I’ve got enough history now with my books to feel that they’re good reads and that readers enjoy them. The average reader rating for all for novels is 4.6 stars—and these are not friends and family doing the voting.
But sales trickle. They need to be discovered.
Thus my Discovery Sale. Until further notice, all four of my novels are available for the price of one so that readers can discover my writing at an attractive price.
1. All-ebooks option, $2.99: you can purchase all four as ebooks in either the Kindle or Nook/epub format. I email the files to you, which means you’ll have to be able to get them into your device from there.
2. Signed paperback + ebooks option: one paperback (free shipping) and the other three as ebooks for the price of the paperback, either $13.95 or $14.95. I’ll sign the paperback if you wish.
Please pass the URL (www.rayrhamey.com) on to friends who like to read. Because of what one reader calls my “genre-bending style,” there’s something there for just about any reader.
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.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page). Directions for submissions are below.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
Storytelling Checklist
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.
Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.
Story questions
Tension (in the reader, not just the characters)
Voice
Clarity
Scene-setting
Character
Barbara has sent herfirst chapter of Lonely Wives Club.
Alison mulled around the house. It was a place that she loved coming to. The large Tuscan style kitchen her mother helped her design was her favorite place to be. The large windows and double French doors let the kitchen be a part of the back garden. After all, wasn’t the kitchen the heart of every home?
She and Jack wanted it to be a place full of memories and filled with laughter. Alison wandered around the sitting room they filled with memories. There were pictures everywhere of her little family. One wall she dedicated to her and Jack’s daughters. The wall was covered in pictures of Holly and Jill from the moment Alison found out she was pregnant to just two weeks ago. They were her favorite pictures, but that was all she had. The girls were now in boarding school and Jack was away most of the time promoting his new CD or working on his next movie.
The past two years she never felt so alone. She needed to make some changes in her life. Her best friends, Frannie and Beth have always been there for her and she knew they would be there to support her in anything that she decided to do now.
Alison glanced at the grandfather clock in the entry way and knew that her friends would be there soon. Frannie had suggested that Alison join her and Beth at the local church for their weekly support group. Both Frannie and Beth wanted her to go along to meet new people and to maybe make new friends.
Nope
Looking at my regular list of story ingredients, I have to say that this lacks story questions and tension. The exposition and backstory tells us stuff, but isn’t really delivering something happening other than Alison mulling. I think you need to find the point in your story where something happens to Alison to upset her life and threaten to take away something she values. I read through the first chapter, and didn’t see that. Keep working on it, though—look for something with conflict in it, maybe later in the manuscript.
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.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page). Directions for submissions are below.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
Storytelling Checklist
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.
Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.
Story questions
Tension (in the reader, not just the characters)
Voice
Clarity
Scene-setting
Character
Glenda has sent a rewrite of herfirst chapter of Sullivan: On the Redus Trail.
Sallie woke, cheeks wet with tears. "John?" She reached across the bed to the cool, empty place where her husband should have been. No one was there. A sob caught in her throat. John, where are you? She stroked the rough sheet. It's been so long. John, darling John, I miss you so. She snuggled deeper beneath the covers. She ached to return to her dreams: dreams of the days before the death of their son, William; dreams of days spent together in laughter and love before the War and the Comanches forced her and her daughter to move into this two room cabin with the others.
A sense of dread kept her awake. Something's wrong. I feel it. Her eyes darted to the crib of roughhewn cedar next to the kitchen table. Memories of finding her son still and blue in that same crib assaulted her. Sallie's breath caught. She slipped from her bed and raced barefoot to the crib and looked down. She exhaled with relief. Her daughter, Mary Jennette, slept peacefully. Hands shaking, she gently wrapped the patchwork quilt tighter around the child, tucking the edges beneath the toddler's chubby legs to guard against the cold.
Sallie wrapped a shawl around the shoulders of her flannel nightgown to ward off the chill. She yawned and looked out the window next to the front door of the cabin hoping in vain to see John riding up the path. A rosy glow hinted at a glorious sunrise to come but no John. Damn this war. A shiver ran down her spine.
Nope
The writing is good, and the scene is well set. But, on the tension side, about all we get is her sense of dread. But there’s nothing to base it on that could create interest in this reader. There is that material, of course, on the very next page. Here’s a paragraph I would like to see at the bottom of the first page:
Outside, no night insects clicked or whirred. No frogs croaked or sang. The yipping coyotes who had kept her awake earlier in the night weren't even howling. It was too quiet. Fear filled her. She glanced at the door. A hissing, crackling noise reached her ears as the first hint of wood smoke tickled her nose. She looked at the cast iron stove sitting in the corner. Yes, it was lit but the coals were smoldering - not flaming, not smoking - nothing out of control.
To get that on the first page requires some editing. There’s a bit of overwriting here and there that can be cut, for starters. So here are craft notes and a look at cutting 5 lines of narrative:
Sallie woke, cheeks wet with tears. "John?" She reached across the bed to the cool, empty place where her husband should have been. No one was there. A sob caught in her throat. John, where are you? She stroked the rough sheet. It's been so long. John, darling John, I miss you so. She snuggled deeper beneath the covers. She ached to return to her dreams: dreams of the days before the death of their son, William; dreams of days spent together in laughter and love before the War and the Comanches had forced her and her daughterMary Jennette to move into this two-room cabin with the others. No need to say “No one was there” because we already know the space is empty. To keep this in close third person, the natural thought about her child here would use the name, not “her daughter,” which is the author intruding. Same goes for the dead son—she would ordinarily think of his name, not “her son.” That information can comes in the next paragraph. There was a lot of repetition in the parts about dreams that I felt could be simplified for pace and flow.
A sense of dread kept her awake. Something's wrong. I feel it. Her eyes darted to the crib of roughhewn cedar next to the kitchen table. Memories of finding her sonWilliam still and blue in that same crib assaulted her. Sallie's breath caught. She slipped from her bed and raced barefoot to the crib and looked down. She exhaled with relief. Her daughter, Mary Jennette, slept peacefully. Hands shaking, she gently wrapped the patchwork quilt tighter around her the child, tucking the edges beneath the toddler's her baby’s chubby legs to guard against the cold. The first sentence is “telling.” I think it’s more effective to just go to her internal monologue. If you want to be in close third person, try to keep it as natural as possible, reflecting the way people normally operate. In this case, a mom wouldn’t think of “the toddler,” she would think of “my baby.” Same goes for the interjection of the child’s name. The “looked down” and the exhale are overwriting—detail that doesn’t really contribute to story or character. Or, perhaps, the exhale/sigh could be effective if it comes after she sees that the baby is okay, not before. The response shouldn’t come before the stimulus.
Sallie wrapped a shawl around the her shoulders of her flannel nightgown to ward off the chill. She yawned and looked out the window next to the front door of the cabin hoping in vain to see John riding up the path. A rosy glow hinted at a glorious sunrise to come but no John. Damn this war. A shiver ran down her spine.The mention of the flannel nightgown is the author intruding again to hand out information. I think this entire paragraph should be cut and the other one put in its place.
Outside, no night insects clicked or whirred. No frogs croaked or sang. The yipping coyotes who had kept her awake earlier in the night weren't even howling. It was too quiet. Fear filled her. She glanced at the door. A hissing, crackling noise reached her ears as the first hint of wood smoke tickled her nose. She looked at the cast iron stove sitting in the corner. Yes, it was lit but the coals were smoldering - not flaming, not smoking - nothing out of control.
What do you think? Cut that stuff and get the paragraph on the first page?
If you’ve read my book on writing craft, you know that I say that there are no rules in fiction. It’s “whatever works” to hook a reader. Yet there are “rules” proposed by famous writers, or people who write books on how to write fiction. What should a writer do about those?
Agent Cameron McClure, who is with the Donald Maass Literary Agency, wrote a fun post about breaking the rules. I’ll excerpt a little here, but I encourage you to read the whole post. She takes you to good examples of rules being successfully broken.
She cites Kurt Vonnegut's 8 Rules of Writing:
1) Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that they will not feel the time was wasted.
2) Give the reader at least one character they can root for.
3) Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4) Every sentence must do one of two things - reveal character or advance the plot.
5) Start as close to the end as possible.
6) Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them - in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7) Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8) Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
Vonnegut wrote these rules for short-story writers, she says, and adds, “though I think that they can be easily applied to novels (with the possible exception of the 8th rule)."
She also quotes Elmore Leonard’s well known top ten rules:
1) Never open a book with the weather.
2) Avoid prologs.
3) Never use a verb other than "said" to carry dialog.
4) Never use an adverb to modify the verb "said"
5) Keep your exclamation points under control.
6) Never use the words "suddenly" or "all hell broke loose"
7) Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.
8) Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.
9) Don't go into great detail describing places and things.
10) Try to leave out the parts the readers tend to skip.
Cameron adds that “Elmore Leonard's rules are much more particular. Most of these rules are easy to break and are broken regularly.”
Then she gives her notes and examples of rulebreaking that works. They are:
Show, Don’t Tell
No Prologs
Don’t Lecture
Don’t Open with Backstory
Don't Describe Scenery / Can't have nothing happening
Then she discusses in a general way the “rule” about opening as Vonnegut’s 8th rule suggests. “'Give your readers as much information as possible upfront so they have a complete understanding of what is going on' is a rule that most writers of speculative fiction will break. If it's not broken well, the result can be a very frustrating reading experience. But many writers break this rule well, and hold back key elements of their world-building until late in the story. Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policeman's Union and Richard Morgan's books come to mind. Had these authors explained the ins and outs of their worlds up front it would have created a huge infodump that may have had readers skimming. Instead, they waited to reveal the details of how their worlds work, or are different from ours, until it became absolutely necessary to the story that the reader (or the characters) have this information. It's a fine line between making sure readers don't feel lost and dumping a ton of information on them all at once.”
The average earnings were $10,000, which sounds good--but half of the self-pubbers surveyed earned less than $500. 10% of the authors surveyed accounted for 75% of total earnings, leaving just 25% of the pot to be split among the other 90%.
For me, the really interesting part was that self-publishers who received help with story editing, copy editing and proofreading made 13% more than the average; help with cover design upped earnings by a further 34%.
The article says, “There's a clear link between earnings and the amount of help, and therefore feedback, that an author is willing to take on board. Authors who engage editors end up with more royalties. Readers are excited by having access to new voices, but they've not been waiting for unedited, unproofread and amateurish books. There's more to being a successful author than finding the 'Save and publish' button on Amazon, but there are a lot of authors who haven't realized that yet.”
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.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page). Directions for submissions are below.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
Storytelling Checklist
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.
Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.
Story questions
Tension (in the reader, not just the characters)
Voice
Clarity
Scene-setting
Character
Sean has sent the first chapter of a historical-romance-comedy/alternate history, Bobby Vs. The Duke.
The Abattoir Blues.
A cow makes a very big noise when it falls down, stunned from a shot of the bolt pistol to the head. James Darling spent every weekday hearing that noise over and over again. It was like a giant’s footsteps in a fairy tale.
James’ job at the abattoir was sweeping and hosing. When it was his turn on hosing he had to keep the hot water flowing all day, spraying the pieces of shit and dirt into the drainage grids in the centre of the floor so no one slipped on them and when they got a surprise inspection they would be up to code.
Sweeping was basically the same job but someone else held the hose and he swept up the bits they missed into the grids.
Once the cow was stunned it was strung up by its hind legs on and flew over their heads to the processing lines where its throat would be cut and it would be carved up. James watched an unconscious cow, hooked onto chains and a line, float past him into the next room. Little clumps of dirt fell from its hooves onto the floor and James hit them with the hose stream. James loved to eat meat but still had a sentimental streak a mile long and every time he saw a cow go past he felt a little sad.
He worked at the Stanley abattoir in Liverpool, the biggest abattoir in the North of (snip)
Nope
Nice writing and voice, and the chapter continued in that vein. However, there was no real tension for me, no story questions raised--and the chapter continued in that vein, too. Characterization happened, but nothing more than James works, has a conversation with a co-worker, and goes home with his dad to discover that his uncle is there for a visit. Around FtQ this has become known as “throat-clearing.”
We’re also a bit distant from this character, too, observing him rather than being embedded in his experience. Find the place where something happens that does/will change his life and forces him to do something and that’s where the stuff of a stronger first page can be found. The writing is fine, the storytelling needs focus, IMO.
Call for submissions: the end of the queue comes soon. If you have a chapter or story that could use some outside eyes, please see the submission directions below. Thanks.
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.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page). Directions for submissions are below.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
Storytelling Checklist
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.
Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.
Story questions
Tension (in the reader, not just the characters)
Voice
Clarity
Scene-setting
Character
Mike has sent the first chapter of a dystopian YA novel, Hush.
They call me First because that’s what I am.
Guadalcanal, August 7, 1942. Oh seven thirteen GMT, 20:13 local. Only no beach.
Left forearm block followed by a right cross to the temple. My opponent goes down.
One more to go. I side-step his lunge.
January 18, 1593. Kingdom of Siam. I am Naresuan. It’s a Monday and I’m minus the elephant. None of that’s important now.
An inside leg kick followed by a left elbow to the jaw. A Muay Thai head clinch and then an onslaught of knees. My opponent goes down.
Funny thing is, I didn’t even know what Muay Thai was three weeks ago, but I’ve been using a lot of it lately. My victims lie motionless, but alive. That’s the rule.
What did you get for your sweet sixteenth? I got an assignment. This time it was easy, no doubt a present. And I didn’t think they cared…
The Hush slowlydrowns out. The memories fade like the washout from a dirty sink. As much as I hate it, I’m more worried that it won’t come back. Here comes the headache…
It’s mild this time, maybe another gift. I still curl into my fetal ball position to ride it out. This is about as good as I ever feel anymore, so I try to enjoy it. I rely on the pain to block everything else out.
Close, but . . .
Good writing, strong voice, and an exotic opening, but I just didn’t connect with this character and what was going on. For me, the narrative was bits and pieces that lacked connective tissue. The reference to 1942 and then the one to 1593 I found confusing.
There wasn’t much in the way of tension for me, either. I understand that he’s fighting someone, but he is so emotionless and almost uninvolved with it that it seems mechanical, and as if he doesn’t care. And isn’t threatened. So, if he doesn’t care and isn’t threatened, why should a reader?
I understand that the Hush is an important part of the world, but it’s undefined in any way, which also hinders connection with the story. Keeps me at arms-length.
There was good stuff on the second page that might have carried me through had it been on the first page. For example:
It’s nine o’clock and the sun is already becoming unbearable. I can’t help but wonder how many old and very young will die today. There all just a bunch of Dusties anyway, Fifty would say. I make it to the outskirts of New Voice City before the winds start coming over the dirt lakes.
While that doesn’t increase tension, it does promise an unusual new world to explore. Other than not needing a hyphen for “side-step,” there was little in the clean writing to pick at. My thought is to rework this fight in some way to make me feel it as the character does--if he does. He may be emotionless, which isn’t promising.
Bharti Kirchner, a very talented storyteller, is out with a new mystery, Tulip Season, that I had the fun of working on in a critique group several years ago. Amazing how long it takes a book to get out there in traditional publishing. See more about Bharti and her 9 books on her Amazon author page.
It’s a fun read, and the story and characters are still with me. Here’s the text from the book's Amazon page; I hope you’ll check it out.
A missing domestic-violence counselor. A wealthy and callous husband. A dangerous romance.
Kareena Sinha, an Indian-American domestic-violence counselor, disappears from her Seattle home. When the police dismiss suspicions that she herself was a victim of spousal abuse, her best friend, Mitra Basu, a young landscape designer, resolves to find her. Mitra’s search reveals glimpses of a secret life involving her friend and a Bollywood actor of ill repute.
Following the trail, Mitra is lured back to India where she uncovers the actor’s ties to the Mumbai underworld and his financial difficulties–leading her into a web of life-threatening intrigue where Mitra can’t be sure of Kareena’s safety or her own.
“Mitra is gunpowder chutney to the mystery genre, her adventures a hot refreshing blast of sumptuous storytelling. Bharti Kirchner has once again conquered another literary field. Highly Addictive.” -- Skye Moody, Author of the mystery novel Three Bags Full
"Tulip Season is an evocative taste of Seattle's darker side." -- Cara Black, Author of the mystery novel Murder at the Lanterne Rouge
Which reminds me that no one has taken advantage of my free bookshelf/review posting offer in a while.
Call for submissions: the end of the queue comes soon. If you have a chapter or story that could use some outside eyes, please see the submission directions below. Thanks.
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.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page). Directions for submissions are below.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
Storytelling Checklist
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.
Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.
Story questions
Tension (in the reader, not just the characters)
Voice
Clarity
Scene-setting
Character
Karen has sent the first chapter of a memoir, Somebody Knows Something.
November 17, 1990. Minton, Ohio.
On a cold November afternoon, six-year-old Olive Copely goes out to play. Two hours later, she’s gone.
She is never found.
DANIEL & BRIAN
November 17, 1990
There’s a single car travelling down the dusty, dirt road known as Rural Route Two on the outskirts of Minton, Ohio. It’s a 1972 4-speed Dodge Dart, Plum Crazy Purple under the grey road dust; and, although it looks its age, it still can make tracks when it has to.
Today it doesn’t have to. Today it’s doing a lazy, zigzag amble back and forth across the road at the hand of a seventeen-year-old kid named Brian Sachs. Sitting next to him is his best friend, sixteen-year-old Dan Simmons, who just turned down The Kinks so he could count to twelve along with St. Patrick’s bells.
“That’s twelve on the nose—so where to now, Asshole?” Dan’s smiling as he asks, and he keeps smiling as he closes his eyes and stretches his arm out the open window, letting the cold November wind catch and lift his fingers up, down, up again.
“Mr. Asshole to you, asshole,” cracks Brian, flashing a smile. His window is all the way (snip)
Yes, but . . .
With the powerful story question in the opening, I wanted to turn the page to find out more about what happened to this little girl. And the part that follows suggests that these two had something to do with it.
The writing is nicely done, for the most part, but there’s a clarity issue, and I wonder if the tension couldn’t be increased. Notes:
November 17, 1990. Minton, Ohio.
On a cold November afternoon, six-year-old Olive Copely goes out to play. Two hours later, she’s gone.
She is never found.
DANIEL & BRIAN
November 17, 1990
There’s a single car travelling down the dusty, dirt road known as Rural Route Two on the outskirts of Minton, Ohio. It’s a 1972 4-speed Dodge Dart, Plum Crazy Purple under the grey road dust; and, although it looks its age, it still can make tracks when it has to. I suggest making the opening sentence crisper: A single car travels down the dusty, dirt road known as Rural Route Two on the outskirts of Minton, Ohio.
Today it doesn’t have to. Today it’s doing a lazy, zigzag amble back and forth across the road at the hand of a seventeen-year-old kid named Brian Sachs. Sitting next to him is his best friend, sixteen-year-old Dan Simmons, who just turned down The Kinks so he could count to twelve along with St. Patrick’s bells.Clarity issue that took me out of the story--I didn’t know what the St. Patrick’s bells referred to, and had to go back to parse it out. Simply changing “St. Patrick’s” to “the church” would help. I know it’s a way of establishing time of day, and that’s fine--just make sure it’s perfectly clear.
“That’s twelve on the nose—so where to now, Asshole?” Dan’s smiling as he asks, and he keeps smiling as he closes his eyes and stretches his arm out the open window, letting the cold November wind catch and lift his fingers up, down, up again.
“Mr. Asshole to you, asshole,” cracks Brian, flashing a smile. His window is all the way (snip) While this is fun characterization, this is, after all, the first page. Why not be up front about this? I suggest editing down the description above and changing this line of Brian’s dialogue to include what he says at the top of the next page: Let’s go the long way around so we can swing by the Copely place. This clearly hooks the opening and what follows together, and, for me, enhances my interest because I feel fairly certain that these guys have a part in the little girl’s story.
Call for submissions: the end of the queue comes next week. If you have a chapter or story that could use some outside eyes, please see the submission directions below. Thanks.
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.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page). Directions for submissions are below.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
Storytelling Checklist
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.
Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.
Story questions
Tension (in the reader, not just the characters)
Voice
Clarity
Scene-setting
Character
William has sent the first chapter of a memoir, The Delta Convergence.
Robert McClain stared at the wrecked maroon Ford F-150 pickup. What caused Tony to go off the road like that?
It was noon on the day after Labor Day when McClain waded through the sweltering Mississippi heat and edged around the front of the pickup. With each step, his loafers made a crunching noise in the gravel. He didn’t know what he expected to find. Tony was dead, and McClain wanted to see the vehicle that killed a man he had known since junior high school.
The pickup truck stood alone inside a chain-link fenced enclosure next to a red brick building that housed the service bays and office of the combination service station and wrecker service. Dead weeds lined the bottom of the fence, victims of a herbicide. The stillness of the enclosure was broken by the sounds of traffic rushing by on U.S. Highway 61, the main north-south route through the mid-delta town of Cleveland.
McClain stopped at the driver’s door. He mopped sweat dripping from his eyebrows with a handkerchief from his chinos and brushed a lock of prematurely gray hair into place. With the same hand he shaded his slate-blue eyes from the sun to get a better look at the truck. He wished he had brought his sunglasses.
At first glance, the truck looked like any other wrecked vehicle. Its fenders and sides were bent and crushed. The hood had buckled upward into a v-shape. Its roof was caved in somewhat.
Nope
Besides the lack of tension in this story, there are fixable craft issues. In his effort to help the reader see what he knows about the character and the scene, there’s a plethora of description that both bogs the pace down and takes us out of the third person close point of view.
As for tension, I would cut much of the scene description and detail to get this line from a later page on the first page:
A few inches below the door handle, in a fold of steel, were two round holes. Each hole was about the diameter of a dime.
That little detail sparks a strong story question. Notes on the narrative:
Robert McClain stared at the wrecked maroon Ford F-150 pickup. What had caused Tony to go off the road like that? There’s no real story reason for this kind of description--as far as I know, it’s the fact that it is a pickup that has bearing, not its color or model.
It was noon on the day after Labor Day when McClain waded through the sweltering Mississippi heat and edged around the front of the pickup. With each step, his loafers made a crunching noise in the gravel.He didn’t know what he expected to find. Tony was dead, and McClain wanted to see the vehicle that had killed a man he had known since junior high school. The first line I cut seems to be mostly there for getting in the fact that he wears loafers. While clothing may characterize in some circumstances, it doesn’t seem like wearing loafers contributes a lot. The second sentence cut was both telling and, it seems to me, obvious. The opening paragraph has him wondering what caused the wreck, so it’s clear he doesn’t know what to expect to find.
The pickup truck stood alone inside a chain-link fenced enclosure next to a red brick building that housed the service bays and office of the combination service station and wrecker service. Dead weeds lined the bottom of the fence, victims of a herbicide. The stillness of the enclosure was broken by the sounds of traffic rushing by on U.S. Highway 61, the main north-south route through the mid-delta town of Cleveland.Now we’re veering into overwriting--the inclusion of detail that neither advances the story nor characterizes. While it’s important to set the scene, do it in swift, broad strokes that give the reader an environment for the context of the action, but no more--unless there are details that have story consequences. None of these do.
McClain stopped at the driver’s door. He mopped sweat dripping from his eyebrows with a handkerchief from his chinos and brushed a lock of prematurely gray hair into place. With the same hand he He shaded his slate-blue eyes from the sun to get a better look at the truck. He wished he had brought his sunglasses. Now the description gets into what I see as a point-of-view slip. These details--chinos, gray, slate blue--are all what someone would see from the outside. But no one would think of these things, especially in the midst of doing things. My view: in third person close POV a character never does something that a character would NOT normally think, say, know, or do. I don’t, for example, put on my faded blue denim jeans, I just put on my jeans.
At first glance, the truck looked like any other wrecked vehicle. Its fenders and sides were bent and crushed. The hood had buckled upward into a v-shape. Its roof was caved in somewhat. While this is okay, for my money, since we are at the driver’s door, the first thing that should come out is the sentence about the holes that I referenced before.
William, practice the use of your delete key and try stripping everything down to the action and bare-bones description and see what you find. You can always expand it, but it would be good to boil the narrative down to its bones and muscle and see how it plays.
Call for submissions--I'm down to a couple of weeks of opening chapters to flog, so if you'd like some fresh input on yours, please see the directions below and send me yours.
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.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page (first pages of chapters/prologues start about 1/3 of the way down the page). Directions for submissions are below.
A word about the line-editing in these posts: it’s “one-pass” editing, and I don’t try to address everything, which is why I appreciate the comments from the FtQ tribe. In a paid edit, I go through each manuscript three times.
Storytelling Checklist
Before you rip into today’s submission, consider this list of 6 vital storytelling ingredients from my book, Flogging the Quill, Crafting a Novel that Sells. While it's not a requirement that all of these elements must be on the first page, they can be, and I think you have the best chance of hooking a reader if they are.
Evaluate the submission—and your own first page—in terms of whether or not it includes each of these ingredients, and how well it executes them. The one vital ingredient not listed is professional-caliber writing because that is a must for every page, a given.
Story questions
Tension (in the reader, not just the characters)
Voice
Clarity
Scene-setting
Character
Heather has sent the first chapter of a memoir, Tell Me What He Did. Note: there are two openings to look at, and two polls.
“Run!” I yell to Pam. “They’re right behind you.”
She dodges the boys, races past Mommy’s vegetable garden, and heads toward the maple tree in her backyard. If she touches the trunk, we win, and the boys will finally have to keep their promise to play house with us.
I kneel behind the shrub. My side aches with each deep breath. Using the hem of my shirt, I wipe sweat off my forehead.
Steve sneaks behind Pam and drops the hula-hoop lasso over her head. She kicks and screams as her brother drags her to the cave, the cinderblock barbeque pit in my backyard, and rolls a pretend stone in front of the cave door.
Pam beats on the rock. “I can’t escape. They’re going to eat me.”
Hula-hoop in hand, Steve turns toward my hiding place. “I’m coming to get you.”
“No!” I race toward the tree, but Bobby’s guarding it, hands spread wide to grab me. Maybe I can circle around back.
Looking over my shoulder to see where Steve is, I trip on a root, and fall. A piece of gravel jabs deep into my knee.
I’m lassoed.
“Wait a minute,” I say. “Let me see if I’m bleeding.”
No, but . . .
The writing is just fine and evokes a real sense of childhood. What happens even manages to suggest a time in the past, a more innocent time than today’s video-game days. But then there’s the matter of tension.
I think it’s tougher to create story questions and tensions in memoir for an author who is, necessarily, deep in her memories. While this story opening is fun to read, there’s no real hint of trouble ahead for this little girl. The story is about abuse, but there’s not a hint of that here.
So, in my usual fashion, I read deeper into the chapter and found something that worked more strongly for me. See if this narrative, lifted from page 3, works for you in terms of creating tension and the other story factors.
Pam and I sit under the maple tree in my backyard. I slowly nibble the chocolate coating off my ice cream bar, trying to make it last as long as possible. A drop of ice cream dribbles on my hand and I suck it off.
Pam pokes a straw into her cherry sno-cone, “I don’t want summer to end.”
“Me neither.” Not true. School’s safer than home.
“In ten days, we’re going to have to get up early and sit in a stupid classroom.”
“You’re lucky. There’s no homework in first grade. In second, I’ll have tons.”
“Yech, homework.” Pam scrunches her nose.
After we finish our ice creams she stands. “Let’s find the boys.”
Throwing our sticks and wrappers in the garbage, we walk toward Pam’s house. Steve and Bobby jump out from behind the woodpile, grab us and shout, “Got ya.”
I get so tired of boy’s games.
A green Plymouth turns onto our street. Pam and the boys race toward my house shouting, “Shirley’s Daddy, Shirley’s Daddy.”
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