia is four. She won't be as much trouble as Uncle Troy's... What was his name again?" Dad scratched his head.
"Timothy." I chuckled, remembering last summer when I had to babysit him. I’d rather not talk about how troublesome he was. ‘Troublesome’ isn’t enough to describe how much that kid irritated me. He was pure evil; the devil himself.
“You’re not recalling those days, are you?” Dad said, chuckling. This was why I liked Dad more than Mom. He always seemed to read my mind and know exactly what to say to make me feel better.
"Still, I can't believe you're telling me this today."
Mom smirked while Dad laughed, laying a hand on my shoulder. "It'll be okay, hon. Just go with the flow."
*****
After breakfast, I went up to my room to get my luggage. It was dreadful, but I had no choice. Even with all the studying I did, I only managed second place in the high school finals. I lost the scholarship. If I refuse to turn up to the internship, I don’t think I can land myself a job as a successful lawyer, ever. I most certainly could not risk this opportunity just because I had to live with complete strangers.
“Eve, are you coming or what?” I heard Mom’s faint voice. Darn, she may be cold, but I was going to miss her. They probably wouldn’t come back from Granny’s if I wasn’t going to be here.
“Eve!”
“I’m coming, dammit!” I said, dragging my suitcase out the door. I slid the suitcase down the slide Dad built next to the stairs before I walked down.
“Let’s go.” I said, walking straight out the front door.
“Aww, Eve. It’s okay to be sentimental, you know?” Mom giggled, closing the door behind her.
“That’s childish. I’ve stopped that now.” I said, putting on my best straight face.
“Liar.” Dad said, putting my suitcase in the trunk and closing it.
I said nothing and got inside.
“You know love; you won’t get any guys if you’re acting indifferent all the time.” Dad chuckled clicking his seatbelt and turning on the ignition.
“Not the least bit interested. I’m going to sleep.” I said, laying down fully on the back seat into fetal position.
“She didn’t get any sleep last night; I’m a thousand percent sure.” Dad’s faraway voice ringed in my ears along with Mom’s laugh as I drifted off.
****
Eve…
Go away. I’m sleeping.
“Eve…”
Dammit, can’t this asshole see?
“Eve, we’ve reached the Bryans, wake up.”
Oh fudge!
I shot up so suddenly and so fast that my head hit the car’s ceiling. I felt birds and butterflies flying over my head for a while.
“Damn me and my grace…” I mumbled, as I clutched my head in my palms and moaned.
“We’ve got no time for that, Eve. Arthur is coming. Fix yourself and get out.” Mom said, looking at herself in the rearview mirror.
“Them? Coming?” I asked her which earned me a glare. It meant that I wasn’t supposed to ask questions.
“Okay, okay, fine, dammit.” I loosely combed my fingers through my hair and put on my backpack before getting out alongside Mom. Dad was unloading my suitcase. Just then, the gate opened and just as I expected, the three Bryans stepped out.
It wasn’t hard to identify Mia. She was clutching onto one of the men with one hand, the other wrapped around her baby blue teddy bear.
That was sad. I honestly thought there would be red carpets and a row of butlers and maids waiting for us.
The older dude walked ahead and shook Dad's hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Arthur Bryan. Welcome to my household. Shall we go inside? The summer heat's too intense, isn't it? Come on." He gestured inside and turned around.
I, Mom and Dad exchanged weird looks and followed him.
I dug my hands into my jean pockets and let my finger caress my phone. I couldn’t dare to take it out within the radar of Mom; especially during a formal setting. The fear of being called to introduce myself to the Bryans was growing with each step I took.
“Hey.”
A masculine sound made me jerk; I almost dropped my phone in the process of pulling my hands out of my pockets. I pushed it inside properly before facing him.
“Hi.”
Mia snuggled closer to her brother as we fell into step with each other. I inwardly hoped that my smile wasn’t the reason. I heard a chuckle.
“My name’s Ian, nice to meet you.”
I gave up on Mia after she walked over to the other side of Ian. “Nice to meet you too,” I said, looking up to the sky.
“You’re gonna burn your face in this heat; or are you a huge fan of sunbathing?” I felt him inching closer to me.
“No, and I don’t care.” I increased my pace.
However, my attempt failed.
Our parents walked ahead and I tried to listen to whatever it was they were talking about, but I couldn’t hear anything. Mia seemed scared of me, and her brother wasn’t helping.
“I heard you’re 19 too.”
I nodded. Dad turned around and gave me a toothy smile. Oh, how I wanted this day to end.
I pretended to observe the scenery. From the corner of my eye I found Mia looking at me, as if she wanted me to approach her and tickle her playful side out of her. But how could I do that, when her brother was staring at me so intently? An urge to punch him stirred up inside me.
Now that I had found out a bit about the Bryans, by the time we had reached the door, I had the schedule for the rest of the day planned out well.
*****
And to my dismay, all my plans had to be dumped in the trash can.
As soon as we got in, a butler came in with three glasses of fresh orange juice. We were escorted to my new room while we sipped on the drinks.
Mom and Dad simultaneously asked if I enjoyed Ian’s company to which I replied, “She was cool.” This earned laughs from them and I saw that the butler stifled a giggle. I wasn’t bothered anymore because the room was stationed pretty close to the entrance.
Apart from that, I honestly didn’t enjoy a single thing about my new room.
It was huge, in the sense, huge.
“What is that, a chandelier? And why are curtains hanging around a… a KING-SIZED bed, oh my God,” I covered my face in my hands and sighed heavily. “I can’t stay here, Mom, take me home.” I clung into Mom’s elbow.
“For God’s sake, Eve, grow up!” Mom pried me off her and laughed. She was stiffer that a pole; but she cared deeply and didn’t brush off her dramatic antics either.
“You’ll get used to it, Ms. Winters,” the butler said, and for some weird reason, I felt reassured. “Please, rest. You must be tired. We will call you when dinner’s ready.”
I couldn’t believe myself; those words kind of made me feel at home.
“You are so kind, sir. How may we address you?”
Whoa, Dad sure knew how to speak to people.
“Please, don’t be so formal with me. My name is Anderson. Mostly I’m called Andy.”
“Andy, it is!” Dad gave him a warm handshake. “Please take care of her for us.” Mom too, shook his hand. I would admit; I felt out of place. But I’m not supposed to shake his hand too, am I?
“The pleasure is mine.” With a warm smile, he was out of sight.
A full minute passed with the three of us frozen in spot, without so much of moving a limb.
“Uh… guys? Is it time for you to leave already or what?”
Dad flinched. “Goddammit, Eve. How cold are you?” He chuckled nervously.
“I was thinking of how to say goodbye.” Mom walked closer to me and enveloped me in a warm hug.
“Be strong; don’t ever waver in the face of obstacles. Look ahead at you dream and nothing can beat you. Don’t ever change yourself, no matter how many criticisms come your way. There are people who love you for who you are, and they are the only people that matter.” Normally, I would consider those words cheesy, but today, I felt really good. I hugged Mom back. “Yes, and I will call you both every frigging day.”
At that, Mom and Dad let out a hearty laugh.
“Of course, you will.” Mom let go of me and cupped my face. Her eyes were trembling and tears were threatening to come out. I felt my eyes sting, so I said, “You know, if you feel like crying, just do it.”
Mom lightly slapped my cheek. “Idiot child, I will miss you so much.” She rubbed her eyes and sniffed, and Dad wrapped and arm around her and extended an arm to me.
“Eve, I will miss you, hon. Do miss me too,” Dad chuckled as he planted a kiss on my forehead and let go of both of us. “And be cold.” He pinched my cheek.
I think a tear rolled down my cheek, because as soon as I vigorously nodded my head, Mom and Dad both wrapped their arms around me. “Our baby…” they cooed. It was then that it dawned on me that although I was giggling, I was sniffling. There was a huge grin on my face, but my cheeks were wet with tears.
They let go and leaned over, planting a kiss on either side of my cheeks. When they moved back, I giggled, gently turning them round and pushing them out the door. “Get going already, dammit.”
“Call us every day!” They called as they walked down the hall, laughing.
Shaking my head, I closed the door and dropped my backpack on the ground.
Placing my hands on my waist, I let my gaze wander around the room. Everything was so organised; it appeared that all I needed to do was transferring my clothes to the dresser.
And then, it occured to me.
I ran for the bathroom door and swung it open. A small smile spread across my face as I let my criticizing stare peer into every possible corner of the bathroom. "Mmm... Neat," I said, closing the door and walking towards my suitcase.
Back at home, my room was one-third the size of this room. Since my Mom was half Japanese, our house had a traditional Japanese ring to it. As a result, making the most of small spaces and simplicity had become a lifestyle for me, unlike most girls my age.
There was a knock on the door. I folded the last sock and closed the drawer, before neatly placing the suitcase in the corner of the dresser. There was another knock. "Goddammit," I mumbled, momentarily gritting my teeth. I hardly locked my door, so if I did, it was when I desperately needed privacy. "Coming!" I called.
All my hunches were proved right when I opened the door.
In front of me, stood none other than Ian Bryan.
"Hey, you already done settling everything? Man, you really are different."
I didn't give a response. I just stood there, my mouth slightly agape.
What in the world was happening? What was he doing here?
"Come. I wanna show you around." He said, leaning against the door frame, a warm smile on his face.
Though I didn't feel warm at all.
'No, thanks.' I wanted to say. But that would be rude. I already had enough thinking to do.
"Sorry, I'm really tired."
"Oh, um... Okay then. Rest well." Oh so casually, he ruffled my hair and disappeared.
What?
Closing the door behind me, I leaned back against it. I didn't understand it. Why was he being nice to me? Why was he talking to me? He was supposed to act like I didn't exist. So why?
But that wasn't any more important than the cloud of thoughts over my head. I needed to assess these feelings of discomfort right away.
Digging into my backpack and pulling out my journal, I plopped on the bed lazily. I didn't know when night fell, or if I was even called for dinner.