Flog a Pro: Would You Pay to Turn the First Page of This Bestseller?
By Ray Rhamey | July 18, 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 young adult fiction bestseller list for July 20, 2019. How strong is the opening—would this narrative, all on its own, hook an agent if it came in from an unpublished writer?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.
I shouldn’t have come to this party.
I’m not even sure I belong at this party. That’s not on some bougie shit, either. There are just some places where it’s not enough to be me. Either version of me. Big D’s spring break party is one of those places.
I squeeze through sweaty bodies and follow Kenya, her curls bouncing past her shoulders. A haze lingers over the room, smelling like weed, and music rattles the floor. Some rapper calls out for everybody to Nae-Nae, followed by a bunch of “Heys” as people launch into their own versions. Kenya holds up her cup and dances her way through the crowd. Between the headache from the loud-ass music and the nausea from the weed odor, I’ll be amazed if I cross the room without spilling my drink.
We break out the crowd. Big D’s house is packed wall-to-wall. I’ve always heard that everybody and their momma comes to his spring break parties—well, everybody except me—but damn, I didn’t know it would be this many people. Girls wear their hair colored, curled, laid, and slayed. Got me feeling basic as hell with my ponytail. Guys in their freshest kicks and sagging pants grind so close to girls they just about need condoms. My nana likes to say that spring brings love. Spring in Garden Heights doesn’t always bring love, but it promises babies in the winter. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of them are conceived the night of Big D’s party. He (snip)
You can turn the page and read more here.
This is The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas. Was this opening page compelling?
My vote: Yes.
This book received a strong 4.8 out of 5 stars on Amazon. Voice rules in this opening page. There’s not much for story questions other than why shouldn’t she have gone to that party. But this narrative plunged me into a world I am so-o-o-o far away from knowing that it was instantly fascinating—I wonder what my reaction would be if I were a young Black reader—or a young white reader, for that matter.
We’re immersed immediately into this character and that world, and I found myself wanting to ride along. The story that evolves is about the protagonist witnessing a white cop kill her friend and the consequences that follow, but you’d never know that by the first page. Is it necessary to start there? I suspect that if I were an editor on this work I’d look for a way to get that shooting on the first page. Because of the language, all this setup feels forgivable, but what if the language were the same, just as inviting, and that killing happened here? I think it would make for a more compelling start. Or even if it opened with the sound of gunfire at this party, which soon happens. But, happy as I am with this narrative voice and world, that doesn’t seem too important.
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]
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.
I remember starting this book and I was hooked before I reached the third paragraph. That voice. This first page makes me see the party, smell it, hear it – and I’ve never been to a party like that, yet somehow Thomas made me feel like I was in the middle of it. All on the first page.
I went to bed at 2am and I was furious that this “sleep” thing was necessary, because that meant I had to stop reading.
I’m. IN.
I’m so in I’m going to buy it right now. Seriously, the voice is fantastic.
I voted yes. Even though the beginning doesn’t start right with action, there’s something ominous about the first line that hints at terrible things to come. Then I was swept away from the uncomfortable feeling of the first line into the party, perfectly set up to feel the horror of what is coming. Personally I think it’s very skillful. :)
This was a cheat for me, since I recognized it early on.
I disagree that it doesn’t pose questions: the first sentence made me wonder why this person feels she doesn’t belong and what type of party it might be. The next makes me feel for her: it’s not “bougie”, yet she still feels out of place. Maybe that’s because I know why, so I shouldn’t comment more. But you’re right, the voice is powerful; the author clearly has command of her writing and her story.
Ray, you ask “Is it necessary to start there?” Absolutely. There is no other moment to start this story.
Starr Carter is a young black women torn between two worlds: the crime-heavy hood (Garden Heights) where she grew up and the mostly white prep school (Williamson) where she lives a different life with different presumptions and a white boyfriend.
The story will force on her a choice: one world or the other. In order for that choice to be difficult, we must understand why each world matters to her. The opening page knowingly and, I would argue, lovingly details the world of Garden Heights.
At the opening party, Starr connects with a crush from her younger days, Khalil, who is the boy who that night gets shot by a white cop, the #BlackLivesMatter moment that sets in motion the rest of the story and provides the highest possible stakes for Starr’s dilemma. That inciting incident would be just TV news to us if we didn’t first care, and we do care about Khalil and the warm, weed-infused world of Garden Heights because Starr cares.
That is what we must see, and that is why the novel positively had to open there. In workshops these days, I teach the technique of the “voice opening”–when on page one we are captured not by plot but by the voice of the narrator alone–and one of the elements that makes voice openings work is urgency; that is, something that the narrator knows that we urgently need to get, see or understand in order for the story to make sense.
BTW, I did know this novel from the opening line. I read it, of course. It is as important, compelling, heartbreaking and as honest and as fair as To Kill a Mockingbird. It’s a novel that will change you.
Thomas does not make Starr’s dilemma easy. Her characters are (mostly) not simple. Starr’s uncle is a cop. Her white boyfriend is not a racist. The novel works brilliantly both on the levels of plot and inner journey. It deserves every bit of its success. The movie version is pretty good too. I thank you for highlighting this novel today. Everyone should read it.
Don, I’d love to hear more about the “voice opening” one of these days. Thanks for commenting.
YES! The language alone–it’s a poetry of place, a voice that draws me to an experience that I know is far from my own and for a while I want to live in that place.
No. Powerful voice does not a story make, and I heard no story question here. The only hint of question is:
“There are just some places where it’s not enough to be me. Either version of me.”
And even that was not enough to pull me in. With the synopsis in Donald Maas’ comment, my interest was piqued. But that wasn’t evident in the first page.
YES. Voice always wins the day for me.
Weirdly, I recognized this page instantly and was sure it was from a book I’d read…until I saw the cover. I never actually read the book, but I had read the opening somewhere, so I suspect someone used it in some other context as an example of a great opening that hooks us in.
I said no because is it possible to overslang? Would I be thinking hair techniques as I enter the room? Not sure. That said – I didn’t read the book but I loved the movie. It was a very compelling story and I couldn’t stop watching. I found it very realistic, sad, scary and hopeful. Knowing that, I would read the book although I maybe would have rushed through the first part.
I voted no. The voice was overwrought, tried too hard. The set-up — teen fish out of water in a music-, sex-, and drug-drenched party — offered nothing compelling enough to keep me reading.
A no for me but mainly because I don’t enjoy YA and there’s no hint here that this is going to get a lot grittier. Now that I know what it’s about I’d be inclined to give it a second chance.
I did pay good money for this book! And it’s every bit as good as the opening, which I think is necessary because it shows the reader how torn Starr is between her two worlds, worlds that are about to collide.
Maybe I’m too old for this book!
I would have started here:
Big D’s house is packed wall-to-wall. I’ve always heard that everybody and their momma comes to his spring break parties—well, everybody except me—but damn, I didn’t know it would be this many people.
This gets you right into the setting and raises questions (why except her?). Starting with that inner musing lost me. Other than that, I was intrigued.