On rewriting another's prose

It's a certain kind of rewrite, the kind that fails to respect the writer's voice. There's an example from the recent comments on the opening I posted from one of my WIPs that falls into that category, and I thought it would be worth discussion here.

This is not to say never offer a rewrite. Rewriting can help a writer see an alternative way of expressing the narrative.

But not if it doesn't sound like his or her narrative.

When I do an edit, I'll frequently include "thought-starters" that are either new pieces of narrative or a reconfiguring of what's there. But the suggestions I make are, as close as I can get them, true to the voice of the writer. Actually, I'm a pretty good mimic. I may not be enamored of the writer's voice, but an agent or an editor might love it, so I feel obligated to be faithful to it.

What are good reasons for offering a rewrite?

In my edits, most frequently it's where there is a lack of clarity. If a line of narrative is clear, I'll leave it pretty much alone. If there's a dull verb, I'll point that out -- but not change it. If it's passive, I'll point that out, and maybe give an example. But if it's clear, it's untouched.

A lack of clarity because something is missing -- especially a transition -- may be another reason to suggest words or sentences, but the suggestions need to reflect the author's or character's voice.

My editorial philosophy: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Now, I'm not picking on this particular contributor, and he's not the only one who does what I'm talking about, nor am I trying to defend my writing. In fact, other thoughts in his comment were worth considering, as well as those in other comments that offered rewrites within my narrative voice. This is about editorial philosophy, about how I think an editor approaches trying to improve a narrative.

The problem with rewriting that is clearly not within the writer's voice -- especially if there's no problem that it's fixing -- is that the author can't use it. It won't fit. So what good is there in doing it?

In the last post, the 16 lines I put out there ended with this paragraph:

Kurt placed the gun back on a plaque that displayed a Bronze Star medal and a brass plate that read, "Major Jefferson T. Dengler." His grandfather hadn't made it home from World War II, but his heroism and his sidearm had. Kurt used his tie to polish away a fingerprint, snatched up the TIME and the new polls, and left his West Wing office for the Rose Garden.

A reader wrote this as a suggested replacement:

Kurt laid the gun carefully beside a plaque displaying a Bronze Star above a brass plate that read simply "Major Jefferson T. Dengler." Kurt's grandfather hadn't made it home from World War II, but his heroism and his sidearm had.

A quick swipe of his tie served to polish away any fingerprints. Then Kurt snatched up the TIME and the new polls and left his West Wing office for the Rose Garden.

When I read this, I wondered why the changes were there. To me, the original wording was perfectly clear. For example, in terms of clarity,

Kurt placed the gun back on a plaque

seems clear, and there's nothing gained by changing it to

Kurt laid the gun carefully beside a plaque

An unnecessary adverb was added, and the action was changed -- the gun went beside the plaque instead of on it. Why the changes?

Here's another puzzler. The original line:

Kurt used his tie to polish away a fingerprint,

And the rewrite that seems to be a change done solely to match the voice of the editor rather than the writer:

A quick swipe of his tie served to polish away any fingerprints.

To my eye/ear, both voice and meaning are changed. Even the visual picture intended by the original is changed.

• We go from a fingerprint on the plaque, which we can visualize, to a vague "any fingerprints" that may or may not be there, and we can't visualize. Remember that specifics create reality in a reader's mind, generalizations do not.
• We go from the character doing something to his tie doing something, a shift from active to passive.
• We go from polishing, which I think evokes a clear picture of a brief rubbing of a particular spot to make it clean and bright, to a "quick swipe" which seems to me the opposite of polishing.
• The rewrite is 3 words longer, but to no purpose.
• The use of "served to" is the biggest departure from the original voice, in my view. If you go back to the original post and read the whole sample, that kind of lingo just doesn't happen.
  

The answer here is because the revisions sounded better to the editor's ear. Well, that's not a good reason to do a comprehensive rewrite of narrative. If you don't care for the author's voice, live with it. It will never conform with yours, nor should it.

So stifle your own voice

The point of all this is the care I owe a writer to respect the voice and intent of the narrative, and so do you. In fact, an editor's function is sometimes to help reveal the writer's voice by weeding the narrative of clutter that obscures it.

In my view, you don't alter the meaning and action that's presented if there's nothing incorrect about it. You don't change the flavor of the language from the author's to yours, though you can suggest ways to enhance it within the writer's style.

When you're critiquing another writer, whether in a critique group, online, a friend, whomever, leave your own wonderful voice in its box.

Okay, now I'm stepping down off my soap box. I DO NOT want to discourage this commenter or any other from helping the writers who appear on FtQ. But sometimes the advice, as in this case, just isn't helpful, at least the way I see it. When you suggest alternative language, you'll help the writer most if it fits with the rest of the narrative, and especially when it focuses on an issue such as a lack of clarity.

For what it's worth.

Comments, anyone?

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

Creating a really good bad guy

I'm deep into a serious rethink of one of my novels as a result of a critique by Lou Aronica, a top editor/publisher. A main focus is a primary antagonist. Lou says he's not strong enough or smart enough to be an interesting character, and I have finally understood that he's right.

This WIP is the first novel I wrote (5 novels ago) and I'll admit that the bad guys were created just to be bad, just to attack the good guys. I didn't like the bad guys, and I didn't want my readers to like them either. So all of their characteristics are unlikeable -- weak, corrupt, greedy, cowardly, dishonest, arrogant, and not all that bright.

Cartoony, to be honest. I couldn't see that then, but a light turned on a week or so ago. So here I am, faced with what to do with this cartoonishly nasty, inept, cowardly guy.

An aha experience arrives

Finally it hit me. I need to treat the antagonist like a protagonist. After all, he's the protagonist in his story, right? He believes in what he does, and that he's doing the right thing. It doesn't matter, at this moment, that I disagree with him or that the things he will do are evil. What matters is that for him they are the right thing to do, and that his cause is just. We're all like that, aren't we? Even when we do something we know is wrong, we do it anyway because, at that moment in our lives, it's the right thing to do. Think of that last piece of chocolate pie you knew you shouldn't have eaten. . .

Bad guys don't think of themselves as bad guys. They're the heroes. So a narrative that intimates this person is bad and what he's doing is nefarious isn't true to character. And it's character that makes a novel interesting and convincing.

I'm sure I've read advice on thinking about an antagonist in this way, but I never internalized it. Once this epiphany finally hit -- and I'm sure that for many of you this is old hat -- I started thinking again about how to open the scene that introduced my good/bad guy. The way the narrative delivers what he thinks and does shouldn't signal that he or his actions are evil because they're not, to him. And if the reader starts out feeling some empathy for this guy and his goals, then the arc of his story will be bigger and more dramatic.

Also, the smarter and stronger my bad guy is, the stronger the conflict, and the stronger my protagonist will be when he finally wins. Greater conflict! Bigger stakes!

The point is, once I viewed the world from inside his (now smarter) head, even my word choices changed. The way he reacts to people and events in his world changed. From his viewpoint, I was able to see my good guy as a bad guy.

Holy schizophrenia!

My first 16 lines are below, fresh out of my brain cells. This is a very raw first draft and will likely change or could even be discarded. My goal is that the person you're meeting here doesn't bellow BAD GUY. I'd appreciate your comments.

Kurt Dengler aimed the Colt .45 automatic at Noah Stone's face, cocked the hammer, and squeezed the trigger.

On the cover of TIME magazine, beneath the headline "Pied Piper of the West," Stone smiled up at the Colt's muzzle. The firing pin clicked on the empty chamber, and there was no hole in the enemy of freedom's forehead.

So much for wishful thinking.

Kurt used his cell phone to call the number only he, the First Lady, and the Secret Service had. The president's gravelly voice said, "Hey, Kurt."

"We need to talk about a problem that needs to go away, Mr. President."

Leo chuckled. "You're my chief of staff, why don't you see if you can work you in?"

Not in the Oval Office, not with all those microphones. "Remember when we were kids, plannin' to run away?"

"All right. The garden. Now's good."

Kurt placed the gun back on a plaque that displayed a Bronze Star medal and a brass plate that read, "Major Jefferson T. Dengler." His grandfather hadn't made it home from World War II, but his heroism and his sidearm had. Kurt used his tie to polish away a fingerprint, snatched up the TIME and the new polls, and left his West Wing office for the Rose Garden.

Would you turn the page?

And tell me this: does this narrative telegraph antagonist, or could he just as well be a protagonist?

I have to say, it's great to be able to talk to you guys about this kind of stuff because you understand. And talking about it helps clarify my own thinking. If it helps yours, even better.

For what it's worth.

Comments, anyone?

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 Gavin: 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.

Some days, Retela hated being the better swimmer.

As she dove deeper into the waters off the Carwyt coast, water surged through her neck like gills, courtesy of the spell-woven collar she wore. While the ability to breathe was admittedly useful, she could do without the tickling sensation, or the need to gulp down mouthfuls of salty water mixed with seaweed and fish excrement. Meanwhile, her partner stayed ashore, breathing air like a normal person. Jerk.

The sea grew dark as she approached the bottom, the moonlight struggling to pierce the water. Retela untied a pouch at her belt and pulled out the other spell-woven trinket in her possession: a polished white stone. She gently rubbed it between her fingers, and the shinestone lit up with a brilliant blue glow. Dozens of fish scattered away from the light, one of the smaller ones nearly swimming into Retela's mouth.

"Blech!" She gagged again, her voice muffled by the water. "Yes, that's exactly what I want on my headstone: 'Retela Veruan, Choked to Death on a Fish'."

The bubbles cleared, and her shinestone revealed a shadow rising towards her from the ocean floor. She swam for it, and grinned as the monstrosity came into the light.

The corpse of the ship Ashaflana laid right where they said it would.

I wanted to read more

A good voice, an interesting scene, the character is inviting, and I have some story questions I'd like the answers to, mostly "what happens next?" But I think this could be tighter in a couple of spots. Notes:

Some days, Retela hated being the better swimmer. (Nice opening. Introduces character and raises the question "why?")

As she dove deeper into the waters off the Carwyt coast, water surged through her neck like gills, courtesy of the spell-woven collar she wore. While the ability to breathe underwater was admittedly useful, she could do have done without the tickling sensation, or the need to gulp down mouthfuls of salty water mixed with seaweed and fish excrement. Meanwhile, her partner stayed ashore, breathing air like a normal person. Jerk.

The sea grew dark as she approached the bottom, the moonlight struggling to pierce the water. Retela untied a pouch at her belt and pulled out the her other spell-woven trinket in her possession: a polished white shinestone. She gently rubbed it between her fingers, and it the shinestone lit up with a brilliant blue glow. Dozens of fish scattered away from the light, one of the smaller ones nearly swimming into Retela's mouth. (Seems like phrases such as "in her possession" instead of simply "her" is a touch of overwriting. Generally, I think it's good to avoid adverbs modifying verbs when you can. Not often needed.)

"Blech!" She gagged again, her voice muffled by the water. "Yes, that's exactly what I want on my headstone: 'Retela Veruan, Choked to Death on a Fish'." (You have her gagging "again," but the narrative hasn't shown her gagging previously.)

The bubbles cleared, and hHer shinestone revealed a shadow rising towards (?) her from the ocean floor. She swam for it, and grinned as when the monstrosity came into the her light. (Just like the gagging, bubbles haven't been mentioned in the narrative, and clarity is better without them. Also, I don't think the shadow should be "rising toward" her. That suggests something coming for her, and it's not. "Nearing" might do, or something else that says that she's approaching it, not it approaching her.)

The corpse of the ship Ashaflana laid right where they said it would. ("Corpse" was a good word choice here. Adds to mood.)

Nice work, good writing. Upon reflection, I wish there had been some hint of jeopardy for her. Or perhaps some kind of unease about the dead ship. Her irritation and attitude express great confidence, and that's fine. But, still, this opening would be stronger if there were some element of personal tension here.

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 Cathy: 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.

Sister Olgara checked the answers with excruciating thoroughness, as Terin studied the cracked walls. Today the stones were weeping, the tears pooling on the floor.

Even on sunny days the place never lost its smell, the mustiness embedded in the rock. In Terin's nightmares the walls closed in on her, trapping her in the dungeon-like classroom.

The Sister steepled her fingers and pinned Terin with her glare. "The gods punish the disobedient, and so must we. I will pray the gods show you the error of your ways. You may go."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Terin raced upward, coming out into the blinding sunlight. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of rain-cleansed fresh air with its usual pinch of salt.

Mocking laughter and shrill voices pried open her eyes. The pack was on the attack. Terin's punishment had denied the bullies their favorite target, which only left Arlee, her best friend in the Sisters of Sacrifice School. The only friend she had. One who wouldn't fight back.

As she drew near Terin heard Wingrid, "I'll never understand why the Sisters bother with you. Everyone knows you can't teach the lower classes anything."

"You know the old saying, low class, no class," Randolf, third cousin to the Prince, added.

As Terin searched for an opening she heard Arlee. "Please just leave me alone."

"Don't give orders to your betters, kitchen girl," Wingrid said.

I turned this page

The character interested me enough, that plus the clearly different kind of place she's in. The writing is good, too, not too many warnings of shortcomings to come. But I think there are some things to be done.

Sister Olgara checked the answers with excruciating thoroughness, as Terin studied the cracked walls. Today the stones were weeping, the tears pooling on the floor.

Even on sunny days the place never lost its smell, the mustiness embedded in the rock. In Terin's nightmares the walls closed in on her, trapping her in the dungeon-like classroom.

The Sister steepled her fingers and pinned Terin with her glare. "The gods punish the disobedient, and so must we. I will pray the gods show you the error of your ways. You may go."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Terin raced upward, coming out into the blinding sunlight. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of rain-cleansed fresh air with its usual pinch of salt. (I'd take out the part about closing her eyes, partly because it's not needed, and partly because I want to get rid of the prying open in the next paragraph. I liked the way "pinch of salt" lets us know that we're near the ocean in a subtle way.)

Mocking laughter and shrill voices pried open her eyes. The pack was on the attack. Terin's punishment had denied the bullies their favorite target, which only left Arlee, her best friend in the Sisters of Sacrifice School. The only friend she had. One who wouldn't fight back. (I suggest losing the "pried open her eyes" for a couple of reasons. First, having sounds pry them open seemed a little over the top to me. But more than that, here we need some kind of scene setting to understand what's going on, and this is the perfect opportunity. We have no visual of where she is or what she sees. The mocking laughter and shrill voices could come from, for instance (because I don't know what the setting is), a ring of children who had Arlee backed against a stone wall of the monastery, and there were no sisters in sight. We need to see something here so we can picture the coming conflict.)

As she drew near Terin heard Wingrid say, "I'll never understand why the Sisters bother with you. Everyone knows you can't teach the lower classes anything." (I suggest that you have Terin run to help her friend rather than "draw near.")

"You know the old saying, low class, no class," Randolf, third cousin to the Prince, added. (I suggest switching the positions of dialog and description here so the reader can begin to picture who's speaking before the words come.)

As Terin searched for an opening she heard Arlee. "Please just leave me alone." (Searched for an opening in what? If we'd seen the ring of children around Arlee earlier, we'd know. Just a few lines later the author has Terin push "her way into the circle, clearing a space to Arlee with several well placed elbow jabs." I suggest that she do that here instead of searching for an opening. This would crank up the conflict and tension sooner, and better characterize Terin as a bold girl ready to take action to defend her friend.)

"Don't give orders to your betters, kitchen girl," Wingrid said.

With some revisions, I think this opening could be stronger, so keep at it Cathy. Nice 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

Flogometer for Kathy: 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.

Devon McCalester knew what he wanted. He wanted Taylor Wilder, or what ever his name really was, and he wanted answers too. The overhead lights flickered and buzzed for a few moments before lighting up his cramped dank office. It was late and he was tired, but conflicting thoughts about the case kept him from sleeping. He decided to review the file again.

Tossing his coat over the back of the chair, he removed 'Mary' from his shoulder holster and placed her on the desk.

The well worn and comfortable chair groaned under his weight like an old friend welcoming him. Devon smiled at the familiar sound.

Pushing aside an ash tray filled with crushed cigarette butts, Devon opened a drawer and retrieved a manila folder and a half empty bottle of scotch. Grimacing when he saw that there was scarcely enough left to fill his coffee-stained mug. He sighed, set the folder down and poured the remaining contents into the cup. He lit a cigarette and watched as the swirl of smoke floated in front of him like a genie emerging from it's bottle. The gentle patter of rain sounded like little fingers tapping against the window pane creating a relaxing background for the visual effect. Devon closed his eyes, he could have easily fallen asleep, but there was work to be done, and questions that needed answers.

Slowed by detail, I stopped

Kathy sees her scene clearly, and that's good. But if the goal is to compel a reader to turn the page, lots of little details may set a mood, but they don't create tension. There are discouraging signs of overwriting here, too. There's good writing, just too much of it. Notes:

Devon McCalester knew what he wanted. He wanted Taylor Wilder, or what ever his name really was, and he wanted answers, too. The overhead lights flickered and buzzed for a few moments before lighting up his cramped dank office. It was late and he was tired, but conflicting thoughts about the case had kept him from sleeping and he'd. He decided to review the file again. (Trimmed, the first line is a good one, raising story questions right away. But then little shortcomings crept in. Too many adjectives about the office. "Telling," as in "it was late." Show us it was late. For example: His desk clock said three a.m….)

Tossing his coat over the back of the chair, he removed 'Mary' from his shoulder holster and placed her on the desk. (Nice touch, naming the gun.)

The well worn and comfortable chair groaned under his weight like an old friend welcoming him. Devon smiled at the familiar sound. (This doesn't do anything to move the story ahead, and doesn't add interesting characterization, so I'd cut it.)

Pushing aside an ash tray filled with crushed cigarette butts, Devon opened a drawer and retrieved a manila folder and a half empty bottle of scotch Scotch. Grimacing when he saw that there was scarcely enough left to fill his coffee-stained mug, . He he sighed , set the folder down and poured the remaining contents into the cup. He lit a cigarette and watched as the swirl of smoke floated in front of him like a genie emerging from it's its bottle. The gentle patter of rain sounded like little fingers tapping against the window pane creating a relaxing background for the visual effect. Devon closed his eyes -- he could have easily fallen asleep, but there was work to be done, and questions that needed answers. (Lack of specificity led to a moment of confusion -- what size is the bottle of Scotch? If it's a fifth, which is what I first visualized, then half a bottle is a lot more than a cup. If it's a pint, then that's right. You have an "it's" (it is) where there should be "its," and there were more instances of that later -- do a search and change the contractions to the possessive pronoun. The rain was a another detail that slowed my reading to a halt.)

On Kathy's next page, she went into a flashback, definitely not the thing to do in the opening of what appears to be a mystery or suspense story. Kathy, you need to focus on raising story questions and creating tension with what's happening. Fewer mood details, and no flashbacks. I suggest you read the two posts that are linked above, if you haven't. But keep at it, your writing is sound.

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 Richard: would you keep reading?
originally posted: July 7, 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.

Dr. Brad Franklin, chairman of the Department of Surgery, looked up from behind his huge cherry wood desk. His expression was neutral, his eyes unreadable behind rimless glasses. An immaculate white lab coat covered his crisp pale blue dress shirt and dark red tie.

Instinctively, Dr. Anna McIntyre smoothed her wrinkled surgical scrubs before buttoning her lab coat over them. "You wanted to see me?" She shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for an invitation to sit that didn't come.

Two men rose in perfect unison from the sofa in the corner and moved forward. Anna recognized the visitors -- at least, who they represented. Both wore dark suits, white shirts, conservative ties. Clean-shaven, hair neatly cut, shoes shined. They might as well have carried signs saying, "Government Agent." Anna's first thought was FBI. But what could the FBI possibly want from her?

She looked at Brad, hoping for a clue. "What's going on?"

With a gesture toward Anna, Brad said, "Gentlemen, this is Dr. McIntyre."

Anna felt her pulse rate begin to escalate. "Brad, what's going on here?"

"These men want to talk with you." Brad unfolded his six-foot plus frame from his padded swivel chair with the ease of an athlete. He fixed Anna with a steady gaze. "I know who (snip)

No sale
While this opening does the right thing by starting with a scene, for me the level of tension never reaches compelling. There is a hint of tension, but it's not really motivated -- and this is a suspense novel. And I feel a case of overwriting coming on. Notes:

Dr. Brad Franklin, chairman of the Department of Surgery, looked up from behind his huge cherry wood desk. His expression was neutral, his eyes unreadable behind rimless glasses. An immaculate white lab coat covered his crisp pale blue dress shirt and dark red tie. (Remembering that your goal is to hook the interest of a reader (who may be a weary agent), create tension in the first sentence if you can. This, being all description, lacks that. And it's in such micro detail -- is it important to the story that his shirt is "crisp pale blue dress?" That he has a huge cherry wood desk? Moreover, this isn't even the protagonist. I think all of this could be trimmed down to the suggestion coming up.)

Instinctively, Dr. Anna McIntyre smoothed her wrinkled surgical scrubs before buttoning and then buttoned her lab coat over them. "You wanted to see me?" She shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for an invitation to sit that didn't come. (Richard is trying to picture tension in Anna, but not giving a reason she would be feeling it. If a key element of the description above were what I call "experiential" description, it could be possible. If we had seen the man above through the lens of Anna's experience with him with something like this, then we'd get it: Instead of Brad Franklin's usual cheery grin, his expression was neutral, his eyes unreadable behind his rimless glasses. If the first paragraph had started with something like this, and woven in that he was chair of the surgery department, then it would be logical for her to feel tension. As it is, though, I don't think so.)

Two men rose in perfect unison from the sofa in the corner and moved forward. Anna recognized the visitors -- at least, who they represented. Both wore dark suits, white shirts, conservative ties. Clean-shaven, hair neatly cut, shoes shined. They might as well have carried signs saying, "Government Agent." Anna's first thought was FBI. But what could the FBI possibly want from her? (These men were another chance to create tension in the first paragraph, and should have been there to set the scene. For example, what if the suggested first sentence above had been followed by something like this: Anna glanced at two men on the couch. Their gazes were equally flat, as if they examined a specimen in the lab. It seems to me Richard is relying on what I see as a cliché to give us the idea that the men are government agents -- that they all dress alike in a robotic fashion. I suspect that government agents have as much difference and personality as anyone, and would be distinct individuals. I don't think she needs to be speculating, on such slim and hypothetical evidence, that they are government agents. Instead, let their behavior toward her create the tension.)

She looked at Brad, hoping for a clue. "What's going on?"

With a gesture toward Anna, Brad said, "Gentlemen, this is Dr. McIntyre." (Don't need the gesture, we know to whom he's speaking and to whom he refers.)

Anna felt her pulse rate begin to escalate. "Brad, what's going on here?" (As the narrative is, I really don't see a reason for her to become agitated unless she has done something illegal. If we must escalate her pulse here, can it be described in terms of the bodily sensations that tell her that the rate is increasing? I mean, she's not putting her fingertips on her wrist to check her pulse -- what sensations does she experience that say "increasing pulse rate.")

"These men want to talk with you." Brad stood. unfolded his six-foot plus frame from his padded swivel chair with the ease of an athlete. He fixed Anna with a steady gaze. "I know who (snip) (This, I think, is overwriting. Do we need such detailed description of this man here? I suspect that there's no romantic interest, so why would she be noticing his hunky frame? Or his "padded swivel chair" and the ease with which he rises? The problem with all this incredibly detailed description is that we're at the bottom of the first page and nothing much has happened, and there's no apparent jeopardy in sight for Anna, except for the manufactured tension of a hint of a suspicion that the men are government agents, and she has no reason to fear them anyway. As it is, these are DEA guys who are there about some prescriptions she has allegedly written (by the way, why two of them, and why not make one a woman?). Why are they with her boss? Wouldn't they go directly at her if they suspected her of illegally prescribing drugs?)

I think Richard has gotten too caught up in giving a detailed image of the scene and has focused on images a camera would see, including everything, and overlooked the stuff we really need to be seeing, the behavior and actions of the players.

I suggest you fit yourself firmly inside Anna's head and have her walk into that office (if you don't use the idea of the agents accosting her elsewhere, like on the way into surgery) expecting no trouble and then let her perceive and react to clues that create the tension. There's no real need, in my view, to describe the nature of the wood of the desk or the snappy wardrobe of the chairman. What's important here is that federal agents think she's a criminal. Let's get to that, asap.

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

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Flogometer for Heather: would you keep reading?
originally posted: July 2, 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.

October 18th, 1951

A thick braid of rainwater shot off the roof and slid down the girl's spine like ice. Her raised fist trembled an inch from the oak front door. It must be awfully late… still, the light's on. Although she felt the slippery wood stiff against her knuckles, the sound of her knocking got lost in the rumbling thunder. She rapped again and then leaned her head against the door, wishing for the hundredth time that she was back home. You know you can't go home, she scolded herself. Mama told you so. A flash of a shadow pulled her eyes to the front window of the little brown house. More lightning? Or is someone moving inside? The front door cracked open and a gasp leaked out louder than the howling wind.

"Landsakes, child! You're soaked to the bone!" The chestnut-haired woman clutched an afghan around her shoulders as she beckoned to the girl who staggered inside. "What's a little girl like you doing out on a night like this?" She clucked her tongue. "Does your mama know where you are?"

Not really. She shivered. As she shook her head, the motion lurched the room into a spin. She tried to focus on the kind face and noticed dried tears across the woman's cheeks.

A warm smile cracked through the saltwater streaks. "I'm Thea Greyson." Her voice came soft and throaty. "And don't you worry, honey. I'll help you find your mama. Just tell me your (snip)

Interested but not compelled, craft issues stopped me

While the situation is definitely interesting, and Heather is doing the right thing by starting with a scene that has some drama to it, signs of overwriting and other small craft issues stopped me. A promising start, for me, but. . .some notes.

October 18th, 1951

A thick braid of rainwater shot off the roof and slid down the girl's spine like ice. Her raised fist trembled an inch from the oak front door. It must be awfully late… still, the light's on. Although she felt the slippery wood stiff against her knuckles, the sound of hHer knocking got lost in the rumbling thunder. She rapped again and then leaned her head against the door, wishing for the hundredth time that she was back home. You know you can't go home, she scolded herself. Mama told you so. A flash of a shadow pulled her eyes gaze to the front window of the little brown house. More lightning? Or is someone moving inside? The front door cracked open and a gasp leaked out louder than the howling wind. (The first sentence was the start of slowing me. A "thick braid of rainwater" sounds like a small stream, and why would this person not avoid it? And why have water slide when what it does best is run? I cut the second sentence because it just wasn't needed -- and I doubt the girl would notice that it was oak. Too many adjectives, for my eye, was a problem here. On the italicized thoughts: I'm an advocate of using interior monologue without italics and "thought." Here it could be simply woven in with the narrative without the italics: It had to be awfully late…still, the light was on. Even though I tightened the knocking description, I think it could be better if, for example, rumbling thunder swallowed her knock. For the second thought sequence, it could be: She knew she couldn't go home. Mama'd told her so. Lose the italics again by changing it to past tense. Lastly, for me it wasn't credible that a gasp was louder than howling wind. It would have to be a shriek to be louder. The girl could see the woman's mouth open as if she gasped, but how could she hear it? One other thing -- it's always "the girl." This operates to keep us distant from the character. If she's going to be a point of view character, I'd advise using a name.)

The chestnut-hairedA woman clutched an afghan around her shoulders. "Landsakes, child! You're soaked to the bone!" as sShe beckoned to the girl, who and she staggered inside. "What's a little girl like you doing out on a night like this?" She clucked her tongue. "Does your mama know where you are?" (Issues with the second sentence, which I moved to be first so there was info on who was talking: I don't think the child would be noticing "chestnut" hair. However, it would be good to give some description -- what if the woman was described as about the age of the girl's mother, which I suspect is true from what I read later?)

Not really. She The girl shivered. As sShe shook her head, and the motion lurched the room into a spin. She tried to focus on the kind face and noticed dried tears across the woman's cheeks. (I changed "she" to "the girl" because the antecedent for the pronoun was the woman, not the girl. I changed the "as she" construction because it's not really accurate -- the shake of the head and the room lurching are cause and effect, not simultaneous. I have to wonder if it's really possible to notice dried tear streaks on a face unless they ran through noticeable makeup. I'm not saying that it isn't, it's just that I can't recall ever seeing that. Wet tear streaks, yes. For my money, I'd have the woman have wet tear streaks, and even wipe one away. Seems more believable, and points to the fact that she'd been weeping.)

A warm smile cracked through the saltwater streaks. "I'm Thea Greyson." Her voice came soft and throaty. "And don't you worry, honey. I'll help you find your mama. Just tell me your (snip) (Same point about the tear streaks, and I don't think a girl would be thinking of them as "saltwater." We do seem to be in a close third person here. If you want us to hear the woman's voice in a particular way, you have to put that description before the words come, as in: The woman's voice came soft and throaty. I liked the way the dialogue "find your mama" showed us that the girl is young, rather than telling us, and it characterized the woman.)

As I said, there's promise here, and an interesting situation. There was more on the next page about the girl promising not to tell her name, and then she passes out. If that had been on this first page, I think that would have been plenty to get me to turn the page, storywise, and it will be possible for it to be there if the opening is trimmed and made crisper.

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

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