Flog a Pro: would you pay to turn the first page of this bestseller?
By Ray Rhamey | May 19, 2016 |
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.
Here’s the question:
Would you pay good money to read the rest of the chapter? With 50 chapters in a book that costs $15, each chapter would be “worth” 30 cents.
So, before you read the excerpt, take 30 cents from your pocket or purse. When you’re done, decide what to do with those three dimes or the quarter and a nickel. It’s not much, but think of paying 30 cents for the rest of the chapter every time you sample a book’s first page.
Please judge by storytelling quality, not by genre or content—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.
This novel was number one on the New York Times hardcover fiction bestseller list for May 13, 2016. How strong is the opening page—would this narrative, all on its own, have hooked an agent if it came in from an unpublished writer? Following are what would be the first 17 manuscript lines of the prologue.
Alison Muller wasn’t classically beautiful, but she was striking, with swinging blonde hair and peekaboo bangs brushing the frames of her wraparound shades. Her black leather coat flared above the knees of her skinny jeans, and her purposeful stride was punctuated by the staccato clacking of her high-heeled boots.
That afternoon, as she cut through the golden-hued lobby of San Francisco’s Four Seasons Hotel, Ali checked out every man, woman, and child crossing the floor, on the queue at reception, slouched in chairs in front of the fireplace. She noted and labeled the tourists and businesspeople, deflecting the stares of the men who couldn’t look away, while on the phone with her husband and their younger daughter, Mitzi.
“I didn’t actually forget, Mitz,” Ali said to her five-year-old. “More like I lost track.”
“You did forget,” her daughter insisted.
“Not completely. I thought your big day was tomorrow.”
“Everyone wanted to know where you were,” her daughter complained.
“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart,” Ali said.
“When? With what?”
Ali’s thoughts ran ahead to the man waiting for her in a room on the fourteenth floor.
“Let me speak to Daddy,” Ali said.
My vote and notes after the fold.
This is 15th Affair by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro. The subtitle included “Women’s Murder Club Novel.” Was this opening page compelling to you?
My vote: no. A flogging follows.
Acknowledging that all reading reactions are subjective, this opening narrative irked me several ways. For me, it does a number of things that I advise my editing clients not to do, and fails to do the key thing that I do recommend: immerse the reader in the character’s story. As Donald Maass has noted, the sooner readers connect with a character the better, and on the first page is best.
But here we’re given an outside observer’s picture of Alison in a quick info dump of her looks, clothes, and a judgement call about the effect of it all, none of which comes from inside the character. I realize that this is a legitimate opening, but for me it fails to sink me into the character. I’m still outside, merely observing rather than feeling, when the paragraph ends.
There’s more, which I’ve included in the notes that follow.
It does manage to raise a story question about why she is meeting a man, and the title would give us a reason why, but I’d prefer to get it from the story. Maybe a reference to her desire or another aspect of her emotions about the meeting would involve us more with the character.
Your thoughts? Notes:
Alison Muller wasn’t classically beautiful, but she was striking, with swinging blonde hair and peekaboo bangs brushing the frames of her wraparound shades. Her black leather coat flared above the knees of her skinny jeans, and her purposeful stride was punctuated by the staccato clacking of her high-heeled boots. This is all from outside the character. Nothing to connect with or care about here. However, I’m male, and this might appeal to women more than it did to me.
That afternoon, as she cut through the golden-hued lobby of San Francisco’s Four Seasons Hotel, Ali checked out every man, woman, and child crossing the floor, on the queue at reception, slouched in chairs in front of the fireplace. She noted and labeled the tourists and businesspeople, deflecting the stares of the men who couldn’t look away, while on the phone with her husband and their younger daughter, Mitzi. What’s the motivation for all this intensive inspection? Why is she doing it? If there’s a story/character reason why, how about including that? Also, Mitzi is referred to as “younger” daughter. If there is more than one daughter, as this implies, why isn’t she the “youngest” daughter?
“I didn’t actually forget, Mitz,” Ali said to her five-year-old. “More like I lost track.”
“You did forget,” her daughter insisted. I suspect my fellow WU colleague and his partner, Renni Browne of Self-Editing for Fiction Writers would agree with me that this is an instance of explaining dialogue. It’s a no-no.
“Not completely. I thought your big day was tomorrow.”
“Everyone wanted to know where you were,” her daughter complained. More explanation of dialogue. Show us with a characterization of her voice that suggests a complaining tone, and perhaps Alison’s reaction to that. For example, Mitzi could whine, or sob, or somehow communicate her feelings.
“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart,” Ali said.
“When? With what?” What’s her emotion here? Cheerful? Happy? Still pissed?
Ali’s thoughts ran ahead to the man waiting for her in a room on the fourteenth floor.
“Let me speak to Daddy,” Ali said.
Turn the page for free by utilizing Amazon’s “Look inside” feature, and I recommend doing that if you have the time and interest. 15th Affair is here.
Personal note: today is my birthday. While I have accumulated a lot of them, I prefer continuing to do so over the alternative.
Stop by my Monday “Flog a BookBubber” feature Flogging the Quill. BookBub is a website that offers free or very low cost ebooks. It is heavily used by self-publishers, though established authors are sometimes there.
We often see the meme on the Internet that self-published authors should have had editing done before they published. So the new Flog a BookBubber posts take a look at opening pages to see if that’s true. You can vote on turning the page and then on whether or not they should have sought an editor. Visit on Mondays and take a look.
[coffee]
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.
I agree with your critique. The first para seems unhelpful. The second para about watching people in the foyer seemed pointless, too. BUT I accepted the presentation as delivered by a third party narrator and the piece raised enough questions to grab my attention. Not least was my main question: Who is narrating? In reading on I would be hoping for clarity on this point, and if it looked like I wasn’t going to get it, I would stop reading.
Happy Birthday!
I have to say that these opening lines aren’t selling me on that James Patterson writing class I keep seeing advertised.
Ray, I have to disagree big-time with you here. And it’s not because I like the character: I’m braced for an unsympathetic narrator and I think that was actually set up well.
I’ll bet the house money (which admittedly is all pennies) that this is a high-price escort going to meet a john. That explains everything you’re complaining about and actually heightens the tension. Of course we look at her appearance, that’s all she wants folks to see (sunglasses, very key). Of course she checks out everyone, she’s analytical and businesslike about potential clients, problems and obstacles.
And most important, she’s marvelously juggling her 5 year-old on the phone (not very well, she’s unsympathetic). Imagine, she asks to speak to her husband as an escape! While on her way up to meet the john. Does even he know what she does?
Honestly, this is marvelous- now, it could burn out like a sparkler in a few more pages if I don’t get some signal where to put my sympathies (maybe she needs the money; more likely she’s going to find the john is already dead). So I’ll agree it’s non-standard and takes a risk. But I expected much worse! These bestselling authors recently are the ones who’ve been getting away with murder, on the first page. This one, I actually like.
I’ll say no. Beginning with a description of the character does nothing for me. While the author begins with action (after the description), there’s nothing special about it. Nothing to draw me in. And, to be honest, the description itself was a bit canned.
I love your breakdown in blue, Ray. The opening read in a very superficial way, certainly cliche with swinging hair and clacking high-heeled boots. This sentence was over written and clunky: ‘ She noted and labeled the tourists and businesspeople, deflecting the stares of the men who couldn’t look away, while on the phone with her husband and their younger daughter, Mitzi.’ I had to read it twice to get what was going on. I probably would have turned the page to read on but if the rest of it held the same banal course, this would be a book I’d put down.
Happy Birthday and thanks for your analysis, Ray. I actually didn’t like the first two paragraphs–too descriptive for my taste for a beginning. But, I would keep reading just because I was wondering who she was meeting that was more important than her 5 year old daughter. But your comments about it not being a very close POV are well taken.
I don’t know how many Patterson books/collaborations you’ve used in these posts, but it strikes me that I’ve voted no on all of them, and yet, he’s one of the consistently top-selling authors in the country. Are we all just writing snobs? Or do a lot of people out there settle for mediocre storytelling?
A lot of people out there settle for mediocre storytelling.
I’m normally right there with you Ray but have to agree with Will Hahn about the effectiveness of the opening. I think Alison is a hired killer, though it may involve sex, hence the reason for her checking out everyone and simultaneously disguising her own identity. I came away feeling this woman had ice water in her veins and could deal with things going wrong, whether it be handling her daughter or the man waiting for her upstairs. In this case, a great deal is revealed by not allowing us inside. Alison (and the narrator) is face-palming the reader. For me, that establishes enough mystery to keep me reading. I’m not a Patterson fan, but I thought this was well done.
In the end I voted no but I won’t say I wasn’t curious about what was really going on. But the stereotypical female description that started the story (just as bad as every romantic heroine’s “emerald green eyes”) was enough to overpower my curiosity about the story.
In fairness though, I am vehemently opposed to the sky high pricing of e-books from traditional publishers. Cliched female description or not, I wouldn’t pay $15 for a novel. His or anybody else’s.
Happy Birthday, Ray!
This is a classic, ice cold, villain POV thriller opening. It’s slick, let’s give it that. It’s also textbook. Nothing to surprise us here.
Erin asked, why does Patterson sell so well? He keeps us turning pages, his plotting is solid, and his protagonists, when we meet them, are quietly heroic.
Patterson writes main stream entertainment, like Starbucks brews mainstream coffee, Ford makes mainstream cars, and Nabisco makes market-tested snacks. Nothing more, nothing less.
Sparks, Grisham and King are slick too, yet write from a personal place. When I read them, commercial as they may be, I feel I’m reading novelists at work. When I read Patterson I admire the craft and turn the pages, but I’m consuming a product.
That said, mainstream is mainstream. Some people want Starbucks, Ford and Tricuits. If you want Stumptown, an Alfa or almond biscotti, go elsewhere. Usually I do but, hey, I use the Starbucks app and rip through a Patterson, sometimes, just sayin’, ya know?
Good explanation, Don.
He doesn’t keep me turning pages.
And, of course, if an unpublished author was submitting this stuff, agents would turn it down in a thrice.
David, no question Patterson’s not to your taste, or many people’s, not always mine either, but I do have to disagree about how his stuff would look if it turned up in slush from an unpublished author.
There’s more craft and appeal in his books than might at first appear. For instance, he creates protagonists to “cheer for”, as used to be said, like Alex Cross.
Not that agents like moi don’t fail to spot great stuff sometimes, I can tell you, but it’s more often the literary gem that is the wallflower than the shamelessly commercial stuff, at least in my observation.
When I read the opener, the first few words of Gone with the Wind sprang to mind. How could they not?
But hey: a younger daughter is the younger of two daughters. A youngest daughter is the youngest of three or more daughters. All irrelevant to our discussion, of course. The adjective could have been left out with no damage to the sentence, but even that would not have made this passage compelling.
No, and the reason I wouldn’t turn the page is because, as Anna mentioned above, it reminded me too much of GWTW. To wit:
“Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were. In her face were too sharply blended the delicate features of her mother, a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of her florid Irish father. But it was an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw. Her eyes were pale green without a touch of hazel, starred with bristly black lashes and slightly tilted at the ends. Above them, her thick black brows slanted upward, cutting a startling oblique line in her magnolia-white skin — that skin so prized by Southern women and so carefully guarded with bonnets, veils and mittens against hot Georgia suns.”
Yes! Opening with the “not beautiful” description has been done, and much better, already.
You nailed it with your critique–which is a marvelous thing to do on a birthday. Happy birthday to you.
Happy Birthday, Ray!
Did anyone else feel that the five-year-old child read more like a young adolescent?
I thought the same, T. Jo’s five-y/o delights in words like “snot.” :)
agreed
Yup.
Happy Birthday Ray! I always learn so much from your flogging exercises. Thank you.
I wouldn’t get beyond the first line of this book. The description says she is not a classical beauty but striking and then describes clothing and hair. Do her hair and clothing make her striking? What does the author think is classically beautiful? A brunette?
Happy Birthday Ray. I look forward to your article every week. Sometimes I think ‘Eeek’ to a correction when I would have written the same way.
Enjoy your day!
K Daché
Ray, happy birthday!
I’m with Paula on my “no,” because it felt overwritten and rife with clichés. As an adjective-stacker myself, I know well the dreary feeling of having to climb over them to find a story.
Hear, hear! It read like writing.
“It read like writing.”
Bingo.
Oh, and happy birthday, Ray!
Happy birthday, Ray!
Don was right about the slick opening and classic villain POV but I guess I wasn’t in the mood for that this morning. The opening paragraph had me rolling my eyes with the thick descriptions and I wasn’t thrilled once the dialogue started, either. No questions popped up, just a study of the work, which means if I was seeing the work instead of feeling the work — instead of becoming engrossed in the story, asking questions, wanting more — then it didn’t grab me the way I want a story to grab me. And I agree with Tom about the modifiers. I was wading through them trying to find the story.
Oh, but I did want to add that from the author’s use of “younger,” I understood Ali to have only two daughters (she could still have more children if the rest were boys), which would make Mitzi the younger of the two. You wouldn’t use “youngest” when you’re only writing about two people.
You are so smart. (Especially when you imply that I’m smart too.)
Aww…thanks, but between the two of us, you are the smartest. :D
Okay, I’ll give ’em the “younger” part. But that’s all. Thanks, Mike.
The rest of your critique was spot-on, though.
You know, Don brought up a good point, that this was textbook. And it is. It brought to mind some of the classics I love with the “thick descriptions,” as I called them. But, for whatever reason, I didn’t take to these particular descriptions. After reading “peekaboo bangs,” “wraparound shades,” “purposeful stride,” and “golden-hued lobby,” I was tasting tacos — and it’s been weeks since I’ve had tacos.
But as I thought about how “textbook” it was, I began thinking of all the Patterson “&” books (in this case, Patterson & Maxine Paetro) that have been filling the shelves and also about the classes Patterson has been teaching. To me, yeah, this satisfied the genre’s typical opening style, but it read like a new writer following a format. “Do A, then B, add some C here…” and not the experienced writer Patterson is. I seriously wondered if this wasn’t mainly the work of one of Patterson’s students with his name attached. “I’m James Patterson, and I approve this book.”
I think he committed every info dump in the book. Literally, I think I read a how-to writing book that said the very information he presented should never be presented that way! Also, the dialogue totally lost me. Insipid. Not in the least interesting. And that is why I have a problem with the discrimination against authors who self publish. Hopefully they are learning to be a little more careful these days. I know I try.
I did vote yes–it was a “barely,” which I seem to often feel with these samples–mostly because of the story question it posed just in time. I filed some of my other criticisms under the Not My Genre/Not My Taste category. That said, I agree with your flogging, Ray. There could have been more, here.
And I appreciate Don’s comment: of course it’s a thriller villain POV. (Smacks forehead here) Might have known that for sure on page 2–and so by definition it’s going to be more external. Style and genre, again.
Incidentally, I wound up reading Unlucky 13, one of the earlier Paetro/Pattersons. Hadn’t read Patterson before. It was definitely a page-turner, and (by my standards) easy reading. It lacked engagement for me, real connection or investment in the characters…but it was more like watching an hour-long TV procedural. I didn’t mind the hour(s), and because I was less engaged I found it interesting to analyze as a writer. Sometimes it’s as valuable to know what I wouldn’t want to emulate in my own story. ;-)
An opening sentence that begins with a description of a woman with swinging blonde hair? I think your voting choices should have an ‘are you kidding me’ button. Peeky boo bangs? Gag.
I voted no. It may be slick but it’s formula slick which equals tacky. Tacky is not interesting. Books like this are the wily mainstay of publishing businesses that profit from taking advantage of a trend. Just every day legitimate business. It reminds me of the movie moguls who shout ‘bring me something new but the same’.
There’s no point in arguing numbers. The public votes yes to formula. The public rules. The greater public is addicted to junk food and TV serials and predictable thrillers with some low vicarious infatuation with gratuitous violence ( an undeniably sad commentary on humanity but off topic, here).
Stories like this have clearly earned their place on the greater menu. I crave pizza as much as the rest of the population. Pizza tastes amazing. But when it comes to reading for a week, I draw the line at books that taste of only paper and ink.
Great storytellers are word gourmets. We don’t honor them enough. But it’s the public who voted formula writers into some artificial bestsellers winning circle. (and now, apparently, formula writers with an assistant). But like it or not, the public is us.
How embarrassing if tacky writing of this sort represented earthlings’ literary capabilities to a visiting race of intelligent extra-terrestrials.
Veronica, I enjoyed your analysis and comments.
Ray, your post produced such thought-provoking comments all day long!
I voted no. It sounds amateurish to me. My first thought was that it was written by one of his students. I am an unpublished newbie and dare say I could do better. I can’t believe it is a Patterson. He has really gone downhill. I wouldn’t pay $5.00 for this, much less $15.00!
Hey, Ray:
I have nothing meaningful to add except one more HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
Gag is right….the woman’s description sounds Harlequin 1970. Some folks made comments about the woman being ice-cold, etc, and they could be right. However, this did not hook me in the least. I really didn’t care what came next. There are too many good books out that to read, and for me, this fell quite short.
I hope you had a lovely day.
How original to start with a description of a “striking” woman with swinging blonde hair that men can’t stop looking at. Definitely not my cup of tea and nothing after this description made me change my mind. I got the sense this story would be as superficial as its beginning.
Fabulous response, Veronica. “Great storytellers are word gourmets.” YES! YES! YES!