Flog a Pro: would you turn this bestselling author’s first page?
By Ray Rhamey | December 18, 2014 |
Trained by reading hundreds of submissions, editors and agents often make their read/not-read decision on the first page. In a customarily formatted book manuscript with chapters starting about 1/3 of the way down the page (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type), there are 16 or 17 lines on the first page.
The challenge: does this narrative compel you to turn the page?
Please judge by storytelling quality, not by genre—some reject an opening page immediately because of genre, but that’s not a good enough reason when the point is to analyze for storytelling strength.
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A First-page Checklist
- It begins connecting the reader with the protagonist
- Something is happening. On a first page, this does NOT include a character musing about whatever.
- What happens is dramatized in an immediate scene with action and description plus, if it works, dialogue.
- What happens moves the story forward.
- What happens has consequences for the protagonist.
- The protagonist desires something.
- The protagonist does something.
- 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.
- What happens raises a story question—what happens next? or why did that happen?
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This novel was in first place on the New York Times hardcover fiction bestseller list for December 7, 2014. How strong is the opening page—would this have hooked an agent if it came in from an unpublished writer? Do you think it’s compelling? Reminder: “compelling” is much different than “interesting”—it means that you are irresistibly urged to turn the page by what you’ve read. Following are what would be the first 16 lines of Chapter 1.
THE PRISON LOOKED more like the campus of a community college than a place where men were kept in cells for ten years or longer for offenses committed while wearing the uniform of their country. There were no guard towers, but there were two staggered twelve-foot-tall security fences, armed patrols, and enough surveillance cameras to keep an electronic eye on virtually every millimeter of the place. Situated at the northern end of Fort Leavenworth, the United States Disciplinary Barracks sat next to the Missouri River on nearly forty rolling, forested Kansas acres, a mound of brick and razor wire cradled by a green hand . It was the only maximum-security military prison for males in the country.
America’s foremost military prison was called the USDB, or the DB for short. The Leavenworth federal penitentiary for civilians, one of three prisons on the grounds of Fort Leavenworth, was four miles to the south. Along with the Joint Regional Correctional Facility—also for military prisoners—there was a fourth privately operated prison in Leavenworth, which raised the total inmate population among the four prisons to about five thousand. The Leavenworth Tourism Bureau, apparently seeking to capitalize on any bit of notoriety to lure visitors to the area, had incorporated the prison angle into its promotional brochures with the phrase “Doin’ time in Leavenworth.”
My vote and editorial notes after the fold.
Did you recognize David Baldacci and his The Escape? Was this opening page compelling if you picked it up to sample it in a bookstore?
My vote: Nope
Here’s something that Donald Maass said in one of his workshops at the 2014 Writer Unboxed Unconference: that it’s engagement with the protagonist that matters the most in creating a narrative that keeps the pages turning, and a lack of that is usually the first way good manuscripts fall short. He said that he feels engagement with a character is best begun on the first page.
That makes sense to me, especially coming from a man who has read and analyzed hundreds of novels. And that’s why this novel’s first page gets a no from me. There’s not even the hint of a person or character. Nor of a story. It is, no doubt, a fine summary of research about a prison. I can tell you that the first chapter is pretty much the same until, on the very last page, a prisoner mysteriously escapes from the prison. But, if I were picking this book up to look at in a bookstore or scrolling through sample pages on Amazon, I would never have gotten there.
I wish someone could tell me why best-selling authors who are clearly strong storytellers indulge in these hundreds on hundreds of words of exposition and set-up before getting to the story. It’s so similar to the chapter submissions I see from unpublished authors—the info-dumping of things that the writer believes the reader HAS to know . . . and almost invariably doesn’t.
It’s not that bestselling authors can’t write an opening page that captures us with a character and a story. So why not start with that rather than an info-dump? While I have not read the novel, I will wager you that an intimate and detailed knowledge of the nature of this prison does not impact the story in any way. The only important story aspect of the first chapter is the prisoner and his escape.
Your thoughts? Would you have turned the page?
If you’d like to help beginning novelists with your constructive criticism, join me on Wednesdays and Fridays for floggings at my site, Flogging the Quill.
Ray Rhamey is the author of five novels and one writing craft book, Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling. He’s also an editor of book-length fiction and designs book covers and interiors for Indie authors and small presses. His website, crrreative.com, offers an a la carte menu of creative services for writers and publishers. Learn more about Ray’s books at rayrhamey.com.
This was a no for me. While I love a good prison story, I don’t want a travelogue. Had he gotten into something happening in paragraph 2, something involving actual people, or had the prose been ‘knock your socks off’ quality, I could have kept reading.
There was nothing in the sample to pull me into the story, and I could barely finish reading that much of it, so no.
Yes, actually. What a lot of writers miss is that a place can be as much of a character as a person, and I am highly interested in this place of Leavenworth, and how someone will be escaping from it.
Were I reading this book, I’d make it all the way to the end of the first chapter, when it was clear my favorite character (the prison) wasn’t going to be featured anymore…
I agree with Azuaron about setting becoming a character and how evocative that is (ex. Manderley in Rebecca). I love that in novels. But to have that happen there must be an emotional presence of the place and a provocative perspective on the part of the narrator or character in the novel that establishes that unique presence. I didn’t get any of that from Baldacci’s opening prose. It read more like a journalist’s report of a factual location than a characterization.
I agree that place has significant importance to a story. He accomplished that, and had my interest, in the first paragraph. But to go on and on about place lost me. My interest would have held if there was action after that first paragraph. But the second graph read like something from a Leavenworth brochure. That’s why I voted no.
I voted No too – for exactly the same reason as jeffo – I was expecting something to happen, a character to be introduced, in the 2nd paragraph, but what I got was an essay on the history of the prison.
My vote is no as well. But, I’ve read some of Baldacci’s books before and pretty much have expectations, like his fans do, that he will deliver a thrilling story. I’ve read so many best selling authors with openings that fail your checklist. I doubt that the general reader demands this checklist to be fulfilled. Balducci’s book will be a success anyway because of his reputation. Which makes me think that there’s a double standard set by agents and publishers/editors: one for new authors and one for established authors. Do you think? Was it Donald Maas who said somewhere that there should be no backstory in the first 20 pages (Don, is that correct?)? Lots of highly praised novelists fail that.
Info dumps do not make compelling openings. ‘Nuff said.
Ray–
On the basis of your criterion (not just interesting, but compelling) I voted no. But I think some question is raised when you wonder why it is that best-selling authors are often guilty of too much exposition, of the info dumps you often see committed by unskilled writers. Either the editors working on these successful books know something you don’t, or they just roll over and play dead for big-name authors like David Baldacci.
But there’s another possibility: when done well, and in moderation, exposition can raise reader expectation, and willingness to wait for what Donald Maass rightly says is of first and foremost importance to the reader: engagement with the book’s protagonist. Maass has also written about how tiresome it is to come across one more predictable, hyperthyroid opening (or climax) full of explosions, mayhem, all-too-overworked gimmicks to gin up tension, etc.
I take my vote back–I would turn the page, for this very reason: the writer is writing a thriller, but he is not resorting to the same-old same-old strategies.
One thing did throw me, though: “It was the only maximum-security military prison for males in the country.” Maybe it’s just me, but I initially thought this was a typo–“maximum-security prison for miles in the country.” This doubt caused me to lose focus and engagement. Were I the author’s editor, I’d ask him to reword the sentence: “It was the only maximum-security military prison in the country for men,” or “the country’s only maximum-security military prison for males,” etc.
I agree with Barry and Azuaron. I would turn the page. I was drawn into the description of the prison, but perhaps that is because it was an unknown world, and fascinating. And it does seem to portent something doomish to come. I want to know what happens next.
BTW, I am going to Amazon now to buy this for my hubby for Christmas. Does that disqualify my vote? :) Perhaps we’ll have to see if he turns the page.
Loaded with passive voice, exposition dump, nothing happening, no idea who inhabits the story. That’s more than four strikes right there. Nope for me too.
I wouldn’t read on, but this novel is aimed at a certain type of male reader, and Baldacci’s success shows that he is reaching his intended audience. Some readers are more intrigued by big ideas and unusual settings than by characters. Plenty of best sellers are crammed with action and unusual settings but are populated by cardboard characters.
I voted no of course, like everyone else. But then I read this last comment from Barry Knister and I have to say he does make a good point. True, info-dumps should be avoided and in principle do not constitute in any sense of the word a good opening. But given our current eco-system focused on tears and sweat, it is certainly a nice change to read something about the background of the story (after all, if you’re looking at it in a bookstore, you were presumably attracted by the book cover and it is full of suspense, with a mysterious running figure). So, in that context, you know you’re not reading a piece of non-fiction (which is what it feels like) but actually the opening to a thriller…
Also the name of the author has a role to play here: you don’t expect to be bored by Baldacci’s writing. Hence, you are willing to read on. Not “compelled” perhaps, but willing. That’s the big advantage best selling authors have over the rest of us, poor scribeners who have to resort to fireworks to draw readers’ attention! And the fireworks are sure tiring…and a little monotonous. Always the same shootings and cries and people dropping dead, hmmmm, boring!
Yes, I do think that’s the explanation for what seems like a mystery to you: why big writers indulge in boring openings and can get away with it!
I suggest that openings like this one from best-selling authors aren’t the lazy writing they might appear but, instead, represent an experiment, a branching out on the writer’s part. You can’t keep turning out the same book–editors and readers demand “fresh.” With the security of your reputation, you can vary your approach, focus on a big name setting like Leavenworth, treat it as a character, work on establishing that place as a major player in the story.
Some experiments succeed, some fail. I don’t read Baldacci so I wouldn’t have kept going unless it was my only option on a rainy day at the beach.
I understand the “setting as character” argument, but this reads like something from a novice author who is trying to impress the reader with the preciseness of his research. If there was a story question raised, I must have missed it. Still, it’s fascinating to see how each reader perceives the same piece of writing differently. Thanks, Ray.
Ray-
I see that the vote today is overwhelmingly “no”. Yet Baldacci’s novel is at the top of the Times list. Huh? Perhaps it’s as Barry says, this is a thriller and it’s meeting the expectations of Baldacci’s audience, me included.
I think, though, that we can turn today’s vote into something useful that we can use.
As you quote me saying, Ray, hooking us and engaging us are two different things. One comes from externals, the other comes from involving us with a character. The latter is a two-sided process that simultaneously causes us to care and to worry.
In Baldacci’s opening paragraph, I was hooked by the moody presentation of the prison. That done, I felt ready to move on to the true story, which can only be about a character and his inner conflicts. I was ready to become engaged.
Instead paragraph two merely repeats (or more generously, develops and deepens) paragraph one. How could Baldacci have made that more effective? By switching from objective narration to subjective POV.
In other words, he could have done the same thing but made it matter in some way (however small or brief) to whichever POV character he’s chosen. The geographic location of the prison is significant. Once we understand *to whom* it’s significant…well, then we have engagement.
So, what’s that mean for WU community writers? It means go ahead and atmosphere away…just put all that moodiness, dread and meaning into the mind of a character. Make it part–or even just a portent–of inner conflict and already you go from dry geography to liquid gold, the gold that can only be mined in the human heart.
Happy holidays, Ray. Will be in touch with you directly later today.
I couldn’t agree with you more, Don. If this had been what I call “experiential description,” that is description filtered through and colored by a character, it could have been much more effective. For that matter, why not start with a character’s pov in the first paragraph?
I was on board for graf one, especially this line: “The prison looked more like the campus of a community college than a place where men were kept in cells for ten years or longer for offenses committed while wearing the uniform of their country.” The juxtaposition of prisoners with servicemen and a prison with a college campus was an intriguing hook, but then the second graf went into bland exposition on the prison, and I tuned out.
A few people asked why bestsellers often have these unnecessary “bringing the reader up to speed” lead-ins to the actual story, and as an editor who has worked in the industry for more than twenty years, I have a thought about that. Quite often when I work on manuscripts from authors who have been very successful, I’m told, “The author doesn’t want a heavy editorial hand on this.” With a few I’ve been told to do almost nothing, per author preference. Newer authors don’t necessarily have the “clout” to request and get this from their publisher, but a multipublished bestseller certainly does. In my opinion, the lack of editorial objectivity and feedback for authors can lead to a manuscript that’s not as tight and polished as it could be. No matter how accomplished or experienced an author, I don’t believe it’s possible to get complete objectivity about one’s own work–an author can’t usually know what’s on the page versus what she is filling in within her own head because she knows the story so well.
But also, the market has changed since I started working in publishing. Our attention spans have shortened, and books now have dive in immediately or readers tune out. We’re conditioned for this now, and we want it–we want to be grabbed by the throat on the first page. But pick up a classic of literature sometime and note how it’s much less in-your-face. The author can take his or her time, paint a picture, seduce the reader in slowly. It’s hard to blame an author for wanting to let the line out a bit and not always have to hook the reader on page one, although I think in most genres, readers demand it. (I often think of that killer first line of GONE GIRL: “When I think of my wife, I always think of her head.” Who wasn’t all in after that lead?)
Boy, this is my strongest “No!” in a long time. It was a “no” from the first lugubrious sentence. Your analysis was spot on, Ray. Yikes!
I voted “yes” only because I love prison movies and prison books and was hoping it would get better down the road. When Mr. Kinster wrote: “editors….they just roll over and play dead for big-name authors like David Baldacci”, I have to agree. To me, it’s common knowledge that for many a well-known author, s/he can write whatever and however the hell they want to write because they have a fan base. For the writers I read I don’t even look to see what the book is about. I just buy it because I like their style and am assured it will be a good book. I think this is what happens a lot with the well-knowns. And, I’m betting that Baldacci delivers – down the road.
Definitely got a no from me. I heard Chuck Sambuchino talk about this last year at a conference. He likened beginnings like this to the set-up shots in a movie that start wide and zoom in on a character. Of course, he said, you can’t (maybe shouldn’t) do this in a book. In a novel you want to start narrow and slowly widen your scope. I think many authors must start with the wide angle shots because we are so influenced by visual media and they feel the need to set the scene so the reader can picture it “correctly.” But, as you rightly pointed out, we almost certainly don’t need the layout and history of a prison UNTIL we need it (if we ever do) for the actual events that are happening to a character we care about.
This book will appeal to a certain type of reader because of its slower introduction which sets the scene well: for example the phrase ‘a mound of brick and razor wire cradled by a green hand’ invites us to dwell on the setting and shows a more literary tone than the average thriller.
The complexity of the description also tells us this is a book where we will need to retain a lot of detailed information.
To me, the initial page sets the tone, and the beginning signals to the reader what type of book to expect. Those that want non-stop action will reject this book, but those that want to think and take their time might not. I was prepared to wait and see, as I’m not always convinced by gimmicky grabs on page 1. I want to be convinced the author has a meaty story to tell, and the level of detail here reassured me.
That’s a big negatory. I felt sleepy after reading that.
Beyond the obvious point of “nothing happened, at all, not even a character” it’s just not that well written. Descriptions can be engaging and lively, and setting a scene can invoke the imagination. This read like a managerial report, albeit with poorly judged imagery. The green hand was especially bad.
I agree with Tiffany’s comments–lately I’ve seen a lot of writing from established authors that could be better with some editing. Perhaps that is why we sometimes see decline in quality as the number of books published increase. Frankly, I think the bar is set so high by agents and editors to weed out submissions quickly. That first book has to be well nigh perfect in every aspect.
No. It reads like the beginning of an article or non-fiction book and it doesn’t have anything to spark my interest. I’d like to have seen something unexpected, a little creativity worked into the description.
When I think of setting as a character I think of novels like Titus Groan (the first of the Gormenghast books by Mervyn Peake), or Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier, or even Harry Potter.
Then again, there’s a reason I don’t normally read thrillers/crime fiction/mysteries, apart from those written by Agatha Christie.
I was already bored after 2 sentences.
I voted no. I like prison stories, but I found that opening section dull and frankly not very well written.
The author is famous, so loyal readers will slog through it, to get to the good stuff. But I suspect an aspiring and unknown debut novelist would find this opening page rejected by most agents – and by most readers.
Dare I suggest this is irresponsible writing and/or publishing?
Irresponsible, because people are going to think, “Yes, I can write like that David Baldacci guy”, they are probably correct (except, of course, their novel won’t have David Baldacci’s name on the cover).
So they write the novel, and submit it, agents and publishers moan because people are writing too much boring exposition at the start and not getting in to the story.
Maybe it is experimental, as suggested above. But I thought experimental meant something new, not a return to the outdated.
Nope. You pretty much summed up what I would say–no characters, no story, just info-dump.
I said no because of the “compelled” qualification, but I was interested. Presumably the escapee will be ex-military, so he’ll be more skilled than most cons, and given the might of the establishment opposing him, he’s got a difficult task. I’m predisposed to think of him as an underdog and want to root for him. But pages of this before we’d meet the character? I wouldn’t have the patience.
It’s interesting to notice the tension created between the title and this first page. Had it been given a title which didn’t imply conflict, would be different.
I don’t have a problem attributing settings to characters, as part of what they’re experiencing, or even not consciously relating to, but I wasn’t compelled. Interested, yes. Even curious. But even now, with what I’ve read in the comments, still not compelled. As mentioned by others, hooked but not engaged.
I’m not a proponent of or advocate for, as Barry says, “hyperthyroid openings.” The whole point here is that these writers ARE capable of writing a compelling narrative that is STORY. Yet . . . they don’t apply that mastery to the openings of their novels. My question is, why not? If you can engage a reader on page one, why would you not want to do that? Or why would an editor not want his writer to do that? And ask him/her to? Would David Baldacci, if he saw these comments and the poll, consider rethinking how he opens this story? BTW, I happen to be a fan of his, so there’s nothing personal here.
You’re right, Ray, I’m sure every editor wants his writer to engage the reader on page one…but in Baldacci’s case, with that name and fan base, it’s no longer a necessity, is it? He can “afford” to lead in his fan base in any way he chooses…I honestly believe that’s what happened here. Baldacci exercised his freedom as a best-selling author – and what he wanted to do was to attempt “painting” the decor the way it’s done in 19th century novels, with solid research rearing its ugly head in the details.
In a way, what he’s done is signal “hey guys, listen carefully, I’ve done my research here and I’m about to take you into a brand new world that I bet you don’t know…” It is a subtle way to engage readers but I assume that since his book sells, it works! Again, that such a path cannot be followed by unknown, self-published authors is self-evident.
Claude, what you say (“since his book sells, it works”) reminds me of an article I read recently. Someone has researched how many people who buy bestsellers actually finish those books. Turns out that many readers don’t, whereas some authors who sold fewer copies had their books finished by their readers more often. So “bestselling” author is not the same as “most read” author. The list of most read authors they compiled was very different from the bestseller list. I can’t remember where I saw the article, but I thought it was quite interesting.
The first paragraph sparked interest, but it went rapidly downhill from there and my eyes glazed over. I would have expected to see a character introduced in the second para. I would not have read on to find out what – if anything – happened.
I love thrillers, and even if this description was meant as foreshadowing, it failed. There was no hint of any action or even a protagonist to feel it. There is no tension, it read like a travelogue to me, as well, as another commenter said. So, I voted no. I wouldn’t read on.
Hi there, First time commenting but I’ve been reading for awhile.
This isn’t the type of novel that would grab my interest normally, but I vote yes to reading on. As others have mentioned, setting is important, and a lot can be done with it in terms of foreshadowing and much more. It can be fascinating and just as important as character.
Clearly, this is where the action will take place: “there was a fourth privately operated prison in Leavenworth….” To me, this is the hook. This introduces (a little) suspense. What will happen there? (Now if I’ve got that wrong, blame the author :)
This building and locale will play a role in the escape (or it should): “the United States Disciplinary Barracks sat next to the Missouri River on nearly forty rolling, forested Kansas acres”
I suspect the big action will take place in the river and forest. If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t belong here.
The obstacles to the goal (escape, as we know from the title) include the “razor wire,” which conjures images of bloody arms and legs for me. More obstacles: “There were no guard towers, but there were two staggered twelve-foot-tall security fences, armed patrols, and enough surveillance cameras to keep an electronic eye on virtually every millimeter of the place.”
Stretching big time here, the absence of “towers” could symbolize a few things. It’s a stretch, but it suggests a lack of life, a listlessness, a flatness, perhaps a lack of…manliness. Freudian, I know. A flat landscape that feeds the desire to escape…to life. A stretch, but this is at the beginning, though, so it had better mean something. Maybe that’s made clear later on.
That said, this could have been done better. I’m allergic to sentences that start with “There were” or there are” and two in a row is a but much :)
Thanks for the interesting exercise :)
Ray,
As displayed above, the WU community displays wonderful intelligence and many voices here speak honestly, while allowing how their views might need adjustment. I predict some fabulous first pages will come from this group.
For me, this was a particularly painful piece of writing in that it compares ‘badly’ to a non-fiction brochure. The only detail that might cause a reader to think it is something other is its use of past tense. (Then again it could be “Historical Brochure,” a new genre, I believe.)
What galls me, in particular, is Baldacci’s ordering of the information. Not only does the writing not compel in the ways described above, it is difficult to follow, as if he shook ten somewhat related declarative sentences in a jar and spilled them onto the page. And, for all his effort at dumping setting, it fails to deliver a clear picture. His one descriptive sentence includes “two staggered twelve-foot tall security fences . . “. I can see two, I can see twelve, but I can’t see what staggered might mean here. And does it matter so much as to be on the first page?
His experiment needed more consideration and the opening needed the loving voice of an editor. “Now, David . . . “
I vote No, but wonder if comparing a well-known author’s first page to a novice is really valid here. The author could have written “Redrum redrum redrum redrum…” for a page and a half and still sold tons of books. I doubt his editor would have spoken up either. Fans will give the author the benefit of a doubt and let many things slide just because they are fans.
I liked the first paragraph. The line “cradled in a green hand” had some symbolism for me because hands make fists as well and fists hold things tight. However, half way through the second paragraph, I began to wonder who this story was about. By the time the brochure and prison tourism was mentioned, I was done.
I just know that my eyes began to droop. And droop. And droop some more.
While I agree the writing is poor and pretty tedious, I can see why this would draw readers in.
Of course Baladacci’s name is itself a draw and most readers will be pre-engaged before they even read page one, but consider if this manuscript was submitted to a publisher under a pseudonym, would it get read?
I think most commenters here would say no, without the name attached it doesn’t follow the basic guidelines of what publishers are looking for—and those people, imo, would be wrong.
What this has is high concept. The name is ‘The Escape’, the first page describes the toughest prison in America. Do you know what the story is about? Do you know who it’s about? Of course you do. Baladacci has explicitly and expertly shoved the premise down your throat. It’s not a question of whether you think it’s well written, it’s a question of whether you want to see a guy break out of a jail that makes Alcatraz look like a seaside resort.
And any publisher who wants to sell high concept, macho nonsense (i.e. all of them) will check out more than the first page.
The reason most novice writers who take a similar approach to openings will get short shrift from the same publisher is because their story lacks that kind of immediate high stakes concept. Imagine if the book was called ‘The Choice’ and the first page was an equally verbose description of an actual campus college. Would you know what it was going to be about?
That’s not to say ‘The Choice’ couldn’t be a great story, but it doesn’t have that immediate impact that asks you ‘Are you in the mood for this?’ In the mood for what? You have no idea. Which is why The Choice would need a lot of work in the first page to convince the reader to keep reading.
The Escape, on the other hand, requires no such finessing. There’s no enigma, no coyness. You know what you’re being offered and you’re either in or your out.
regards,
mood
Although I certainly wouldnt deem to place all the blame at the feet of Kurt Vonnegut, you can see the influence reflected in the advice he gave.
“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.”