Flog a Pro: would you turn this bestselling author’s first page?
By Ray Rhamey | April 16, 2015 |
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?
Caveat: a strong first-person voice with the right content can raise powerful story questions and create page turns without doing all of the above. A recent submission worked wonderfully well and didn’t deal with five of the things in the checklist.
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This novel was number one on the New York Times trade paperback fiction bestseller list for April 12, 2015. How strong is the opening page—would this have hooked an agent if it came in from an unpublished writer?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 17 manuscript lines of Chapter 1.
It was all because of the Berlin Wall. If it weren’t for the Berlin Wall, Cecilia would never have found the letter, and then she wouldn’t be sitting here, at the kitchen table, willing herself not to rip it open.
The envelope was gray with a fine layer of dust. The words on the front were written in a scratchy blue ballpoint pen, the handwriting as familiar as her own. She turned it over. It was sealed with a yellowing piece of sticky tape. When was it written? It felt old, like it was written years ago, but there was no way of knowing for sure.
She wasn’t going to open it. It was absolutely clear that she should not open it. She was the most decisive person she knew, and she’d already decided not to open the letter, so there was nothing more to think about.
Although, honestly, if she did open it, what would be the big deal? Any woman would open it like a shot. She listed all her friends and what their responses would be if she were to ring them up right now and ask what they thought.
Miriam Oppenheimer: Yup. Open it.
Erica Edgecliff: Are you kidding, open it right this second.
Laura Marks: Yes, you should open it and then you should read it out loud to me.
Sarah Sacks: . . .
My vote and editorial notes after the fold.
Did you recognize Liane Moriarty and her The Husband’s Secret? Would this opening page be compelling if you picked it up to sample it in a bookstore?
My vote: yes
Perhaps Don Maass might call this an example of “bridging tension,” a story question raised that isn’t dealing with the main conflict of a story, but one that is sufficient to get us to turn the page. Well, it worked for me. I want to know what’s in that letter, so I turned the page. The voice was another factor—strong, clear, definitely a person and not a reporter or an author just laying out information.
The Amazon review had this to say about Liane Moriarty: “Liane Moriarty is probably doomed to be forever labeled a writer of “chick lit.” But despite its dopey name, her new novel, The Husband’s Secret, is better described as a comedy of manners and one with a serious undertone.”
One more thing—I download the first chapters for Flog a Pro as samples for my Kindle. As a result, I can (if compelled) read on. Here I skimmed ahead to learn what was in the letter—by chapter’s end I had yet to find out. That bridging tension was keeping me in its grip, though, because what had been revealed along the way only increased my interest in knowing what that letter had to say and, ultimately, its effect on this woman, her husband, and her family.
Let me add that, because of my insistence on a first page being compelling, I’m often accused of only responding with a page turn to balls-to-the-wall ACTION!!! Clearly, in this case (and many others), not so. This opening succeeded in creating a delicious “itch-that-has-to-be-scratched” tension in me.
Your thoughts?
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.
Yes. A great illustration of an opening disturbance, which can be as simple as this–an old, mysterious letter rippling the waters of the ordinary world. I would, however, cut the first paragraph. It’s not fatal, just a bit soggy for me.
Agreed, James. The first paragraph isn’t needed. Though I hadn’t noticed until you pointed it out. And I’m not sure I need the exact words her particular friends might say in the last bit before the page turn.
My vote was no.
Were I on vacation with oodles of free time to kill, it piqued my curiosity enough that I would read on.
But compelled – no. The strong first person voice struck me as a too “me-me-me”. And when the author takes this much time setting up a contrived tension, it leads me to believe that the story is not strong enough to stand carry the day.
I wasn’t compelled. An unopened letter is definitely a pull. And the comment about the handwriting being similar to the protagonists’ own nearly got me. But in the end, the protagonist got on my nerves. I agree with Judith here. She’s too whiney for me, especially this early in the morning. The reference to the Berlin Wall felt more like a device than a story question. I didn’t even want to know what Sarah Sacks had to say…
I voted no. I got impatient with her indecision and self-absorption. “She was the most decisive person she knew, and she’d already decided not to open the letter ….” Then why all the meandering and doubt and needing 4 (4!) of her friends’ opinions? The character reminded me of a sixteen year old. Compelling? No. Did I connect to the protagonist? No. Here’s a question for Ray. You mention backstory in your list above. Do you consider the opening lines about the Berlin Wall backstory?
An unopened letter is intriguing, but the protagonist goes on too long about it. Just how many friends would she ask about the letter? By this time, I lost interest in the letter and the rerference to the Berlin Wall. I would not read past this first page.
Adelaide
I voted No.
I found the reference to the Berlin Wall intriguing, so I was bored and disappointed when the main focus shifted to the letter instead. Also, I realise that lack of information about the origin and content of the letter is meant to puzzle and intrigue the readers, but for me it was just annoying and forced.
Did not need even one paragraph to discard this backstory all about her decisive indecisve self. Syntax sloppy. Sorry, I read so much that I don’t bother with books like this. Ann
I would have turned over the page and read on for a while before deciding to buy. But, if I had seen the cover first I might have been put off- a bit pink. The Amazon review suggests that it isn’t chick lit and that would encourage me to read on.
Where’s the “I’m not sure” button? (Hey, perhaps I’m the most indecisive person I know!).
I found the Berlin Wall “mystery” intriguing, as well as the unopened letter, and the voice was fine. A “decisive person” who then goes through a list of her friends who all sound a lot more decisive made me think we have a woman who doesn’t actually know herself on our hands. Interestingly, most of the women commenting above sound irritated with our heroine!
I would read on, although I always have problems with the “compelled” rubric. Compelled I really wasn’t–but interested enough to give it some more minutes of my time, yes.
I receive junk mail solicitations daily, including a creative one yesterday which showed the one-line return address: “Department of Notification.”
As such, a simple decision to open a letter or not, failed to compel me to read on. Perhaps if more about the letter were made known, for example an intriguing postmark to justify the character’s indecision to open it, maybe a weak yes, but as written with seemingly nothing at stake, definitely not.
The first paragraph is what hooked me.
I voted NO WAY. Chick-lit, is a fair verdict. I’m sure there are plenty of Miriams, Eicas, Lauras, and Sarahs who will lap it up.
I see mostly “No” votes are weighing in here. :-) I tend to agree with Ray, though, about the “bridging tension.” The fact that the Amazon review calls it a comedy of manners (and I just finished reading Austen) makes me intrigued, too.
Yes, there were parts of page one that under the Flog a Pro microscope seemed a little clunky: the wording of the first paragraph didn’t thrill me, and yet I was glad we had the bit about the Berlin Wall–just a whiff of backstory. And while the jury’s out a little on how I feel about the main character’s voice, I notice right away that it’s distinct…and different from each of the friends she hears in her head. My impression from page is that this book would be a *quick* read: it keeps the reader moving through the story. And while I love a good, slow savor of a read sometimes–okay, often–there is something to be said for a story that (might?) move quickly. This one seems to promise that it will zip along (without what Ray calls balls-to-the-wall action).
Just open the %$&# letter!!!!
No, this was not compelling enough for me to want to read on. Unless the description on the back is interesting enough and gives me a clue what the story is about.
The only thing I know about the POV character is that she’s called Cecilia, that she’s sittting down with an old-looking letter and that she rambles a lot and sounds immature. Oh, and there’s something with the Berlin wall. To me it seems a very bland introduction.
Maybe I’m spoiled because I’ve just started reading American Gods by Neil Gaiman and he made me care about the main character with the (intriguing) first page.
I’m curious but not compelled. It’s obvious she’s going to open it but I’m not clear on why it would be an infraction and what the consequences will be if she’s caught. A bit more setup would raise my tolerance for the length of internal debate, especially if she’s going to run the decision through her entire social network. ;)
Don’t know if I can be objective, since I recognized it right away and loved the book. However, when I was reading the book, I do remember having the thought that the Berlin Wall reference seemed odd, though it does come into play later in the story. However, starting with the letter, though it raises curiosity, doesn’t seem quite as unique as the Berlin Wall mention.
I voted yes, and can I just sidetrack to say I hate the term chick lit?
Anyway. Onward.
None of the things others have pointed out (references to the Berlin Wall, etc.) bugged me. To me, the MC’s personality, with the internal argument after making such a bold statement, I found very normal and likeable. Who hasn’t said “I’m this way or that way,” and then done something out of character because of strange or unusual circumstances? That’s what I got out of it. The familiarity of the writing and all the other little tidbits (old, dusty, when was it written?) had something to do with this new found indecisiveness of hers. And, I was more amused than annoyed by her listing out her friends, which I also saw as a way to start to intro them.
I found her voice really annoying, so no. I didn’t mind that she wasn’t decisive; what bothered me was that her reasons for opening or not opening the letter felt trite.
There was also no grounding in time or place, which made the character seem self-centered.
Reading all these comments encourages my own writing because it shows me that ‘you can’t please everyone’. I’ve read all of Moriarty’s books and to me, the are not only compelling page turners, but also great character studies, with unique voices. I agree with Ray on this one (I almost always agree with him!), but l’ve got to admit that I don’t remember the significance of the ‘Berlin Wall’ reference in the first paragraph, so perhaps it’s NOT needed.
I would have slammed the book closed at the ball point pen. It appeared the note may have been written at the end of WWII. There were NO ball point pens then. And so the author’s research didn’t uncover that. Of course, maybe the note was written later, say in the late 1950s when they first came into existence, but I still would have assumed the note was written at the end of WWII without reading further.
Interesting. I’m not sure why you assume it’s a WWII book. The Berlin wall stood for decades.
No. Almost every sentence is passive. The Berlin Wall was actually the only thing that caught my attention, but seemed like an empty hook. The indecision was the only hint of personality, and that was repetitious and therefore boring. The there is nothing in this opening that stirs any emotions in me.
I wavered at the first paragraph, but was curious about what was in the letter. I thought my answer would be “yes” until I got to the listing of friends, at which point it decisively turned to “no”. The list seemed too labored and artificial to me.
And I agree with Melanie about the cover, not because it’s pink but because it’s too busy, too fractured. It says to me that this book is going to be a jumbled mess.
I wasn’t compelled to finish the 17 lines (although I did), let alone turn the page. The writing is unsophisticated, the voice simplistic, there’s not enough of the character to engage me.
This excerpt feels like the beginning of a young adult novel.
My vote is no.
No vote here. Berlin Wall? Scotch tape and ball point open? Confusing and not relative at this point. She’s too indecisive about opening, first stating no, then thinking of others opinions. Nothing compells me to turn the page. Not her friends, setting, no action, no dialogue, nothing.