Flogometer for Kamila: would you keep reading?

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, etc.) there should be about 16 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page).

Some homework. Before sending your novel's opening, you might want to read these two FtQ posts: Story as River and Kitty-cats in Action. That'll tell you where I'm coming from, and might prompt a little rethinking of your narrative.

Mark's feet curled from the chill as he stepped off the bedroom's rug into the opulent bathroom. Wheat-colored lengths of hair curtained his face as he bent over a marble sink to wash his nervousness away in jasmine-scented water. He settled his bare bottom on a mahogany chair and combed his hair. Maybe his gut pinched because he hadn't slept enough, or because he anticipated another ordinary day of dodging the household bully, but a superstitious part of him shivered. Maybe a morbai smiled at his fears and waited in the soul world to satisfy its malice with something especially nasty.

Lord Argenwain had fallen asleep only a few hours ago. Amazing that the all-night revelry didn't kill the old man. At nineteen years of age Mark could barely keep up with him.

Mark put on a lacy shirt, then hesitated at a barely-audible disturbance. The sound grew into Bainswell's footsteps, and the bedroom door whispered open.

"My lord." Bainswell's resonant voice licked a shudder up Mark's spine despite the fact that the valet had softened it. "I'm sorry to wake you, but you told me to get you up at three, and it's after."

Shit, after three. Mark had to hurry or he wouldn't get a chance to eat before his lesson.

"My lord?" Bainswell's voice deepened.

Didn't quite get me there

There are some nits in otherwise good writing, but I didn't feel much in the way of tension in these lines, and don't see much of a story question. I looked ahead, of course, and, other than a nasty scuffle with Bainswell, the chapter had the protagonist have breakfast and a session with a tutor. I didn't get a sense of jeopardy in the offing, nor the frustration of a goal of Mark's. While fantasy has "permission" with many readers to take its time while establishing the world, I think there needs to be more drama here. Some notes:

Mark's feet curled from the chill as when he stepped off the bedroom's rug into the opulent bathroom. Wheat-colored lengths of hair curtained his face as he bent over a marble sink to wash his nervousness away in jasmine-scented water. He settled his bare bottom on a mahogany chair and combed his hair. Maybe his gut pinched because he hadn't slept enough, or because he anticipated another ordinary day of dodging the household bully, but a superstitious part of him shivered. Maybe a morbai smiled at his fears and waited in the soul world to satisfy its malice with something especially nasty. (The mention of "wheat-colored" hair is a point of view slip from a close third person -- people just don't think of their hair color in this way. He can observe the color in the mirror, though that's a tired approach unless the observation is connected with an observation such as needing a trim or a wash. The bedroom didn't need to be possessive, and why did his toes curl? Was the bathroom floor cold marble, for example? It's a little thing, but it would help to motivate the action and give a picture if we saw the nature of the floor. Speaking of motivation, there's "nervousness," but we have no idea why…and don't learn it. Establish it before the washing. For example, he could rub his belly because of the feeling, and then wash.)

Lord Argenwain had fallen asleep only a few hours ago. Amazing that the all-night revelry didn't kill hadn't killed the old man. At nineteen, years of age Mark could barely keep up with him. (It's awkward, trying to work in a person's age while in his point of view. If possible, find a way for another character to do it, or express it in other terms. For example: Mark could barely keep up with him; how could a man of seventy decades best a youth of less than two? Don't need "years of age" since the topic of age has been introduced. The tense of "didn't kill" would have been okay if the reference had been to "their all-night revelries.")

Mark put on a lacy shirt, then hesitated at a barely-audible disturbance. The sound grew into Bainswell's footsteps, and the bedroom door whispered open. (Several things, including what strikes me as overwriting, i.e. "barely audible disturbance [no hyphen when an adverb modifies an adjective]. Why not, simply, Mark put on a lacy shirt, then paused at the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside. And how does he know they are Bainswell's? If they are, for instance, characteristically heavy, then the "heavy tread" could give a clue, but here there's no way for Mark to know whose footsteps they are.)

"My lord." Bainswell's resonant voice licked a shudder up Mark's spine despite the fact that the valet had softened it. "I'm sorry to wake you, but you told me to get you up at three, and it's after." (For me, "licked a shudder" was over the top, and took me out of the narrative. While you want strong verbs, sometimes they can step over the line, and this one did for me.)

Shit, after three. Mark had to hurry or he wouldn't get a chance to eat before his lesson.

"My lord?" Bainswell's voice deepened. (If you want the reader to "hear" that his voice deepened, that has to come before the speech.)

There's definitely storytelling skill here, and you should keep at it, but keep an eye out for point of view and clarity (like with the footsteps). While rich in detail, the following narrative lacked tension for me…check out the link above for "Story as River" for some thoughts on creating tension in a narrative.

Many thanks for sending your work.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
4. If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
5. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Send author a comment on this post

Rewind: jump-start your novel with kitty-cats in action

I'm swamped by my day job, so today I offer a replay of what was has become one of my more appreciated notions, and the inspiration for the book I'm putting together of the best of Flogging the Quill's coaching and critiques. The title, not coincidentally, is Jump-start Your Novel with Kitty-cats in Action.

Back when I had an agent, on a New Year's Eve he mentioned that he had just received a rejection for one of his other client's novels from an editor with whom it had been for six months. I immediately pictured the editor zooming through a stack of manuscripts on his/her desk just before the holidays, trying to clear it for the coming year. Not gripped by the first quick, expert glance at the manuscript's first page, the harassed editor moved on.

This brings home in a real way my belief that it is the very FIRST page that determines whether or not a busy agent or editor reads more. I think your opening page has to be COMPELLING. To the right is a typical agent/editor, terminally weary of openings that fail and dreaming of finding just one that grabs her by her furry little ears.

There are straightforward techniques for reaching out to a harried mind and provoking a moment's attention. One is to open your story in the midst of something happening. Opening in the middle of action (versus
placidly setting the scene) is a key to engaging a reader.

Hairball raced across the clover, leaping honeybees, never taking his gaze from Barfie, praying her grip would hold.

This opening raises immediate story questions that a reader will want to know the answers to -- why is Hairball racing? Who is Barfie? What is Barfie? What do they have to do with each other? What's Barfie's scary-sounding problem?

Unusual circumstances added to the action intensify interest. You've heard of "fish out of water" stories…how about "cat in water?"

Up to his dewclaws in the cold wetness of the stream, Hairball wanted to yowl his discomfort, but he had to choke back all sound and keep his eyes on his prey.

Opening with action that depicts a significant challenge to a character will keep a reader moving down the page, too.

Hairball eyed the tree trunk's towering height. It was an impossible climb. He was too small, too weak. But if he didn't climb, Barfie would fall to her death.

Plenty of story questions raised there. But we can do better. Now let's open with action combined with jeopardy for increased tension.

Barfie dug her claws into the branch, struggling to keep her balance. She dared not look down; her last glance at the dizzying height had almost sent her tumbling. Her ears caught a cracking sound…the branch was tearing away from the trunk.

Yeeks! Now to really create opening tension by combining action and jeopardy with conflict.

Hairball arched his back and hissed at the beast. It was easily three times his size, an alien species that had been stalking him and now crouched, poised to spring. There was no place to run. He extended his claws…

Don't get me wrong. Not all openings have to begin with physical action…but they MUST begin to raise story questions immediately. Remember that thoughts are action, too.

Hairball wondered if Barfie's soul now rested on one of the puffy pillows in the sky, freed from her broken body. How would he face her mother after he'd sworn they would be safe?

The point of all this is that your opening page narrative has to first be vivid enough to catch the reader's thoughts and then compel reading on by raising story questions. I'll tell you something else -- I think that, for a new novelist to break in,
every chapter ought to do the same thing.

Seems like a story about kitty-cats ought to have a happy ending, so here are Hairball and Barfie after their adventures are done. You supply the narrative in the comments.

For what it's worth.

Ray

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© 2008 Ray Rhamey

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Yippee! I have to scrap half of my novel!

As some of you know, I have a novel titled We the Enemy that I've been giving away as an e-book because I think it has something to contribute to what we think about the right to bear arms and other concerns in today's society.

But that's not enough -- I want to get it published, even if I have to do it myself, so that perhaps it can reach more people. But I know that I have limitations as a reader of my own writing, so I've invested in an editor, a pro who is a former editor and publisher for a couple of major publishing imprints.

Some history

It's not that this novel hasn't been reviewed and worked on. It has

• gone through two critique groups
• been rewritten with direction from a literary agent
• scored a newbie literary agent who couldn't sell it
• been read by a number of people, garnering mostly very positive reviews and sometimes the word "inspiring"
• called a page-turner with interesting characters (though not for all)
• been tweaked, revised, polished, rewritten for years. Tens of thousands of words have been tossed, more tens of thousands added, characters have been cut, story elements trimmed…and on.

For most readers, this novel can be safely rated as "good," at the least. But, still, I'd never had truly professional eyes critique it.

There was good news and bad news

I thought I'd share portions of his editorial letter evaluating the manuscript as, perhaps, a way of helping you understand the real value of the fresh, professional eyes of an editor. First of all, I felt validated. Secondly, the value of a pro's insights became immediately clear.

Here's what my new editor says:

"I think you have a very strong premise here, that you write scenes crisply, and that you do a very good job of presenting the ambiguities of your scenario. You've offered a great deal to think about in this novel, and I think you will start quite a few conversations with it.

"Before you can get there, though, I think you need to take some steps to bolster the novel editorially.

"You had me fired up for most of the first third of the novel. You introduced me to interesting characters, you presented a compelling situation, you gave me a cause to care about, and you made me worry that this cause was at risk. I think you laid the groundwork for a high-concept speculative thriller. From there, though, I think you slipped off course.

"The deal you made with the reader in the early segments of this novel was that you were going to show us the story of a political revolution, the ramifications of that revolution, and what happens when the old guard attempts to squash the revolution. In some ways, you do deliver that story. The revolution suffers a great loss, and the old guard gets its comeuppance. However, I think the approach you took to get there makes the book feel smaller than it could be."

After specific notes on logic issues, character concerns, and plot issues, he concluded this way:

"I believe you have some work to do to take this to the next level, but I think it is worth doing. I like the concept for this novel very much and I think you can generate some passionate word-of-mouth with it. But you can only do this if you make the scenario intensely believable and you populate the novel with interesting and complex characters."

It's that last part that I think can be most instructional for all my fellow writers, especially of speculative fiction.

And here's the thing I think you can learn about having an editor critique your manuscript: I had this story pretty much the way I wanted it. And it seemed to be working with readers. I had good reason to be content. To be honest, I hoped for confirmation when I sent the manuscript to the editor.

Sound familiar? Now, because I know that any critique is subjective, it would be valid for me to ignore the input. I'm not going to because these particular "fresh eyes" are highly professional, and the mind behind them has vetted scores of published novels, and rejected scores more.

Even though I had things the way I wanted them, it turns out that my way may not be the most effective way of telling the story and engaging the reader. The editor found the opening third very involving, and wants the novel to end the way it does now, but the story road in between needs to be upgraded from two lanes to a freeway.

I guess the point is that when you feel satisfied with your novel, there's still plenty of room for doubt, and a need for a professional critique. I'm a member of a writers group that includes published authors whose agents provide that kind of input, and it often causes extensive revisions.

I have lots of work to do (like ripping out characters, re-imagining most of the middle of the novel, and making the older pieces still add up).

But I'm looking forward to it, and my mind is already bubbling with ways to do it. After my rewrite, the deal includes another read and review. Wish me luck.

For what it's worth,

Ray

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
4. If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
5. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Send author a comment on this post

Flogometer for Jack: would you keep reading?

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, etc.) there should be about 16 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page).

Some homework. Before sending your novel's opening, you might want to read these two FtQ posts: Story as River and Kitty-cats in Action. That'll tell you where I'm coming from, and might prompt a little rethinking of your narrative.

After watching the ten o'clock local news from a barstool, Jack knew he wouldn't be going back to his office anytime soon. All that was left of Jack Farber's Private Investigation Agency were some pipes sticking up from the foundation and half of a toilet.

Running out of options, Jack reached for his cell phone and called his ex-partner who owed him big time. He still carried the bullet with her name on it and the scar to prove it.

"Detective Darnell."

"Hello Maggie. It's Jack."

"Where in the hell are you, Jack? I've got an APB out on you."

"Some stinking dive called The Bloody Bucket," Jack said tracing his finger along the
sticky bar.

"Good God, what are you doing in that death trap? If you don't have a gun when you walk in, management issues you one."

"I brought my own."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I need a favor. I need to know what the police found in the rubble."

"I was told the fire investigators found two suspicious items: a pipe wrench lying next to. . .

I wanted more

A good, old-fashioned, smart-ass private eye voice and good story questions made this one an easy call. Nice start. Still, I do have some notes.

After watching the ten o'clock local news from a barstool, Jack knew he wouldn't be going back to his office anytime soon. All that was left of Jack Farber's Private Investigation Agency were some pipes sticking up from the foundation and half of a toilet. (A detail like "local" isn't really needed; all the reader needs is that he was watching news. This is a tiny example of overwriting. And "some" is vague and not really necessary, IMO.)

Running out of options, Jack reached for his cell phone and called his ex-partner. She who owed him big time; he. He still carried the bullet with her name on it and the scar to prove it. (I wonder about "reached for." It implies that the cell phone is sitting on the bar, but isn't clear. A thought: you could do more to characterize their relationship if you simply have him press autodial on his cell phone.)

"Detective Darnell." (I suggest you characterize her voice with description preceding the speech. It's late -- is she sleeply? Alert? Is her voice husky, sexy, sweet, what? Or the sound of her voice could be reassuring, or call up an image of her face. This is a chance to characterize her with little effort, but it will enrich the story.)

"Hello, Maggie. It's Jack."

"Where in the hell are you, Jack? I've got an APB out on you." (In life, and in good dialogue, people don't usually refer to someone very familiar to them by name in a conversation.)

Jack traced his finger along the sticky bar. "Some stinking dive called The Bloody Bucket." Jack said tracing his finger along the sticky bar. (I moved the action beat, which was a good one, just to break up the dialogue. And I think "said tracing" is not artful or crisp.)

"Good God, what are you doing in that death trap? If you don't have a gun when you walk in, management issues you one." (This snappy dialogue promises fun ahead.)

"I brought my own."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I need a favor. I need to know what the police found in the rubble."

"I was told the fire investigators found two suspicious items: a pipe wrench lying next to. . .

Good stuff. I suggest you avoid a long string of nothing but quoted dialogue -- use action beats to characterize and do other things as it goes on. See my post on Cooking up some tasty beats.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
4. If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
5. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Send author a comment on this post

Flogometer for Jan: would you keep reading?

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, etc.) there should be about 16 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page).

Some homework. Before sending your novel's opening, you might want to read these two FtQ posts: Story as River and Kitty-cats in Action. That'll tell you where I'm coming from, and might prompt a little rethinking of your narrative.

'Michael's gone!' Julia screamed into the payphone outside Flinders Street Train Station.

'Calm down, Mrs Stewart. She'll be with you shortly.'

Julia bristled at the matter-of-factness of the receptionist's voice. 'I don't care if she's with the Queen. My husband is missing. I think I'm losing my mind.'

'Please hold and I'll see if I can interrupt.'

Click. Mozart replaced the receptionist's voice. The familiar hold music from the past sounded surreal against the background tram and traffic noise of the Melbourne thoroughfare.
A pedestrian bumped into her daughter's stroller, turning Shellie to tears.

'Stop that, you bad girl!' Julia rolled the stroller under the phone box, putting her child out of the way of the Friday afternoon commuters.

Shellie reached out and cried louder.

'Arrgghh!' Julia dropped the receiver, picked up the three year old and settled her on her hip. Shellie quieted, distracted now by an earring.

Ignoring her, Julia reached for the dangling receiver, and found silence. 'Hello? Hello!' Don't be gone. I don't have any more change.

'I thought I'd lost you.' The receptionist's cheerfulness was enough to piss off anyone.

I wanted to see what was next

Good story questions, good writing, a likeable voice -- all contributed to my turning the page. I like starting with a scene, and the very first line introduces an element of tension. Still, you know how nit-picky I can be. Some thoughts:

'Michael's gone!' Julia screamed into the payphone outside Flinders Street Train Station. (If you want the reader to get that 'Michael's gone!' is screamed, then you need to clue the reader first, i.e. Julia screamed, 'Michael's gone!' into the payphone outside Flinders Street Train Station. I felt naming the train station felt like an authorial intrusion here. I'd leave it at the pay phone and mention the train station later.)

'Calm down, Mrs Stewart. She'll be with you shortly.'

Julia bristled at the matter-of-factness of the receptionist's voice. 'I don't care if she's with the Queen. My husband is missing. I think I'm losing my mind.' (While this seems okay, I wonder if it's enough. As it turns out, her husband has been missing for two hours, and she's pretty much panicked. Would she "bristle" here? A thoughtstarter: what about an internal monologue rhetorical question, something like: How could the damned receptionist be so matter-of-fact? 'I don't care…etc.)

'Please hold and I'll see if I can interrupt.'

Click. Mozart replaced the receptionist's voice. The familiar hold music from the past sounded surreal against the background tram noise outside Flinders Street Train Station and the traffic noise of the Melbourne thoroughfare.

A pedestrian bumped into her daughter's stroller, turning Shellie to tears.

'Stop that, you bad girl!' Julia rolled the stroller under the phone box, putting her child out of the way of the Friday afternoon commuters.

Shellie reached out and cried louder.

'Arrgghh!' Julia dropped the receiver, picked up the three-year-old and settled her on her hip. Shellie quieted, distracted now by an earring. (The "distracted" part is telling where this could be shown. For example: Shellie toyed with an earring and quieted.)

Ignoring her, Julia reached for the dangling receiver and found silence. 'Hello? Hello!' Don't be gone. I don't have any more change.

'I thought I'd lost you.' The receptionist's cheerfulness was enough to piss off anyone. (While I agree that the tone might piss anyone off, I don't think that a woman in a state of panic would be thinking of that in this way. Thoughtstarter: what about something like Julia wanted to scream at the cheery voice, but choked it back. as a way to show her emotions and frame of mind?)

Flogometer for L.L.: would you keep reading?
originally posted: April 28, 2008

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, etc.) there should be about 16 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page).

Some homework. Before sending your novel's opening, you might want to read these two FtQ posts: Story as River and Kitty-cats in Action. That'll tell you where I'm coming from, and might prompt a little rethinking of your narrative.

"Hello, my handsome!"

Perrie Stevens sat on her heels to pick up a lithe black tiger-striped cat. He welcomed her with a scant audible purr and rubbed his nose to hers. She returned a loving kiss on his forehead and lowered him back to the floor. He trotted off toward the living room as Perrie turned to close the door.

As she followed after her little house-mate, Perrie removed a small red parcel from her handbag which she tossed, along with her keys into an overstuffed chair. She kicked off her shoes and walked to the far side of the living room to turn on the stereo. An old track from Silent Lion kept her momentarily transfixed. How fortunate for the Allies that music so influenced her life. Though Perrie always heard the voices we needed her to hear, it took much longer to make her understand why. She listened now, not so much to the words -- or even the music -- but to the voice of a stranger, only of recent remembered as her brother.

When the FM DJ interrupted and went to an obligatory commercial, the ethereal connection was lost. Perrie turned, and without second thought, headed toward her studio upstairs. Simultaneously, those of us involved in her Awakening, gathered inter-dimensionally, Within.

Half of each step shelved part of Perrie's eclectic library. As she progressed past the section of books on art and design, a small dark blur rushed by and took his usual place of dignified victory at. . .

Despite interesting tidbits, I didn't move on
It was a craft issue that stopped me. There's good writing here, and that interesting little reference to "we" right in the midst of what appears to be a third-person narrative, and the reference by an omniscient narrator to her "Awakening." The craft issue was overwriting. My notes to L.L.:

"Hello, my handsome!"

Perrie Stevens sat on her heels to pick up a lithe black tiger-striped cat. He welcomed her with a scant audible purr and rubbed his nose to hers. She returned a loving kissed on his forehead and lowered him back to the floor. He trotted off toward the living room as Perrie turned to close the door. (A cat, by nature, is lithe: unnecessary. "Scant audible" doesn't seem needed, and is wordy -- if the purr must be characterized, and I don't see why, something like "soft" would do. She can't really be retuning a kiss since she didn't actually receive one, and I felt that her kissing his forehead showed us a loving affection, which made "loving" here an instance of telling. The cat trotting in and her turning to close the door is just overwriting, detail that's not needed.)

As she followed after her little house-mate into her living room, Perrie removed a small red parcel from her handbag which she and tossed, along with her keys it into an overstuffed chair. She kicked off her shoes and walked to the far side of the living room to turned on the stereo. An old track from Silent Lion kept her momentarily transfixed her. How fortunate for the Allies that music so influenced her life. Though Perrie always heard the voices we needed her to hear, it took much longer to make her understand why. She listened now, not so much to the words -- or even the music -- but to the voice of a stranger, only of recent remembered as her brother. ("Small" is a "conclusion" word and not needed. Also, if it comes from a handbag, the reader will understand that it's small enough to fit into a handbag. By the way, L.L., you set up a continuity problem with the parcel on the chair -- later you have her open it upstairs, but she never picks it up from the chair. The detail about walking across the room just isn't needed (overwriting), nor is the fact that she tossed her keys onto the chair.)

When the FM DJ interrupted andstation went to an obligatory commercial, the ethereal connection was lost. Perrie turned, and without second thought, headed toward her studio upstairs. Simultaneously, those of us involved in her Awakening, gathered inter-dimensionally, Within. (The "FM DJ" stopped me as I had to translate what the initials meant. Doesn't seem necessary -- and would a DJ really interrupt a song? Doing something without a thought isn't needed, it seems to me -- if the narrator wants to make a point that she doesn't notice the "voices," then the narrator can let us know.)

Half of each stair step shelved part of Perrie's eclectic library. As she progressed past passed the section of books on art and design, a small dark blur Name of Cat rushed by and took his usual place of dignified victory at. . . "Eclectic" is another conclusion word. If the cat was given a name when introduced, then "small dark blur," an unclear description, wouldn't be needed.)

I think there's an interesting story here, but in my view -- a subjective one, of course -- there's too much unneeded detail cluttering the narrative and slowing the pace. This style continued, and for me the narrative trudged, burdened with minutia that I didn't care about and that didn't seem to contribute to the story.

My advice, L.L., is to keep at it, but use that delete key. I don't know if this will help, but try reading it aloud. Sometimes when I do this for my own stuff I'll find my thoughts wandering, a sure sign of narrative that should be tightened.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
4. If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
5. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.

ARCHIVES .

© 2008 Ray Rhamey

Send author a comment on this post

Flogometer for Chris: would you keep reading?
originally posted: April 25, 2008

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, etc.) there should be about 16 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page).

Some homework. Before sending your novel's opening, you might want to read these two FtQ posts: Story as River and Kitty-cats in Action. That'll tell you where I'm coming from, and might prompt a little rethinking of your narrative.

Paul felt a mournful tugging from the empty seat beside him. His wife Patty should be there. She should be reading to him and Scott in her breathy voice. Scott should be interrupting her with questions that she was so good at answering. The three of them should be taking turns looking out the window, delighting at the sight of the hills, the pine trees, the back-lit creeks that coursed in snaky trails to the horizon.

And Patty should be reaching out to hold his hand because going back home would remind them what they had done to Tom, Paul's younger brother. They hadn't meant to hurt him, but they had. Living in Minnesota, a world away from their beloved mountains, was as much about exile as it was about Paul's job.

Patty wasn't exiled anymore, though. She died six months ago and Paul had buried her in northern Georgia, where they grew up. He chose a plot where she could look up Isabel Mountain's flanks to see the sky, her favorite view. He imagined her at the cemetery, sitting in a folding chair beside her grave, reading The Prince of Tides, her favorite novel. She wore light blue jeans that flared at her bare feet. Her white blouse rippled in the breeze. Her long sandy hair hung loose at her shoulders. But the image was shattered, as always, by the memory of touching her cold forehead at the morgue when he'd gone to identify her. He'd relived that . . .

I turned the page
It was the last paragraph that pulled me forward despite some craft issues in the first two. I wondered where Chris was going with this, how the character would deal with his sense of loss. But there are some issues…

Paul felt a mournful tugging from the empty seat beside him. His wife Patty should be there. She should be reading to him and Scott in her breathy voice. Scott should be interrupting her with questions that she was so good at answering. The three of them should be taking turns looking out the window, delighting at the sight of the hills, the pine trees, the back-lit creeks that coursed in snaky trails to the horizon. (One lack in this opening is that it didn't establish that they were on an airliner. It could have been done in the last sentence, for example: …delighting at the sight 50,000 feet below -- the hills, the pine trees…etc. I'm always uncomfortable with phrases like "His wife Patty" because they're not in the natural point of view of the character, and thus take me out of his experience. He would just be thinking "Patty." The information could be slipped in other ways. Less intrusive would be: His wife should be reading…etc. or perhaps Scott should be interrupting his mother with questions…etc.)

And Patty should be reaching out to hold his hand because going back home would remind them what they had done to Tom, Paul's younger brother. They hadn't meant to hurt him, but they had. Living in Minnesota, a world away from their beloved mountains, was as much about exile as it was about Paul's job. (Same thing here with "Paul's younger brother." Doesn't seem like it's key to know that Tom was younger, but the brother part is important. Still, Paul would just think "Tom." A smoother way would be: They hadn't meant to hurt his brother, but …etc. Also, I don't see a connection between exile and hurting his brother, unless it was self-imposed to avoid contact with him. That could be more clear, perhaps. However, this did raise a good story question.)

Patty wasn't exiled anymore, though. She died six months ago and Paul had buried her in northern Georgia, where they grew up. He'd chosen a plot where she could look up Isabel Mountain's flanks to see the sky, her favorite view. He imagined her at the cemetery, sitting in a folding chair beside her grave, reading The Prince of Tides, her favorite novel. She wore light blue jeans that flared at her bare feet. Her white blouse rippled in the breeze. Her long sandy hair hung loose at her shoulders. But the image was shattered, as always, by the memory of touching her cold forehead at the morgue when he'd gone to identify her. He'd relived that . . .(The first two sentences are the author delivering information, not the narrative delivering Paul's experience. Try to work this in the way he might think it. For example: Patty's exile had ended when she died, and now he was ending his six months later, returning to where they'd grown up in Georgia, where he had buried her. He'd chosen a plot…etc.)

The writing is clean, but could be tighter. Watch out for overwriting, Chris. For example, here's how I'd edit a later sentence where the flight attendant gave his little boy some wings:

He accepted the wings, removed them from their cellophane wrapper, and pinned them to his shirt.

The narrative that followed had "family trouble" tension in it, but I never learned what the story was really about, never read anything that promised a problem ahead for Paul. Keep working, though -- tighten the tension, pick up the pace, and give us a clue as to what trouble is heading Paul's way.

Comments, anyone?

For what it's worth,

Ray

1. send 1st chapter or prologue as an attachment (cutting and pasting and reformatting from an email is a time-consuming pain) and I'll critique the first couple of pages.
2. Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
3. And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
4. If you're in a hurry, I've done "private floggings," $50 for a first chapter.
5. If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it's okay with me to update the submission.

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© 2008 Ray Rhamey

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I'm a novelist/freelance editor. Member of Editorial Freelancers Assoc. and Northwest Independent Editors Guild. Most clients are first-time novelists. I've written 5 novels, had one literary agent (am looking for a new one).