Hey, if you’re isolating like I am, get that trunk novel out and get to writing . . . and/or submitting the first chapter to the Flogometer to get free insights into how it’s working.
Submissions sought. Get fresh eyes on your opening page. Submission directions below.
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. Directions for submissions are below—they include a request to post the rest of the chapter, but that’s optional.
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this checklist of first-page ingredients from my book, Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling.
Donald Maass,, literary agent and author of many books on writing, says, “Independent editor Ray Rhamey’s first-page checklist is an excellent yardstick for measuring what makes openings interesting.”
A First-page Checklist
- It begins to engage the reader with the character
- Something is wrong/goes wrong or challenges the character
- The character desires something.
- The character takes action. Can be internal or external action: thoughts, deeds, emotions. This does NOT include musing about whatever.
- 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.
- The one thing it must do: raise a story question.
A reminder of what you’re after here. This blog is about crafting compelling openings. Not interesting, compelling. Why does it have to meet that hurdle? First, if your work is going to an agent, you’re competing with hundreds of submissions. You have to cut through that clutter and competition with powerful storytelling and strong writing. If it’s a reader browsing in a bookstore or online, the same goes—there are scores of published books competing with yours. Yeah, you need compelling.
Pamela sends a revision of her first page of Malia’s Courage. As usual, the rest of the narrative is after the break.
Malia Hudson stared at the office email on the laptop screen as if the words could change. Flagged as urgent from the new business manager, she read it again.
Do not begin your morning agenda. Wait for me in my office immediately this morning.
Mr. Matthews
Not a friendly message. Her spine rattled. What the issue entailed, she had no idea. Not how she envisioned her first day on the job designing condos.
Scurrying out of her office, a fluttery sensation filled her abdomen. Her heels clicked along the tile hallway until she entered through the open door of the man’s empty office. Seated in a plush, leather chair in front of his desk, her toe tapped against the carpet, keeping up with her concerns. What could be so pressing on her first day at work? Or was something wrong?
Hands clammy, she splayed her fingers for a moment in an attempt to cool down. A gaze out the window across the central valley revealed the red landscape near her mother’s sacred burial site, tucked in below the majesty of grandiose Haleakala̅ Crater. What a comforting sight to help ease her nerves. So great to return home to Maui and find a much-needed job. But the way the manager’s email read nagged at her, so unlike the welcome emails from the director and company architect.
The protagonist, Malia, is clearly perturbed by the email. Why she interprets it as unfriendly is unclear to me--it’s brusque, but not overtly hostile. So we have tension in the character . . . but not, for me, in the narrative. We don’t know if she has a problem; none has been included. We don’t know the stakes of failing to deal with the problem that we don’t know she has.
To me, this opening and the bulk of the chapter that follows is setup. Characters are introduced, issue are raised . . . but Malia doesn’t acquire a problem other than being concerned about losing her job. Even though she is a sympathetic and likeable character, losing a job, without dire consequences, isn’t enough to make a narrative compelling, IMO. Try starting the story when something that truly threatens her happens and she is forced to act.
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 © 2019 Ray Rhamey, excerpt © 2020 by Pamela.
My books. You can read sample chapters and learn more about the books here.
Writing Craft Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling
Mystery (coming of age) The Summer Boy
Science Fiction Gundown Free ebooks.
Continued:
Jerking upright as a door slammed behind her, Mr. Matthews ambled to his desk and plopped into his chair. Stout and balding, he wiped his sweaty forehead with his hand and glanced at a sheet of paper. “Your new job title is freelance interior designer for our condominium project.”
Not quite accurate. A knot in her belly tightened. “Yes, but also specializing in preservation of the natural environment outside the condos, sir. Mainland corporate and the director accepted my credentials as such for this position.”
Eyes narrowed, he moved forward. “I called you here to explain your new position. Interior designer, period. The director has given me the lead now. I’ll make most work decisions at this site. The environment doesn’t pay you. Making a profit does. After this project, old burial lands or surrounding sites, whatever they’re called, should be used for development. We’re here to build on open land. It’s dirt. Understand?”
Malia’s mouth fell open. Thankful this current project would build on appropriate land, the idea of designing condos in the future over her ancestors’ graves made her nauseous. A glance toward the sacred land again now made her shudder. The man expected her to compromise her values. Maybe corporate could help clear this up for her. But wasn’t it insubordination? And if Mr. Matthews had authority at this site, her point wouldn’t matter. “For Hawaiians, respecting the land is extremely important.”
His squinted at her. “I didn’t ask your opinion. Do you want to remain in this position?”
She kept her voice low and even. “I plan to do my best, sir.”
“Let me be clear once more. This project is set in motion, but forthcoming ones won’t give concern to what land is used. Your extra credentials don’t matter. And furthermore, if your work isn’t done under budget, there are no future jobs for you here. Do you understand?”
After months of waiting for her first design job with college bills mounting she needed work, but hated the veiled threat. A muscle twitched near her jaw. “Yes, sir, I do.”
Mr. Matthews raised an index finger. “Keep in mind you’re on probation and I’ll be checking on you.” He left the office.
This man was unbelievable. An unexpected complication regarding Malia’s new job. She understood financial restraint, but conceding Hawaiian beliefs of respecting the people and land in the future? Unreal.
Thankfully, she’d called her old roommate, Sara yesterday and scheduled a visit during lunch hour today. Wait until she heard this news.
Marching through the hallway to her office, questions loomed in her mind. Why did Mr. Matthews’s opinion differ so much from the mainland corporation’s view? Uneasy with the meeting, Malia couldn’t forget a job remained important for her, too. Time to focus on the agenda Mr. Matthews had interrupted. What a surreal day.
Thankful when lunchtime arrived, Malia entered the park. Sara sat at a picnic table and waved at Malia. Good ol’ Sara. Malia could count on her. “Aloha, Sara.”
“Hey, Malia. Good to see you.”
Malia embraced her old roommate for the longest moment. Four years apart melted away. Seated at the table across from her friend, Malia’s voice cracked. “I can’t tell you how great it is to see you after so long.”
Sara wiped a few tears from her eyes. “Phone calls and social media aren’t nearly as good, are they? Welcome home. How is your first day on the job going?”
Shaded by the palms with trade winds blowing her hair, Malia glanced downward, her voice soft. “Not quite as I anticipated.”
Sara tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”
Where to start? Malia blinked repeatedly. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful for the job.” She paused. “I had understood the position would include interior design with the environment in mind according to my credentials when hired. But in the future, the manager won’t allow me input regarding environment preservation and keeping the land as natural as possible.”
“For starters, doesn’t he realize there’s even a law against billboards in Hawaii for respect of the land?”
“I doubt it. Profit comes first for him. If there’s a sacred area purchased for the next project, he’ll bulldoze it to build on it if he can. But that’s where you come in. If they do so, regardless of whether I work there in the future or not, I want you to be aware. As for me, I feel like I’m choosing a paycheck and disrespecting my Hawaiian values or facing bankruptcy and keeping my morals.”
“Can you handle working for such a development company?”
Good question. Malia rubbed the knot in her neck. “For now. The current project is acceptable, so it won’t be an issue. I do feel like a hypocrite, but I’m on probation and it took forever to get this job. There’s nothing else on Oahu or Maui for me. With my degree, it could be hard to get other work, with the knowledge I could leave for another designer position in time. If I’m not forced to use sacred lands illegally at others’ expense it’ll be okay. I’m meeting with the onsite architect later to get his opinion on the condos we’ll create, too. You may want to keep an eye out for future land sales and developments, Sara. Now tell me about you and the Office of Maui Relations.”
Sara cleared her throat. “I’m fine, but there were a few anonymous threats against the OMR stating progress comes before Hawaiian rights and sacred land. They’d like us out of their way. And we’ve heard a rumor concerning illegal land use for development, too. I try to think positive, but my instinct says these issues may not go away as easily as others in the past.”
“Money, power and control versus fairness, values and human rights.” Heat rose to Malia’s face. “Is there no respect for humanity left, let alone bullying the OMR? Why should someone think they can ignore legally protected land and build on it?”
Sara raised her arms in the air and her tone intensified. “You said it earlier. The usual culprit is money. If there’s enough of it on the table, it can override a lot. I hate to ask, but do you think you could volunteer for us? You could do a lot online to help.”
Unable to commit, she understood the importance. Malia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t make promises right now until I have the meeting with the in-house architect and receive a work schedule. I’ll get back to you.”
Sara leaned across the table. “Thanks. In fact, I was glad to hear your brother is helping us with peaceful presentations to educate others.”
Kimo? Malia’s hand riveted to her chest. “I didn’t know. Kimo cares so much about others and their rights, but I hope there won’t be any more problems. Anonymous threats suggest alarm to me. What are those threats and why can’t they show their faces and speak up if they disagree with proper use of Hawaiian land?” Thinking about her younger brother, she paused. “Kimo and I are getting together soon, so I’ll have to catch up with the current happenings on Maui from him. Maybe he knows more about what’s happening around the island, too.”
Sara sat upright. Her gaze darted back and forth. “Yeah, he might. But let me be the first to tell you lots of changes have occurred since you left for college on Oahu and they’re not all good.” Her friend rose. “I have to get back to the OMR. We’ll talk again.”
Malia’s voice grew louder. “Oh, we will. Count on it.”
Sara’s discontent with the unfavorable current events brought more questions than answers. And Kimo didn’t need a risky involvement. What brewed in Maui where threats transpired? The OMR would hopefully figure it out sooner rather than later.
Malia rose. First she’d tackle her employment concerns. Time to return to work. She couldn’t wait to meet with the architect and get his take on building the condos in comparison to Mr. Matthews’s point of view.
*
Time for Malia’s afternoon meeting with architect Carter Stone. She cleared her throat as the receptionist led her into his office. Framed certificates denoting his education, along with award-winning plaques on the wall, stood out upon first entering. Impressive décor in his office, too. Mahogany wood and leather furnishings any designer would approve.
“Miss Hudson is here.” The receptionist left the room.
On the right side of the office, he stood behind a large, mahogany desk. The tall, striking man with broad shoulders wore a tan suit and navy blue tie. She’d met him briefly during an interview with the director, yet couldn’t look away from him for the longest moment. Was it his dark blond hair combed perfectly into place? Or maybe his cobalt blue eyes which might sense her unease while she contemplated how to address her concerns?
Carter smiled and extended a hand. “Good afternoon, Miss Hudson. Welcome to the company. Won’t you have a seat?”
His large, warm hand enveloped her small one and a shiver ran up her spine.
She sat in the brown leather chair in front of his desk and folded her hands to keep calm. “Thank you.” Did he sense her nervousness? The attraction to him? What was she thinking?
“Before we get started, I’d like you to look over one of my construction documents for the condos we have in progress. Mark where you’d suggest lighting for the living area.” He pushed a folder across the desk toward her and grazed her fingers when he handed her a pencil.
A warmth crept up her throat and face. Would he think she blushed like a schoolgirl? If so, he’d be correct. With her head lowered in case, Malia gripped the pencil in her hand. She made the notations and hoped he’d approve. “Here you are, Mr. Stone.”
Carter took the sheet in his hands and raised a brow. “Hmm. It looks like it could work with my current plans.” He caught her gaze. “Thank you. I’m anxious to get this model home complete and available for use soon. I’ll give you the current plans we have for it and more schematics for the rest of the project, along with a schedule.” He handed her a folder.
The man was a go-getter. Malia moved forward and took it from him. “Thank you, Mr. Stone.”
His lips curled at the corners. “I’d like to take you to our worksite once we’ve finished the afternoon break around three o’clock. Review the documents I gave you, and you can start working on them tomorrow morning.”
“Of course.” Was now the time to ask? A surge of adrenaline pulsed through her veins and her heart boomed in her chest. “I hadn’t realized the company had a local manager before I was hired.”
Carter clasped his hands and leaned forward. “I’m sure you didn’t. But we do as of now. Most of us didn’t know Mr. Matthews was coming until he arrived. He mainly deals with costs and finances, but handles HR issues and is our immediate supervisor, instead of Mr. Dickenson, the director. You and I will work on this project day to day. Once I have something in place, we’ll corroborate and you can work around the plans I’ve drawn, when you design the condo interiors. Next, we pass them on to Mr. Matthews. We’ll adjust as necessary according to his requests for changes. Any questions?”
How to begin? He didn’t mention her specialty. She’d ask. Her pulse quickened. “When I applied to the corporation, they recognized and accepted I am also certified for input surrounding the environment of the buildings, in addition to interior design. As a Hawaiian, it’s important to me and many people who live here. Do you mind if I ask if you feel it could work with any of your plans?” There. She’d taken the chance to ask despite Mr. Matthews’s comments. Hopefully, Mr. Stone wouldn’t think it too presumptuous of her.
He scratched his chin. “It depends. Might work with a few of my schematics. As long as we stay below budget, I don’t see a big problem. But everything we do must be approved. I’ve done a few freelance jobs with this corporation on the mainland with consideration of the natural surroundings, but with different supervisors. Each corporation job site is somewhat different. Obviously the company accepted your credentials when they advertised for a designer. I personally can’t say if it means your environment considerations and skills were to be utilized or not. Any further concerns would be between you, Mr. Matthews and the corporation.”
Shoulders lowered, she could relax now. The man gave her a little hope regarding use on a few of his plans. “Thank you, Mr. Stone. I look forward to working with you. I’ll return after the break.”
He stood and extended his hand across the desk. “Good. As long as we’ll be working together, call me Carter.”
The warmth and strength of his grip enveloped her hand again. Confident, professional, yet cordial, too. But could she dismiss this attraction somehow? “And I’m Malia.”
“Okay, Malia. See you later.”
As she stood to leave, a glance out the window behind Carter revealed a rainbow, a pleasant sight after an agreeable meeting with him. Many men in his successful position might have shown arrogance, but he didn’t. She liked him. Someway, she’d make this job work.
After reviewing Carter’s documents in her office, the wall clock revealed time for break. Her cell phone buzzed. Her brother. “Hi, Kimo. Can’t wait to see you. How are things going?”
“Good, sis. Job’s okay, but I’m busier at the OMR all of a sudden.”
“How so?” Malia’s brows furrowed.
“A guy got seriously hurt a little while ago. They think it’s foul play. Hit in the head with something heavy they believe. Don’t know for sure, yet. He’s unconscious. Anyway, I have to fill in for him at a sacred site here near Kahului where a big company wants to build.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “They’re continuing an educational demonstration with a violent incident in question? I hope the poor man recovers okay. But this foul play you mention is possibly directed at the OMR. I would think they’d wait to solve the attack first. There could be more trouble.”
“No can do. They shouldn’t succumb to fear. Hawaiians rights and lands are affected and many other people, too. A billion-dollar corporation plans to develop there despite the fact the land had a legal guarantee stating its protection long ago. They have alternative sites they could choose to develop instead, but haven’t done so. We’ll do what we can to support people and make them aware, but you know how money talks.”
“I certainly do.” Malia’s jaw clenched. “It’s about what’s rightfully and morally fair for everyone versus power and money.” Such a sad state of affairs. Why couldn’t people care about each other, if only a little? Her voice cracked. “I wish you wouldn’t go, but I know you will. Be careful, Kimo. I love you.”
“Love you, too, sis. I’ll be fine. See you soon.”
Speaking with Kimo made Malia more aware of the need to help the OMR and also served as a reminder to call Sara, so she punched in the number.
“What’s up, Malia?”
She twirled a strand of her hair and hoped to calm her nerves. “I’ve decided to take you up on the offer to help volunteer for the Office of Maui Relations. I’ll email you my work schedule so you’ll know when I’m most available.”
“Great. Welcome aboard. I’ll email you the information for what we need you to do. We can sure use your help.”
Malia gripped the phone tighter. “So I’ve heard. Kimo told me there’s more trouble.”
“Yeah, quite unusual, but we’ll deal with it.”
Her voice grew louder. “I hope so. It has to stop.”
Malia had enough break time left for a quick trip to the sacred Hawaiian cemetery to visit her mother’s remains for a moment of peace. At the burial ground, she easily found the gravestone. Squatting, fingers cleared the red dirt and dust from her mother’s simple headstone. Tears stained her cheeks. “I love and miss you, Mom. I’ll be back to visit often, since I’m home again and hope to stay.”
A glance at the rest of the Hawaiian sacred land nestled under the majesty of Haleakala̅ Crater urged her to smile. So glad she’d come, the peace and reverence couldn’t be put into words.
On the way to the car a few tombstones painted with graffiti grabbed her attention. Who would do such a thing? Pulse rising, she marched through the parking area, would notify the groundskeeper, the police and maybe Sara, too. No one could probably find the culprit, but she refused to ignore the desecration.
Stopped in her tracks she gasped for breath. Her sister’s car exhibited a small placard on the windshield.
Development is sacred, not the land.
Legs shaky, with the sign removed, a glance around the area showed no one in sight. Had someone followed her here, or had she been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Yes, a chance occurrence. No harm done. But a creepy sensation raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
What happened to the tranquil island she loved? Not the welcome home Malia expected in addition to her job changes. What did her future hold, let alone the people of Maui? Now, keeping vandalism at bay and others from harm at the OMR demanded serious attention, too.