I did an “Ask the Editor” interview with AutoCrit last year, but never knew when it was posted. I just discovered it and thought to share it with you. For the complete interview, go here.
Meanwhile, here’s an excerpt.
AutoCrit: Can you walk us through an average day from an editor’s perspective? What’s your personal approach, technique or system for efficient editing? Have you developed any unique quirks that mark your style?
Ray Rhamey: I can only speak to what I do, and it makes more sense for me to speak of a project rather than a day. I edit novels. The first step is to read through the novel onscreen, using Word’s track changes and comments features to make corrections and notes about what I read. The primary purpose is to get a sense of story and character. Once done, I let it sit and percolate at the back of my mind for a couple of days, during which I’ll work on other projects.
I print out the novel and go through it again on hard copy, wielding a red pen, making copious notes. If there are structural issues, I’ll begin formulating what to do during this read. Once done, I enter the many changes I’ve noted into the document and then let it sit for a couple more days.
I go through the novel a third time onscreen, always catching even more punctuation and typographical errors. If structure needs work, I’ll rearrange what I can and also write up notes on what to change later. A few pages of notes are the final step, with comments on both the strengths and shortcomings I find, and how to deal with the shortcomings.
If there are any aspects of editing that I think I’m particularly good at, they are continuity, story, and character. For some reason, during an edit the whole book takes up residence in my mind after the first read, and inconsistencies that the writer and their beta readers have missed jump out at me. That ability helps eliminate little glitches that can take a reader out of the story. I also have a finger on the pace of a story, and coach/edit writers into a crisper pace when a narrative lags.
You may find the rest of the interview informative. Let me know if you have questions.
Submissions sought. Get fresh eyes on your opening page. Submission directions below.
The Flogometer challenge: can you craft a first page that compels me to turn to the next page? Caveat: Please keep in mind that this is entirely subjective.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page. Directions for submissions are below—they include a request to post the rest of the chapter, but that’s optional.
Donald Maass,, literary agent and author of many books on writing, says, “Independent editor Ray Rhamey’s first-page checklist is an excellent yardstick for measuring what makes openings interesting.”
A First-page Checklist
It begins to engage the reader with the character
Something is wrong/goes wrong or challenges the character
The character desires something.
The character takes action. Can be internal or external action: thoughts, deeds, emotions. This does NOT include musing about whatever.
There’s enough of a setting to orient the reader as to where things are happening.
It happens in the NOW of the story.
Backstory? What backstory? We’re in the NOW of the story.
Set-up? What set-up? We’re in the NOW of the story.
The one thing it must do: raise a story question.
Cindy sends the first chapter of When Dragons Wake. The rest of the chapter follows the break.
Cloaked in fur and illusion, Meretrix crept through the ruins of the ancient colonnade, her skin prickling with the spell that allowed her to pass, unseen. A wind too raw for early autumn whistled between the columns. As she neared the end of the corridor, the ground trembled and severed her concentration, and her glamor of nonbeing. She hunkered amid the rubble and waited for the quake to pass. Above the shattered roof, clouds scudded across the face of the moon and her red companion.
When the red star turns the night to blood,
Deo-Inneen, in flesh, shall come....
The Rhyme of the Prophecy still sent shivers through her, although Meretrix had little trust in a savior and less in the priests' scriptures.
When she was a child, the blood star had been a point of light marking the start of harvest season. In the decades since, the orb had swelled and tremors became more frequent. A fortnight ago, when the star stained the moonlight red, frightened worshipers crowded temples throughout the Redlans. Yesterday, the high priest himself came to the hold, unannounced, and today her youngest blood sister was dead, murdered by his inquisitors.
The Sisters had not helped her or intervened. A new Purge had begun and someone had to convince them to fight, if not for women of the Gift, then for themselves. Now that one of them (snip)
The writing and voice are clear and professional—the opening description was nicely magical. There’s tension in this immediate scene, and story questions—why is she concealing her presence? Is there danger?
But is that enough? There are missed opportunities, I think. For example, the Rhyme of the Prophecy gives her shivers, but why? There’s nothing in those words that seem threatening to me. I don’t get a sense of mission from this narrative, either. Yes, her sister is dead, but what is her purpose here? Is there danger of her being killed? That’s not clear at all.
I would work to get more into this page that creates jeopardy for her. For example, what would happen if she is caught? Would the consequences be dire? I’ve done some editing below that might free up a couple of lines, and I’d consider tightening this even more to create tension here. The rest of the chapter is equally well-written, though I felt that it, too, lacked a sense of what the character’s real problem is and what she needs to do about it. Cindy, consider the checklist item above about something that challenges the character. Make it happen sooner rather than later. Some editorial notes:
Cloaked in fur and illusion, Meretrix crept through the ruins of the ancient colonnade, her skin prickling with the spell that allowed her to pass, unseen. A wind too raw for early autumn whistled between the columns. As she neared the end of the corridor, the ground trembled and severed her concentration, and her glamor of nonbeing. She hunkered amid the rubble and waited for the quake to pass. Above the shattered roof, clouds scudded across the face of the moon and her red companion. My dictionary lists “glamour” as the first spelling, and I recommend it because it feels more exotic and magical to me. I used this concept in my novel, “Hiding Magic,” though it was differently done.
When the red star turns the night to blood,
Deo-Inneen, in flesh, shall come....
The Rhyme of the Prophecy still sent shivers through her, although Meretrix had little trust in a savior and less in the priests' scriptures.
When she was a child, the blood star had been a point of light marking the start of harvest season. In the decades since, the orb had swelled and tremors became more frequent. A fortnight ago, when the blood star stained the moonlight red, frightened worshipers crowded temples throughout the Redlans. Yesterday, the high priest himself camehad come to the hold, unannounced, and today her youngest blood sister was dead, murdered by his inquisitors. I’d cut the first two sentences—they are backstory, and don’t really contribute to the tension needed in a first page. Yes, it’s world-building, but that can wait. Shouldn’t this “his” be “her?” The antecedent for the pronoun is the sister, not the high priest. Also, the narrative doesn’t say that he also had inquisitors with him. It reads as though he was the inquisitor. A clarity issue. If the pronoun refers to her, then this might read “murdered by her inquisitor.” Or, if it’s to be the priest, then it should be “murdered during the high priest's inquisition.”
The Sisters had not helped her or intervened. A new Purge had begun and someone had to convince them to fight, if not for women of the Gift, then for themselves. Now that one of them (snip)
Submissions sought. Get fresh eyes on your opening page. Submission directions below.
The Flogometer challenge: can you craft a first page that compels me to turn to the next page? Caveat: Please keep in mind that this is entirely subjective.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page. Directions for submissions are below—they include a request to post the rest of the chapter, but that’s optional.
Donald Maass,, literary agent and author of many books on writing, says, “Independent editor Ray Rhamey’s first-page checklist is an excellent yardstick for measuring what makes openings interesting.”
A First-page Checklist
It begins to engage the reader with the character
Something is wrong/goes wrong or challenges the character
The character desires something.
The character takes action. Can be internal or external action: thoughts, deeds, emotions. This does NOT include musing about whatever.
There’s enough of a setting to orient the reader as to where things are happening.
It happens in the NOW of the story.
Backstory? What backstory? We’re in the NOW of the story.
Set-up? What set-up? We’re in the NOW of the story.
The one thing it must do: raise a story question.
JL sends the first chapter of The Rescue. The first 17 lines follow, the rest is after the break.
“Is anyone here?” Leonora whispered into an empty room of the plantation home. She listened carefully but heard only muffled voices from the parlor.
She moved on to the next room. Nearly everything that could be moved was already staged for the auction. “Anyone in here?” she whispered.
“Yes, I am,” said a loud voice that made Leonora jump. She saw then, standing in front of the bright window but obscured by a heavy fringed curtain, one of the auctioneer’s assistants. “Can I help you find something?”
Leonora backed into the hallway. “Just looking around.”
She proceeded through the bottom floor of the house, whispering into rooms and listening. More people arrived as the time for the auction approached, but still no more than 20 or so. She made her way to the main hall just as the auctioneer directed everyone to the front parlor.
Instead of joining them, she crossed the hall and entered the sitting room, crowded with furniture awaiting the auction block. A woman in white tennis shorts and a visor squinted at a fortepiano near the hall door. Leonora listened. From the far side of the room, she heard a small voice singing.
Though the last goodbye is spoken, and we breathe our farewell song, on the past, how (ship)
(snip)
The voice is clear and the writing strong. We open with an immediate scene in which something is happening. There is a sense of mystery about the character going from room to room asking if anyone is there.
Actually, it would be more effective if she first scans a room, sees nothing, and then asks the question. In the room where the woman is, she should see the woman and still ask her question. This clues the reader that what she’s doing doesn’t make sense . . . and that there must be a reason for it yet to be discovered. The mystery deepens.
But is what’s here enough? Is the “what’s she doing” story question strong enough? I don’t think so. Reading on, it seems that this is a ghost story, but we don’t have a clue yet. With editing, this first page could have that clue and create a stronger interest in turning the page. Here’s what I mean (the edited version). A poll follows.
“Is anyone here?” Leonora whispered into an empty room of the plantation home. She heard only muffled voices from auction in the parlor.
She moved on to the next room. A woman stood in front of a window. Lenora whispered, “Anyone in here?” she whispered.
“Yes, I am,” the woman said with a loud voice that made Leonora jump. “Can I help you find something?”
Leonora backed into the hallway. “Just looking around.”
She entered the sitting room, crowded with furniture awaiting the auction block. A woman in white tennis shorts squinted at a fortepiano. Leonora heard a small voice singing.
Though the last goodbye is spoken, and we breathe our farewell song, on the past, how memory lingers…
She saw no one there. She crossed the room and asked, “Is anyone here?”
The woman snorted. “Hello-oo,” she said.
The small voice continued, heavy with a Southern accent. Lo! The future! Hope’s bright fingers, lift new crowns, and beckon on…
It didn’t matter how hard she looked, she knew she could never see them unless they wanted to be seen. “You have a lovely singing voice,” Leonora said toward the wall.
Writers, send your prologue/first chapter to FtQ for a “flogging” critique. Email as an attachment.
Many of the folks who utilize BookBub are self-published, and because we hear over and over the need for self-published authors to have their work edited, it’s educational to take a hard look at their first pages. A poll follows concerning the need for an editor.
Donald Maass, literary agent and author of many books on writing, says, “Independent editor Ray Rhamey’s first-page checklist is an excellent yardstick for measuring what makes openings interesting.”
A First-page Checklist
It begins to engage the reader with the character
Something is wrong/goes wrong or challenges the character
The character desires something.
The character takes action. Can be internal or external action: thoughts, deeds, emotions. This does NOT include musing about whatever.
There’s enough of a setting to orient the reader as to where things are happening.
It happens in the NOW of the story.
Backstory? What backstory? We’re in the NOW of the story.
Set-up? What set-up? We’re in the NOW of the story.
The one thing it must do: raise a story question.
Next are the first 17 manuscript lines of the first chapter of a fantasy novel A Throne for Sisters. A poll and the opening page of the first chapter follow. Should this author have hired an editor?
Of all the things to hate in the House of the Unclaimed, the grinding wheel was the one Sophia dreaded most. She groaned as she pushed against an arm connected to the giant post that disappeared into the floor, while around her, the other orphans shoved against theirs. She ached and sweated as she pushed at it, her red hair matting with the work, her rough gray dress staining further with the sweat. Her dress was shorter than she wanted now, riding up with every stride to show the tattoo on her calf in the shape of a mask, marking her as what she was: an orphan, an owned thing.
The other girls there had things even worse. At seventeen, Sophia was at least one of the oldest and largest of them. The only person older in the room was Sister O’Venn. The nun of the Masked Goddess wore the jet black habit of her order, along with a lace mask that every orphan quickly learned she could see through, down to the smallest detail of failure. The sister held the leather strap that she used to dole out punishment, flexing it between her hands while she droned on in the background, uttering the words of the Book of Masks, homilies about the need to perfect abandoned souls such as them.
“In this place, you learn to be useful,” she intoned. “In this place, you learn to be valuable, as you were not to whatever fallen women gave birth to you. The Masked Goddess tells us that we must shape our place in the world through our efforts, and today your efforts turn the (snip)
This received 4.1 stars on Amazon. The writing, though it includes a couple of pov glitches and can be tightened, is good enough, and the voice is fine. We open in media res, a good thing, and are quickly introduced to a sympathetic character. Her situation is clearly already a bad one, and a reader can only hope that she finds a way out of it. Those elements were enough for a page turn for me, but the narrative had better pay off soon.
This author missed an opportunity to make the page more compelling. Here’s a quick edit that adds on a couple of lines that make it stronger:
Of all the things to hate in the House of the Unclaimed, the grinding wheel was the one Sophia dreaded most. She groaned as she pushed against an arm connected to the giant post that disappeared into the floor, while around her, the other orphans shoved against theirs. She ached and sweated as she pushed at it, her red hair matting with the work, her rough gray dress staining further with the sweat. Her dress was shorter than she wanted now, riding up with every stride to show the mask tattoo on her calf in the shape of a mask, marking her as what she was: an orphan, an owned thing. These glimpses of color break POV—she would not be thinking of those details just now.
The other girls there had things even worse. At seventeen, Sophia was at least one of the oldest and largest of the girlsthem. The only person older in the room was Sister O’Venn. The nun of the Masked Goddess wore the jet black habit of her order, along with a lace mask that every orphan quickly learned she could see through, down to the smallest detail of failure. The sister held the leather strap that she used to dole out punishment, flexing it between her hands while she droned on in the background, uttering the words of the Book of Masks, homilies about the need to perfect abandoned souls such as them. “things even worse is vague and basically useless. Lose it.
“In this place, you learn to be useful,” she intoned. “In this place, you learn to be valuable, as you were not to whatever fallen women gave birth to you. The Masked Goddess tells us that we must shape our place in the world through our efforts, and today your efforts turn the quernsthat grind the corn and—pay attention, Sophia!”
Sophia flinched at the impact of her belt as it cracked out. She gritted her teeth.I think these two added lines raise a good "what happens next" story question.
Would you be more likely to turn the page with that change? If you would have, tell me in a comment and choose the “story” option in this poll:
Writers, send your prologue/first chapter to FtQ for a “flogging” critique. Email as an attachment.
Many of the folks who utilize BookBub are self-published, and because we hear over and over the need for self-published authors to have their work edited, it’s educational to take a hard look at their first pages. A poll follows concerning the need for an editor.
Donald Maass, literary agent and author of many books on writing, says, “Independent editor Ray Rhamey’s first-page checklist is an excellent yardstick for measuring what makes openings interesting.”
A First-page Checklist
It begins to engage the reader with the character
Something is wrong/goes wrong or challenges the character
The character desires something.
The character takes action. Can be internal or external action: thoughts, deeds, emotions. This does NOT include musing about whatever.
There’s enough of a setting to orient the reader as to where things are happening.
It happens in the NOW of the story.
Backstory? What backstory? We’re in the NOW of the story.
Set-up? What set-up? We’re in the NOW of the story.
The one thing it must do: raise a story question.
Next are the first 17 manuscript lines of the first chapter in the first book of a collection of three in Wands in a Lifetime. A poll follows. Should this author have hired an editor?
Four point seven miles to go.
I peered through the windshield at the towering evergreens and intimidating rock formations. How could anyone possibly live around here? There were no houses in sight. The only signs of life were roadkill so…okay, no signs of life then. Even the radio station had given up. At least my phone was—
Uh oh.
The screen was still telling me to turn right in four point seven miles. Sayonara signal.
“This day gets more perfect by the minute.” It started off on the wrong foot when the battery in my alarm clock chose today to die after I’d struggled through another night of insomnia. Then I couldn’t find a matching pair of trouser socks thanks to the hungry sock monster that apparently lived in the tumble dryer in the basement of my apartment building. So now I was the proud wearer of one navy blue sock and one black sock. Close enough that the client wouldn’t notice…probably because she’d be too busy berating me for my tardiness. Without a phone signal, I couldn’t even call to let her know. I hoped she was the forgiving type. I didn’t have much information beyond her name, phone number, and address since this was to be our first time meeting.
I watched intently for signs of a right turn. Any sign. Eventually, I came upon a dirt road.
This received 4.7 stars on Amazon. There are times I just want a fun read, and a cozy mystery is often a good option, especially when written with tongue in cheek. The quirky voice in this page promises that.
Was the voice enough for you? Knowing that this is a mystery, the voice was enough to get me to read on. However, the page could have been stronger. I would eliminate the following narrative:
Close enough that the client wouldn’t notice…probably because she’d be too busy berating me for my tardiness. Without a phone signal, I couldn’t even call to let her know. I hoped she was the forgiving type. I didn’t have much information beyond her name, phone number, and address since this was to be our first time meeting.
(Note: the mismatched socks are used later, so it needed to stay)
And then move this to the first page after she turns on the dirt road:
A shimmering lake came into view on my right. With looming boulders and majestic trees, it was incredibly scenic.
Except for the guy standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to jump.
Wait. What?
If all three books are this much fun, it's a steal at "free." What do you think about the edit? Would you be more likely to turn the page with that change? If you would have, tell me in a comment and choose the “craft” option in this poll:
Writers, send your prologue/first chapter to FtQ for a “flogging” critique. Email as an attachment.
Many of the folks who utilize BookBub are self-published, and because we hear over and over the need for self-published authors to have their work edited, it’s educational to take a hard look at their first pages. A poll follows concerning the need for an editor.
Donald Maass, literary agent and author of many books on writing, says, “Independent editor Ray Rhamey’s first-page checklist is an excellent yardstick for measuring what makes openings interesting.”
A First-page Checklist
It begins to engage the reader with the character
Something is wrong/goes wrong or challenges the character
The character desires something.
The character takes action. Can be internal or external action: thoughts, deeds, emotions. This does NOT include musing about whatever.
There’s enough of a setting to orient the reader as to where things are happening.
It happens in the NOW of the story.
Backstory? What backstory? We’re in the NOW of the story.
Set-up? What set-up? We’re in the NOW of the story.
The one thing it must do: raise a story question.
Next are the first 17 manuscript lines of the first chapter in A Hard Place. A poll and the opening page of the first chapter follow. Should this author have hired an editor?
He never saw it coming. Which was surprising, since as the doorman he was presumably the club’s bouncer. He was certainly big enough. He had at least four inches and fifty pounds on me, and he grabbed my lapel with a hand the size of a Frisbee. But he was soft, and slack, and apparently slow. It would seem all he had was size. That was probably enough to keep the drunks and yokels at bay.
I trapped the hand gripping my coat with my right and stepped back. It pulled the big man towards me, off balance, and straightened out his arm. Pivoting, I slammed my left palm into his elbow against the joint. I was rewarded with a howl of pain. I stepped back even further, still retaining the offending hand. I threw a left hook which connected along his jawline, and smashed my elbow into his face on the return. He let go. I didn’t.
I stepped back once again, which pulled him to his knees. Still holding his now limp hand, I side-kicked him in the ribs. I pulled the kick at the last instant to take the edge off. I wanted to put him down; not into a coma. The air whooshed out of him and he slid from his knees to the ground. He wrapped both hands around his chest and went fetal, his eyes pleading.
“Stay down,” I told him. “You’re only hurt. If you get up, I’ll cripple you.”
The bouncer grimaced and nodded his assent. I looked around, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim light.
I enjoy tough-guy rule-breaker thrillers/action novels, and this one sets the tone right away. I think the writing could be tightened and does need some editing, but for me the story questions and the character were enough to get a page-turn.
On the editing side, it was little overwriting isues, such as: I trapped histhe hand gripping my coat with my right; I stepped back again andeven further, still retaining the offending hand. I threw a left hook; he slid from his knees to the ground. Your thoughts?
Submissions sought. Get fresh eyes on your opening page. Submission directions below.
The Flogometer challenge: can you craft a first page that compels me to turn to the next page? Caveat: Please keep in mind that this is entirely subjective.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page. Directions for submissions are below—they include a request to post the rest of the chapter, but that’s optional.
Donald Maass,, literary agent and author of many books on writing, says, “Independent editor Ray Rhamey’s first-page checklist is an excellent yardstick for measuring what makes openings interesting.”
A First-page Checklist
It begins to engage the reader with the character
Something is wrong/goes wrong or challenges the character
The character desires something.
The character takes action. Can be internal or external action: thoughts, deeds, emotions. This does NOT include musing about whatever.
There’s enough of a setting to orient the reader as to where things are happening.
It happens in the NOW of the story.
Backstory? What backstory? We’re in the NOW of the story.
Set-up? What set-up? We’re in the NOW of the story.
The one thing it must do: raise a story question.
Alison sends the first chapter of a lower YA fantasy, The Girl with the Dragon-racoon. The first 17 lines follow, the rest is after the break.
Twenty minutes into her journey, and with at least twenty more to come, Emma fought the urge to pull into a side road and turn around, her irritation at being deceived rising. Not that she should have been surprised, given all the other instances where the truth had been bent a little. This would have to be the last time, whatever happened. She’d had enough.
Time, alarmingly, was marching on. Maybe a straight section of road would be just around the next corner, and she’d be able to go a little faster. At least to the speed limit. She rounded the bend, peering ahead, and the sight that greeted her had her hitting the brake hard, teeth clenched, hands tight around the steering wheel. A flatbed truck was approaching, only on her side of the road as it attempted to pass another vehicle.
The truck swung back to its own side, tipping perilously as it did so, and the driver, erudite fellow as he must have been, leaned out of his open window and flicked her a V sign whilst mouthing furious profanities.
Emma’s mouth fell open and she watched the truck disappear through her rear view mirror. Charming, she thought. Well good luck to him. It mattered little to her that his life expectancy would likely be short, but she felt sorry for any innocent party he might end up taking out with him. It was a scary thought – destiny dictating that you would cross paths with the likes of him, and being a safe and conscientious driver would matter not. Your fate would be (snip)
The writing is just fine in this opening, and it does open with an immediate scene. There’s a bit of tension with the oncoming truck, but that’s soon resolved. Emma is anxious, needing to get somewhere without breaking a time limit.
But where? Why? Does something on this page endanger her from achieving her goal? What are the stakes of not being on time? If it’s a job interview, it could mean the loss of the opportunity—but we don’t know that. And how bad can that be?
And that’s the primary problem for me with this opening. There’s no hint of what the story is about, it is devoted solely to driving to somewhere, and nothing goes wrong with that. In a recent post on Writer Unboxed, author Kathyn Craft says this:
Effective opening scenes orient your reader to a story’s core conflict while raising pertinent questions about the plot to come.
That’s basically what I advocate here on FtQ. In this opening scene, we don’t have an idea of what the story is about, much less its core conflict (and I’m talking about the whole chapter here, not just the first page). There are no story questions raised. No stakes related to either action or inaction. In other words, no tension to drive a reader to turn the page.
I think we have here a narrative that starts way too soon in the arc of the story. This is all setup, not story. The writing is good and Alison has a clear grasp of her character, so I encourage her to look further for the place where something goes wrong for Emma that is related to the story and begins to show how she deals with it. And there should be meaningful stakes—not getting a job is, ordinarily, not a terrible event.
Submissions sought. Get fresh eyes on your opening page. Submission directions below.
The Flogometer challenge: can you craft a first page that compels me to turn to the next page? Caveat: Please keep in mind that this is entirely subjective.
What's a first page in publishingland? In a properly formatted novel manuscript (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type, etc.) there should be about 16 or 17 lines on the first page. Directions for submissions are below—they include a request to post the rest of the chapter, but that’s optional.
Donald Maass,, literary agent and author of many books on writing, says, “Independent editor Ray Rhamey’s first-page checklist is an excellent yardstick for measuring what makes openings interesting.”
A First-page Checklist
It begins to engage the reader with the character
Something is wrong/goes wrong or challenges the character
The character desires something.
The character takes action. Can be internal or external action: thoughts, deeds, emotions. This does NOT include musing about whatever.
There’s enough of a setting to orient the reader as to where things are happening.
It happens in the NOW of the story.
Backstory? What backstory? We’re in the NOW of the story.
Set-up? What set-up? We’re in the NOW of the story.
The one thing it must do: raise a story question.
Barbara sends the first chapter of a lower YA fantasy, The Girl with the Dragon-racoon. The first 17 lines follow, the rest is after the break.
James Bond got it all wrong. Spy work wasn’t exciting. It sucked. Badly.
Tyro wiped her clammy hands on the skirt of her school uniform, staring at the darn filing cabinet in Mum’s dental clinic office. The blasted thing didn’t want to open, no matter how hard Tyro pulled the handle. Even the keys she’d found in the desk drawer didn’t work. When Mum said she took her clients’ privacy seriously, she meant it. As if having rotten teeth and cavities was such a huge secret.
Tyro turned to the closed door of the office. Mum’s voice drifted from the waiting room as she talked with a patient. Renzy, the receptionist, chatted on the phone in her high-pitched voice that could splinter rocks. No one should enter the office for now unless Mum needed one of her patients’ files.
Tyro grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk and slid a blade into the narrow gap over the top drawer of the cabinet. Applying a light pressure, she fiddled with the metal hook that locked the drawer. No luck. It didn’t budge.
“Blast!” She tossed the scissors on the desk, kicked the cabinet, and grimaced when a loud thud resounded. If Mum caught Tyro snooping around, she’d ground her forever. But Mum had put the report from the police in the cabinet, and Tyro needed to read it. The police might’ve discovered something about Dad’s murderer. She swallowed the knot that clogged her throat every time she (snip)
I like the voice, which feels right for a teenage girl. The scene is set, and the action is clear. But, for me, maybe there was too much of the latter—even though there was a good story-question hook in the last line about her Dad’s murder. There are fun and interesting paranormal elements to this world, but no hint on the first page. IMO, way too much time is spent on working on the cabinet.
Rather than doing an extensive commentary, I’m just going to edit and move good stuff onto the first page. A second poll follows. Meanwhile, this world does seem very entertaining, and a murder in a paranormal world could be fun.
For what it’s worth.
Revised version:
James Bond got it all wrong. Spy work wasn’t exciting. It sucked. Badly. Tyro wiped her clammy hands on her skirt, staring at the darn filing cabinet in Mum’s dental clinic office. The keys she’d found in the desk wouldn’t open it. Mum took her clients’ privacy seriously. As if having rotten teeth and cavities was such a huge secret.
But she wouldn’t quit. Mum had put the police report in the cabinet, and the police might’ve discovered something about Dad’s murderer. She swallowed the knot that clogged her throat every time she thought about Dad.
The cabinet key had to be in a place where no one would ever search like … the forbidden fridge. It stood in a corner, half-covered by a giant rhododendron, and contained food for Mum’s not-human patients. Not-human … monstrous was more like it.
Tyro went to the fridge, her sneakers leaving marks on the blue rug a vampire had once ripped in two after reading the bill for cleaning his fangs.
She crouched and read the bright red letters on the sign that said, “Underworld-lings food only, not adapted for human consumption. Keep out of the reach of children.” The warning had to be exaggerated. Vampires, werewolves, and zombies had to eat something normal people would enjoy. They had bad teeth like humans, judging by how busy Mum’s schedule was.
She opened the door one inch at a time as if handling a bomb. A rancid smell, like a (snip)
A recent article on Writer Unboxed titled "Putting Your Words on Trial" by Julie Carrick Dalton resonated with me—and issued a challenge, too, because I’m close to going back through my WIP.
It’s an article well worth reading. She started her adventure in word-judging by looking at her manuscript at the chapter level. She asked her chapters this question:
What is your purpose? The answer on the chapter level must relate to plot. Does this chapter or scene either move the plot forward or fundamentally develop a character or relationship? If a chapter’s purpose was rooted in setting, mood, theme, or pretty language, I stopped and reconsidered. Would anyone miss you if you disappeared forever?
When she summarizes her approach, it involved four steps, the first being chapters:
Put your chapters and scenes on the stand.
Why are you here?
Would anyone care or notice if you ceased to exist?
Are you vital to the plot?
Are you crucial to developing character?
Do you move the plot forward by building suspense?
Do you create vital story questions that move the plot forward?
My favorite item on the list is the last one about story questions. She goes on to dig deeper and deeper, and that’s why this is worth reading.