Flog a Pro: would you pay to turn the first page of this bestseller?
By Ray Rhamey | May 16, 2019 |
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. In a sense, time is money for a literary agent working her way through a raft of submissions, and she is spending that resource whenever she turns a 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 paperback trade fiction bestseller list for May 19, 2019. How strong is the prologue—would this narrative, all on its own, hook an agent if it came in from an unpublished writer? Following are what would be the first 17 manuscript lines of the first chapter.
Who the hell is this timid creature standing in my hallway? I’m completely bemused. Have I seen her before? An image from a forgotten dream develops like a Polaroid in my memory, an angel in blue hovering at my bedside. But that was days ago. Could it have been her? And now she’s here, rooted to the hallway floor, her impish face pale, her eyes downcast. Her knuckles grow whiter as she clasps the broom handle tighter and tighter, as if it’s anchoring her to the Earth. The headscarf conceals her hair, and an oversize, old-fashioned nylon housecoat swamps her small frame. She looks totally out of place.
“Who are you?” I ask again, but in a softer tone, not wanting to alarm her. Wide eyes, the color of a fine espresso and framed by the longest lashes I’ve ever seen, look up at me, then back at the floor.
Shit!
One peek from her dark, fathomless eyes and I’m…unsettled. She’s at least a head shorter than me, perhaps five feet five to my six feet two. Her features are delicate: high cheekbones, an upturned nose, clear fair skin, and pale lips.
It’s obvious that she’s cleaning. But why her? Why here? Has she replaced my old daily? “Where’s Krystyna?” I ask, growing a little frustrated at her silence. Perhaps she’s Krystyna’s daughter—or granddaughter.
You can turn the page and read more here.
This is The Mister, a romance novel by E. L. James, author of Fifty Shades of Grey. Was this opening page compelling?
My vote: No.
This book received 3.4 out of 5 stars on Amazon. In a way, being male, perhaps I’m not the intended consumer of this purple prose. On the other hand, I have read and enjoyed romance novels. What do we have here for a story question? Who is the woman. What do we have for stakes? Nada. Question: if a dream is forgotten, how can it develop in his mind like a Polaroid? For me, the prose is over the top. Just for fun, here’s a sample from the next page:
Her eyes meet mine, and her tongue darts out, and nervously she licks her upper lip. My whole body tightens in a hot, heavy rush as desire hits me like a demolition ball.
Being male, I can testify that I’ve never had a reaction like that to my first look at a woman. Your thoughts?
You’re invited to a flogging—your own You see here the insights fresh eyes bring to the performance of bestseller first pages, so why not do the same with the opening of your WIP? Submit your prologue/first chapter to my blog, Flogging the Quill, and I’ll give you my thoughts and even a little line editing if I see a need. And the readers of FtQ are good at offering constructive notes, too. Hope to see you there.
To submit, email your first chapter or prologue (or both) as an attachment to me, and let me know if it’s okay to use your first page and to post the complete chapter.
[coffee]
I voted yes because I was intrigued by the mystery (mysteries do that to me) and was interested to see that my vote brought the total to an even 50/50 split. Then the demolition ball, in the form of the over-the-top quote from the next page, hit me in my middle. I would never read that book.
I voted yes to turn, but was already skimming by the end of the excerpt. I just wanted to know who the person was and then would have put the book back on the shelf if I was browsing in a book store or library. The characters annoyed me and the fact I knew nothing about the POV character (name, gender, nothing) was irritating.
Probably the most flawed opening page Ray has ever shown us. He speaks for the first time to ask her something “again”? As pointed out, zero stakes, no sense of the situation. I was appalled but not surprised to see the second page quote was all about the sex. Where else could this go? Dreadful. I’ve never read nor seen 50 Shades, and now I’m even less likely to open it.
Being female, I can tell you that being male has nothing to do with why you don’t like this, Ray. It’s just bad writing.
What Therese said.
I do love the flogging, Ray! Always makes the agent rejections easier to take when I see what does get published sometimes. But E.L. James is an awfully easy target – there was nothing sexy about this. More like spooky.
For me, it’s the opposite. Seeing bad books published makes the rejections harder to accept, because those agents seem to be telling me this drivel is worthy but my drivel isn’t good enough!
I’d say creepy.
Eh, it wasn’t so bad, I did wonder who this character is, so I might turn the page to see where it was going. I found the tone disjointed; I thought it sounded antiquated so I had another era in mind, despite the mention of a Polaroid. But (and this comes from someone who swears like a sailor) the “shit!” put me off. Especially since it comes in reaction to a person looking at him? That’s a pretty visceral response to a glance. Though I liked the Polaroid imagery linked to a dream(?), the “days ago” lost me too. Polaroids develop in seconds. More incongruity made the passage hard to follow. So I guess my issue is, where are we and when?
Overwritten for sure. I was actually cringing but was slightly intrigued because I like mysteries. I didn’t like the tone of the voice here at all. Character came off arrogant and distant. And with the character using the F-word three times in the opening on Amazon Look Inside feature, that’s a turn-off for me. I don’t mind it generally if it’s not overused but this would make me close the book because there ‘s likely lots more of that to come.
Isn’t this kind of overdone writing what they call self-conscious writing?
I voted No
If I were an agent I would be put off by the mention of Polaroid because only readers over a certain age would even know what that means.
“Shit” is too strong for feeling “Unsettled”, surely.
And all the poor timid little woman stereotypes are just tiresome.
Your response was interesting, Ray, because when I read that passage I thought, “This is probably the sort of thing that appeals to men!” I’m relieved that’s not the case.
Others here say they were intrigued by the mystery, but to me there was no mystery. Only confusion. “Mystery” means I understand what’s going on, but there are unanswered questions that make me curious. Confusion means the writing is a disorienting cloud that makes me angry.
As I read this, my lip quivered, trembling in turgid throbbing anticipation of the pulsating literary experience that was about to spew uncontrollably onto the page, completely unbridled in its tempestuousness.
And then I voted no.
Wow, Keith! I think you’ve found your genre home. Congratulations!
I honestly thought the pov character was an elderly woman with memory problems. The observations of clothing and age (grandchild) of the girl holding the broom made me think this was a mystery about a woman who lost moments of time. Possibly she might even be involved in a murder or crime.
Then you said it was a man. Oh boy. I did not get male thoughts from this snippet. Even the “shit” could mean she was upset about not remembering.
And then you posted the next line. Ewwwww. I would put the book down immediately. Now, if I’d read the back blurb, I might have been prepared for that and not even bothered to read it at all.
Thanks for these intriguing peeks into first pages. My vote is NO.
The opener was overdone, sure, but that second page line is alarming. Clearly, this character is a predator. Getting that turned on by someone shy/timid/afraid? I expect the rest of the book will be their repeated attempts to woo her with increasing force. Way to promote rape culture, James.
She lost me at bemused…
Based on the first page, I almost voted yes. Despite the clunky writing, the story promised a certain amount of intrigue. Then I read the rest. Glad I voted no. (Thirty cents will buy a day’s worth of food for the cat.)
The no for me was immediate. I had no reason to even wonder why the cleaning lady was getting so much disjointed attention from the POV character. The POV character was totally anonymous. No stakes, no interest. And the crude language, liberally used on the next page, turned me clear off.
Is leering your thing? Is that a turn on? For most on WU, clearly not.
For those who saved thirty cents, here’s happy news: the leering gets worse as Chapter One progresses. “Look at me, please.” “I’m aroused once more.” “She’s fucking exquisite.” Hey, just try those lines, guys, in your next manuscript. Your beta readers will come to your home and slap your face.
E. L. James, though, gets #1 on the trade paper list. Huh? Well, obviously James’s appeal doesn’t reside in her narrator, so what *is* the appeal? From speaking with James fans, I am pretty sure the appeal lies in the vulnerable maid. Readers aren’t identifying with him, but rather with her.
There must be something, right? It isn’t the slobbering narration, that’s for sure. Nor the prose. Whatever it is, it’s there. As I’m typing this 21.36% of even WU folks voted yes. Think about that, and think about #1 on the trade paper list before dismissing this one out of hand.
Masterpiece. Maybe not. Best seller? Well, yes. Interesting.
Are those readers there for the maid, or for the titillation?
And, since this is a test of the drawing power of the first page, as I write this, 79.05% will never get to the steamy story of the maid.
Trade paper, you say? Not mass market paper? Why why why? Because of the popularity of Fifty Shades? Only that and nothing more?
I realize it’s already tomorrow on the WU schedule but will comment anyway to register my surprise.
I voted yes out of curiosity thinking she was some kind of faerie creature. The description of her is childlike so it’s disturbing when it becomes sexual. The writing is bad.
I, too, voted yes because my mind was creating a very different story out of the nebulous (OK, almost totally lacking) details. I’ve been immersed in fantasy and fairy tales, so the idea of a tiny pooka-like helper emerging from something glimpsed in a dream or (my first thought) envisioned in a sick-bed delirium was enough to turn a page at least. I wouldn’t have bought the whole book, however. The writing wasn’t good enough to want to do more than get a glimpse of the idea being developed.
Not a whit interested after the first paragraph on the next page.
Okay, I voted yes because I mis-read the opening lines (bemused MC wakes and finds an imp with a broom rooted to the floor) for an Urban fantasy.
I mean, why else would someone have that kind of reaction to someone sweeping the hallway? I thought he was describing a fairy. . . I guess I am the bemused one.
In my defense, I am reading a great Harry Dresden novel right now.
=)
I would likely turn the page and spend another thirty cents, but I doubt that I’d buy it.