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First Page Critiques
What a great idea! 'E.A. Walker' is working on 'Hansie and Gretchen', a next in series to Red and the Wolf. It's a retelling of the Grimms' 'Hansel and Gretel'. First page of first draft follows. (I will offer critique of someone else's down the line, since I'm getting in first.)Mama’s lips were set in a firm line as she pushed a tray of gingerbread biscuits into the oven and closed the door. Twelve year-old Gretchen knew why.
The Mueller family had been invited for tea that afternoon after church. There they all sat in the front room in their Sunday best. Gretchen wore a cornflower-blue smocked dress with a white pinafore, and a simple linen bonnet. It was winter, and a cosy fire glowed in the hearth. Mama had brought a tea tray through with her fine china, and then bustled back to the pantry to fetch the biscuits and the wonderful chocolate cake she had baked specially. Then, there had been a silence, which went on for too long. Herr Mueller had tried to fill the space with small talk, while Gretchen’s fat little brother Hansie had begun to fidget.
“Sit still!” she had whispered to him - but it had made no difference. In a minute he had muttered an excuse and rushed from the room.
She’d apologised with a curtsy and gone to see what was delaying Mama. In the pantry, she’d found Mama staring into the empty cake tin, in her hand the biscuit box which held nothing but crumbs.
“Mama? - Oh no!” she’d exclaimed, “Not again!”
“What am I going to do with him,” Mama had asked herself. “Whatever am I going to do?”
“Pancakes!” Gretchen had burst out, on a thought from heaven.
“Of course,” Mama had said, “they will be just a few minutes to make. Liebling, run and fetch me a few lemons from the cellar.”
The afternoon tea had been saved, just barely. Frau Mueller had raised an eyebrow at pancakes, but that was all. In Gretchen’s opinion cinnamon sugar and lemon juice was an unbeatable combination, and the Mueller’s appetite for these traditional treats only confirmed that she was right.
Now, Mama was baking to replace what Hansie had eaten. An entire chocolate cake, and three dozen gingerbread biscuits; within twenty-four hours of their creation, and this in addition to their regular meals! No wonder Hansie was as fat as a blond-haired porker. Even his cheeks were round and pink, his sharp little blue eyes half-buried in his face.
Mod
What fun! A fairy tale reimagined. You've done a great job capturing the fairy tale voice and tone. Characterization of Gretchen, Hansie, and Mama is strong because you've used both their thoughts and actions to define them.
I had a bit of confusion in the following places:
Who's who: I wasn’t sure whether Gretchen was a Mueller, or whether the Muellers were another family, which led to more confusion about whose house we're in. This is easily fixed by either adding Gretchen's last name on first mention, or adding a tag like, "Gretchen's neighbors, the Mueller family…"
Why Mr. Mueller made small talk: Isn't that more a function of the host than the guest? I would have expected Gretchen's dad (who never appears) to do that. Who exactly is in the front room? I would consider that at least as important as what Gretchen is wearing.
The timeline: The opening paragraph led me to believe that Mama was baking the replacement tea goodies so they could be served to the Muellers. I stumbled when pancakes were suggested. Didn't Mama just put gingerbread in the oven? And then, when I figured out what went before was essentially a flashback, why is Mama making new gingerbread when tea is over? I would have expected her to be facing down Hansie instead now that the guests have gone.
There tends to be a stylist difference where UK English users slip in a lot of helper verbs and no one bats an eye, whereas American English users have screaming hysterics about it. In this case, the helper verb is 'had'. There are 17 instances in just 395 words, not counting the contraction instances. That works out to an instance of 'had' in every other sentence. I'd suggest looking for stronger, stand-alone verbs. For example, "Mama had asked herself…" could be "Mama muttered to herself…" or even the shorter, "Mama muttered."
I have no idea what happens next, but I would definitely turn the page to see how Mama gets retribution. Or perhaps it will be Gretchen who comes up with a scheme to muzzle her piggy brother. So many possibilities! Well done!
I really like the playful tone of the story too. It certainly helps to set up the idea we’re getting a reworking of a fairy tale.Personally, I’d like just a few more crumbs dropped in to give us establishing clues. The choice of names is good. We’re likely in Germany or Austria or thereabouts. Can you drop in a clue about when we are? I think it’s important in a retelling of a fairy tale as this has become quite a popular theme and people are putting all sorts of riffs on these classic stories.
Adding to Kathy’s comments about the use of ‘had,’ there’s a division happening between International English and US English with tense verbs. They’re becoming unpopular in US English, which is infuriating for the rest of the world because they indicate where the sentence has occurred in time.
The paragraphs following the opening two lines are in the past perfect tense so the use of ‘had’ is correct. It does also qualify as back story, which is also out of fashion at the moment. Dunno why. Trends I suppose. Personally, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It’s an age old storytelling tool.
Anyway, one option might be to move the past perfect passage into the past tense, which would obviously require re-jigging the opening of the story. Then you can cross out all the instances of had to please your American readers.
You can also use the present tense in your sentence structure to give more immediacy, which softens the use of the past perfect tense.
She’d apologised with a curtsy and gone to see what was delaying Mama.
Can be done as:
Apologising with a curtsy, she’d gone to see what was delaying Mama.
Carry on, good sir!
Mod
I must be the exception to the rule. Gimme a discussion about grammar any day. I find the way English goes together endlessly fascinating.Well, those following lines would need tweaking because yes, you're right, Kathy, they slip back into past tense. That can get fixed further down the track.
I also understand the American frustration with the past perfect tense. It's hard to write it well because all those tense verbs bog down sentences. They give it a clunky, halting rhythm, so they need clever crafting to get a smooth narrative flow.
Another solution is to simply add a scene break (with an asterism or other symbol), rather than a soft break as David has done with the blank line. Then he can write it in past tense, as long as he establishes the passage happens before the opening lines.
It's a good discussion. This all goes to establishing the story for the reader, which is what the first few pages need to do well.
Mod
Have to run off in a few minutes, so I can't really do this justice. But I did have a thought in regards to the use of various past tenses to establish a clear time line.
How about if you simply delete those two opening sentences? To my mind, they don't contribute significantly to the story, but they do then prevent you from using a simple past tense in the remainder of the text. And I'm sorry to hear that my fellow country(wo)men are stirring up so much trouble, but I do agree that using the past perfect tense tends to add an unnecessary layer between the narration and the reader.
Other than that, my only potential quibble is in the overall tone. It's been years since I've read any Grimm, but I remember the writing being more austere, almost stark at times, and that very few attempts are made to convey the characters' inner thoughts. Since this is your own revised version, maybe using a friendlier, more contemporary narrative voice is appropriate, but I think if it were a little less cozy it might ultimately have more impact.
And yes, I'm curious as to how that little porker gets his well-deserved comeuppance.
Hi David,Another E.A. Walker fairy tale?! Can't wait to read it.
I agree with Brian about omitting the opening lines and jumping right into the Muellers arriving for Sunday tea, but disagree about staying with a "Grimm" atmosphere. Especially if your MC has a young girl's viewpoint.
Is there a reason you need this as a flashback? If not, I think it could be more effective and better gain your reader's interest in that young girl's tale if she tells it as it occurs to her. And to her greedy little brother.
But that's just my always suspect opinion. Looks like this will be as fun to read as it probably is to write.
My sincere thanks to all of you. I'm about midway now, and will be taking all of these points into consideration when I come to revising the first draft. While I love the opening sentences, I see the need to sort out the flow. Brian, you're right about the original Grimms' tone. While I did describe this as a "retelling of the Grimms' 'Hansel and Gretel'", I did not mean that it would have a similar style. It's more of a remake into something else.
Mike and Kathy (Ferguson): 'E.A. Walker' generally writes in UK English (my cultural heritage). While I wouldn't go so far as to call Americans 'grammar barbarians', I do find that tenses in US English are sometimes unclear, or, for me as primarily a UK English user, misleading.
Mod
The book is called the Illusionaires, and it's a three-part fantasy/alt. history with this first segment set in 1938.
1
The house lights dim. The curtains pull back. An empty stage is revealed.
A second passes, then two, then three. A murmur fills the hall. Next up it’s the chatter of programs, gripped in impatience, and a couple of coughs ringing out. And yes, of course, tricks were expected, but not this kind of trick, the transmutation of hard-earned cash into waiting for God knows what. Finally someone, a well-dressed man, exits from the third row, then hesitates as he reaches the aisle, contemplating his next move.
Find an usher? Inform the promoter? Each option is scrutinized. Until, all at once, he spins around, heading for the stage. The lip of the proscenium itself is a good five feet off the floor, but without a moment’s hesitation the man leaps into the air, only to land on his outstretched arms and then roll into a tumble. There’s an audible gasp—from a woman, it sounds like—one that catches the man off-guard, and what had been a moment of consummate grace ends in an ugly pratfall. For a second he lies there, splayed out on the stage, feeling the sting of comeuppance. Then, in a stiff-lipped show of resolve, he climbs back to his feet.
There is, however, a problem. His left arm is detached from his body.
He stares down at the severed limb. A child who’s acting naughty. Then he bends down, right arm extended, and both hands grip one another. There’s a playful moment of mano a mano, no clear winner in sight, which ends when the man attempts to return the lost limb back into the sleeve of his jacket. But wait. Another problem. A second arm has already sprouted. Is now emerging from the empty sleeve as a bulb breaks through the earth. Revealing a hint of annoyance, he glares at the renegade arm, then jams the stump atop his head, spoiling his perfect coif.
A man with an arm growing out of his head. A disquieting prospect at best. But that, of course, is his very intention, his modus operandi as it were; to delight and disturb in equal measures, to draw them in and then chase them away.
“Ladies and gentlemen and whatever else you may be, I am Richard Constairs.”
Wow. That's a great opening act, I mean first page. I feel that not much is needed for this to be ready for publication. Just that, in general, there seems to me to be a need to tie subjects to descriptions a little more closely, especially where the description, or allegory, is in another sentence. For example, "...the severed limb. A child who's acting naughty." I'd prefer "As if it were a child..." or "It's a child..."
Also, "as a bulb breaks through the earth" would be better, for me, as "like a bulb breaking through the earth." (And, I think that sentence needs to join the foregoing sentence.)
Nevertheless, nice work.
P.S. Is 'comeuppance' the best word? It may be...
What an intriguing opening. I'd like to see that act. And definitely read on.I'm left with two impressions. The first is that the narrator is putting on as entertaining a show as the character and the actions being described. Although I enjoyed the wordplay, I was also somewhat distanced as a reader. The viewpoint is so strong I was unsure if I was to be invested in the character, Richard Constairs, of if he was just part of an amusing anecdote. Of course, the last sentence when he introduces himself clarified the matter, but up to that point it was unclear. At least for me.
The second impression was that this was all taking place in front of a blank screen. The descriptions of people and place are minimal; too minimal for me as a lover of historical fiction. I've no doubt with your obvious writing skill you could set us firmly inside that theater in 1938.
Is it an old ramshackle building in a one horse town, or an opulent venue filled with crystal and brass? Is it an opening night crowd dressed to the nines, or a working class matinee? These details could inform your reader as to the performer's status: is he on the rise or sliding into obscurity? You've stated that it's alt history, but is war still looming on the horizon? Are people still struggling through a depressed economy? Just some thoughts as to setting that stage, so to speak.
Not sure if any of this is helpful. And as many here know, my opinions are suspect as best. I really enjoyed your writing and am intrigued by the concept. Good work, sir!
Brian, it appears I've neglected to read the work of a talented writer. That's a superb opening. It has intrigue, a great hook and quite delicious word play.I agree with Kathy on the point about feeling distanced from Richard Constairs. I think the distancing comes from the strong authorial voice in the opening. It's all Brian describing the opening scene. I think it works perfectly well as an opening, but now Richard has been introduced, I'm ready to get inside his head, or whatever you have planned for us next.
And same comment from me as per David's piece. It lacks a few immersive and establishing clues. It simply a matter of adding some clever details that let us know where and when we are. Our imagination fills out the rest.
Carry on the good work!
Kathleen wrote: "Although I enjoyed the wordplay, I was also somewhat distanced as a reader. The viewpoint is so strong I was unsure if I was to be invested in the character, Richard Constairs, of if he was just part of an amusing anecdote"*That* was what I felt but failed to get a handle on. Well put, Kathy.
Mod
Perhaps this was foolish on my part, but I wanted the first chapter to be more than a little disorientating, so that the experience of the reader mirrors the confusion of the audience itself. As the story proceeds, a lot of the questions you had end up being answered.
I also wanted the narrative tone to reflect the setting and era. As a performer, our protagonist has perfected a wordy, inflated stage patter, and so I wanted the description of events to mimic his speech patterns and word choices.
Plus it was fun to write. And if you can't, as an author, keep yourself entertained, then good luck on snagging your readers.
Mod
Okay, let me play devil's advocate here for a moment, Brian. You say that the audience will be confused by the action. If that's true, then won't readers also be confused by the action? Do they need more added confusion from the writing style?
I think that it's great to capture the narrative tone of the era, but everyone in that era didn't use wordy, inflated stage patter. Would it perhaps be better to use that style more exclusively for the character when you're in his close viewpoint? It seems like that would help set him off nicely from the historic background while still keeping him connected. Just a couple of alternative approaches to consider. It's a great start that definitely grabs the reader. I'll be interested to see how you 'alter' the history.
Mod
Thanks for the input. Like I said, with the book involving three separate sections set in three different eras, I wanted each one to have its own flavor. For this first one I was hoping to capture the kind of quick, breezy vernacular exchanges you'd find in a Howard Hawks film, along with some of the inflated, theatrical speech patterns a performer might use. My intention wasn't to throw the reader, more to let her/him know they'd stepped into a different world. Whether I succeeded is of course a different matter.
Inspired by your bravery, I'm submitting my latest addition to the timeslip novel I've been working on since the invention of writing.The blurb is: Megan Alexander is used to being a hero, but she's never met these kinds of pirates before. Or has she?
A terrible accident on set sends Meg to a place and time that seem like fantasy, but the characters in it are all too real.
Anyway, I've had the same opening for years and have recently added this little 'prologue'. Thanks for all input. It's always inspiring.
THE SCREEN IS DARK, SO BLACK IT CAN ONLY BE ARTIFICIAL. SLOWLY, LIGHT ILLUMINATES THE DARKNESS UNTIL THE SEATED FIGURE OF A WOMAN IS VISIBLE.
LOVELY, DESPITE OBVIOUS GRIEF, HER GAZE IS FIXED ON A SMALL BLANKETED FORM IN HER ARMS. BESIDE HER STANDS A MAN, AS HANDSOME AS THE WOMAN IS BEAUTIFUL, HIS GRIEF MIRRORING HERS.
THE CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL A SMALL ROOM, DECORATED TO PROVIDE AN INSTITUTIONAL LEVEL OF COMFORT: SUBDUED COLOR SCHEME, UPHOLSTERED CHAIRS, BLAND ARTWORK, DIM LIGHTING. DESPITE THESE THOUGHTFUL TOUCHES, AN AIR OF MELANCHOLY PERMEATES THE ROOM, AS THOUGH THE WALLS ACHE FROM WITNESSING TOO MANY HEARTS BROKEN AND LIVES SHATTERED.
A SLIGHT FIGURE, POSSIBLY MALE, DRESSED IN NONDESCRIPT SCRUBS, MOVES INTO FRAME TO GENTLY, BUT FIRMLY, TAKE THE SMALL BODY FROM THE WOMAN’S ARMS. HERS IS A TOKEN PROTEST, QUICKLY STIFLED.
THE ATTENDANT PAUSES WHEN THE MAN AT THE WOMAN’S SIDE REACHES OUT TO GENTLY MOVE THE BLANKET FROM THE INFANT’S FACE.
“GOOD-BYE, MY LITTLE LOVE; MY LITTLE BETH,” THE MAN MURMURS AS HE LEANS OVER TO KISS THE INFANT’S FOREHEAD. “FLY TO HEAVEN, MY ANGEL.”
COLOR FILLS THE WOMAN’S PALE FACE. SHE JERKS INTO MOTION, CHANGED FROM FROZEN STATUE TO FIERY VIRAGO.
“BETH IS DEAD, NICK.” HER WORDS ARE SCATHING, HER AGONY PALPABLE. “THERE IS NO HEAVEN. THERE ARE NO ANGELS. THERE’S ONLY HELL AND WE’RE IN IT.”
THE MAN SHE CALLS NICK WINCES, HIS PAIN OBVIOUS AS HER OWN. STILL, HE TRIES TO EMBRACE THE WOMAN, MURMURING, “MEG.”
THE ATTENDANT WATCHES IN SYMPATHY AS THE WOMAN PUSHES THE MAN AWAY, THEN RETURNS ALL ATTENTION TO THE HEARTBREAKINGLY STILL INFANT. THE LIFT OF THE ATTENDANT’S LIPS HINTS A SMILE.
“WE HAVE OUR WORK CUT OUT FOR US, LITTLE BETH.” THE ATTENDANT TIPS A FINGER TO THE BABY’S NOSE AND THOUGH PROBABLY ONLY A TRICK OF LIGHT, FOR A MOMENT IT APPEARS THE BABY RETURNS THAT SHADOWY SMILE.
THE ATTENDANT TAKES ONE LAST LOOK AT THE COUPLE SUNDERED BY GRIEF BEFORE JOINING AN ELDERLY MAN STANDING SILENT IN THE OPEN DOORWAY, WATCHING THE PAINFUL SCENE UNFOLD. THE ATTENDANT SLOWS TO HAND THE INFANT TO THE OLD MAN, WHO APPEARS TO BE WEEPING. TURNING THE CORNER, THEY DISAPPEAR FROM VIEW.
WITH A SOB THAT IS MORE OF A GASP, THE WOMAN RUNS FROM THE ROOM WITHOUT A SECOND LOOK FOR THE MAN SHE LEFT BEHIND.
FADE TO BLACK.
Mod
Some great stuff here. Very powerful, emotionally gripping, and a perfect set-up for whatever you have planned. But to be able to really critique this requires a better understanding what it is.
In you opening comments, you indicate this is part of a novel - a prolog? a preamble? - but it almost reads more like stage directions for a play or screenplay. The way you set the scene, describe the action, has a kind of raw, un-doctored immediacy that really grabs the reader. But at the same time you use some beautiful, lyrical language that doesn't quite mesh with this more restrained approach.
So, please, fill me in. Tell me what I'm reading. If I know your mission statement, what you're setting out to do, I could then give better feedback as to how well you're achieving your goals. But make no mistake - you're on to something special.
Hi Brian,Thanks for the very kind words. And please, call me Kathy. Or 'the other Kathy', if you like. Kathleen, although my name and a lovely one at that, always seems so formal.
If you read some of the old comments on this site you might see teasing references to my 'pirate tale.' I've been playing around with it for a very long time and can't seem to find an ending that I like or even makes sense. But for years the first chapter began with a faux hanging on a movie set that turned turned all too real. The switch from describing the scene as if it were really happening to it actually being part of a film turned off some readers. They felt cheated by the unreliability of that narration. So, I've recently been playing around with a prologue presenting the MC's backstory in the form of a movie script. Adding in another layer of unreality to make the later switch more palatable.
Or maybe not.
Oh well, it amuses me. And as you said earlier, if we can't entertain ourselves, how can we hope to intrigue others? Or at least that's what I tell myself.
Thanks again for the encouragement and your interest. I appreciate them both!
Mod
Thanks for clarifying things, and for letting me know that I'm not crazy, and this is indeed a portion of a screenplay. Given that set-up, here are some thoughts.
The use of upper case is good - an immediate tip-off to the reader. But I can't help wanting at least one more clue to set the parameters. "The screen is dark" alone might not cut it. Problem is, I don't have any concrete suggestions. Maybe skimming through some actual screenplays might yield inspiration.
Next up, it's the use of language. I'm pretty ignorant when it comes to the format, but I've always thought that most plays and screenplays use a concise, value-neutral vocabulary to set the scene and describe the action. But if you play by these rules, then some of the more lyrical and affecting material would have to be excised. So the question you need to ask yourself is which is ultimately more important - being faithful to your premise or grabbing your readers by the throat.
If you choose the former, you'll be stuck with having to somehow convey the characters' moods and motives through observable action alone. That old boogey-man, show don't tell. Another way to honor the format would be to have all dialog in break-out paragraphs prefaced by the characters' name. Though either technique might hamstring you, it might be one of those challenges that, in the long run, both make you a better author, and make the intro that much stronger.
Lastly, I'm curious as to whether or not you return to the screenplay at other points in the novel. Using such passages might lend an overall coherence to the MS, and provide an interesting tension between what would be a conventional first- or third-person narration and a "just the facts" screenplay format.
Hopefully this will be of some use. Sometimes the books that haunt us for years do so for a reason, and I admire your tenacity and faith in the writing process.
I'm late to the party this time.Kathy, why is your book shouting?
LOL... kidding.
Finally, we see a glimpse of the long awaited pirate story. Great concept, but man have we been waiting a long time for it!
I have studied and taught screenwriting (theatre and film is my university major). A film script doesn't use neutral language. Quite the opposite. It's essentially a selling document, as in it's designed to communicate a film's potential to a director and a producer who then make it a reality. You can be as lyrical as you like in your use of language.
Coming back to my awful joke at the start, I balked at the capitals as I started to read, not realising until I was a few paragraphs in that you were riffing a script. I'd suggest writing it as a script if you want to go that direction, so you'll need to format it as a film script, which is quite specific.
Also, I really like the idea as a prologue, especially if you're going to start the novel on a film set. It's a nice play on the layers of reality in life and art.
HI MIKE! WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY NOVEL IS SHOUTING? THIS IS THE WAY IT ALWAYS TELLS THE STORY!(You're not the only one prone to bad jokes.)
Thanks to you and to you too, Brian, for the great comments and the encouragement. I wrote the prologue just a couple days ago and was kind of excited by the idea of adding another layer of unreality to this neverending story of mine. I tried looking at the link you provided, Mike; but it wouldn't open for me. But I think I can muddle around the net and find some examples. I'm just glad that my new idea sounds promising to someone other than me.
Kathy Ferguson was kind enough to read the latest version and she made some observations that I found very inspirational. Although I still haven't come up with an ending, I think I might be a little closer. But I've said that before, haven't I? :)
Thanks again!
Ah, bless other other Kathy, also known as Kathy F. Yes, she's a gun for structural editing. I take advantage whenever I can assume on her time.
Mod
I see a couple of problems with this new prologue. First, while some of your writer friends may understand about caps and a movie or play script, readers in general won't have a clue. They'll identify it as a formatting error and wonder whether it bodes ill for the editing of the rest of the manuscript.
Second, while the writing is beautiful and evocative (and gives us a glimpse of some shadowy characters we see more of later), it's still a backstory info dump. You handle incorporating the loss of the child beautifully later in the manuscript.
I agree that your current opening where you don't tell readers what they're seeing is a scene from a movie being shot feels like a cheat. I don't know that this prologue does anything more to fix that issue. It seems quite unrelated since both the characters are in heavy makeup and won't be recognized as the people in the prologue. I think the real fix is perhaps to tell the reader immediately that it's a scene from a movie in production. I do love the unreality of the prologue. It would be wonderful if perhaps the main character is more cognizant of herself as a grieving mother while also a witch about to be hanged and if she recognizes how unreal it is to have a foot in both these worlds. That would kind of foreshadow exactly what happens as she ping-pongs between the pirate reality and the hospital. It would also alleviate reader complaints that you strung them along thinking the hanging was real. It's clear from the strong prologue that you have the writing chops to weave the unreality in. Or possibly you'll think of something else you'd like to do. I'll be interested to see where you go. This is such a good story!
Are you having problems with the ending because you aren't really sure yet how you want to resolve your debate about what death is? About your main character's lesson learned? What is it that your story is going to say about the human condition?
Keep writing! I want to see how this ends!
Thank you, Kathy! Perceptive and practical as always. Your thoughts and especially your encouragement have been so helpful.I think I'm having a hard time because I can't come up with an ending the characters deserve. There's nothing that irks me more than a good story with a bad ending.
I started writing this on a whim and it intrigued me enough to keep writing even when I had no idea whatsoever why poor Meg had gotten into this predicament and how to give Lilibet, Elspeth, Jamie, and Nick/Simon the resolutions they deserve. Your astute observations, and Marise's before that, have sparked a bit of light for my dark journey; I don't feel quite as blind as I once did.
As fun as it was to play around with prologue, and to play my little blooper reel trick at the start of Chapter One, I think I'm going to have to fess up from the first sentence that this is a movie set. It won't take much alteration.
If you all don't mind, I think I might post the revision here to see if it works.
Thanks all, for your kind words and helpful observations. I appreciate them and all of you so very much!
Mod
I realize that I have a huge advantage over the other commenters because I've seen so much more of the story. I would suggest that this might be a good time to brainstorm a list of possible endings for each of your characters. Sometimes that will trigger ideas that hadn't occurred previously.
Another possible trick is to write your blurb for the book. Since a blurb needs to include that 50K foot level view of the goals and motivation of the main character, it can sometimes shine a light on potential endings.
I've been where you are, trying to figure out what, in the end, I meant to say with the work. It's so darn annoying! Hang in there. This fog, too, shall pass!
So, this is much longer than 400 words, but I added to the original 1st chapter and wanted to get feedback to see if the addition works or seems clunky.Nearly everyone in Newmarch agreed that this was the most exciting day in the small town’s long history. Or at least in the nearly three hundred years since the witch had been hanged. Actually, nobody thought the old woman had really been a witch: merely unlucky, unloved, and unprotected. The town’s two historians, one official and one honorary, who out of principle and New England individualism, almost never agreed about anything, were almost in agreement that the old woman hadn’t died from the hanging. Not technically, anyway. Or even that pirates had been part of the attempted rescue, although pirate ships had once haunted the New England coastline. Still, it was the long disproved old tale about the witch that brought the movie crew to town.
They hadn’t arrived at once, but in waves, like the ocean on a stormy day. First the camera crew had arrived in jeeps and vans, scouting scenery and evaluating light. Then the production crew’s trucks had thundered in carrying the physical equipment and materials needed to create ephemeral movie magic. The next wave to crash into town was costume and makeup, working in long trailers filled with fabric, wigs, latex prosthetics, and a rainbow palette of makeup products. Finally, the director and the cast, like spectacular flashes of lightning, electrified the town with their arrivals.
Truth be told, the townfolk would have crackled with excitement over a sighting of almost any low-wattage D-list celebrity, but even the most uninformed octogenarian had seen at least one Gardner Rose movie. The world-famous director had burst on the scene with a small movie filmed in his native New Zealand in the late 90’s and had subsequently directed and produced most of the highest grossing and best rated films of the past two decades.
But as famous and accomplished as he was, even Gardner Rose’s light was dimmed by the two stars he’d cast as the leads in his film: Nicholas Fielding and Megan Alexander.
Once America’s sweethearts, NickandMeg, as the tabloids proclaimed them, had fallen in love before the watching eye of the camera while filming At First Sight. Followed with breathless intensity by the worldwide press from their first meeting on set, they’d tried, and failed, to keep their romance private. Against the odds, they had managed to fool the paparazzi and wed in a small ceremony in Meg’s family home in Wisconsin. Pictures of their honeymoon in Florence had papered the tabloids, and the solitary photo of their newborn daughter taken by a heartless hospital employee had sold for an undisclosed amount, rumored to be at least six figures. Their subsequent divorce had sold nearly as many papers as their wedding.
And now, here they were, in sleepy old Newmarch, starring in Gardner Rose’s latest action movie. And not just NickandMeg; as always, the famous director had assembled a stellar cast: Arthur Baker, the celebrated Shakespearan actor; Daniel Elliott, an Irish actor rumored to be People Magazine’s next Sexiest Man Alive, and Emily Grogran, the most sought after child actor working in Hollywood, were all part of the cast. It was amazing, almost as magical as the movies themselves.
The first three days had already passed and now had come time for the last and most complicated shot of the four day shoot. By this time, the not only townies cast as extras, but all the usual spectators knew the routine and stopped chattering as the cameras swung into place and the young woman carrying the digital clapboard stepped forward and announced the scene.
(end of addition--start of original 1st chapter)
A single voice began the chant; but it was soon taken up by another, and then another, until it became a heartbeat of hatred.
“Die, witch! Die, witch! Die, witch!”
The jeers of the crowd were lost on the figure approaching the rickety scaffold. A hump the size of her head strained the fabric of the old woman’s worn clothes. Above the broad expanse of body, her features appeared more a series of angles than a face. A hooked nose shadowed a long sharp chin; matted rectangles of gray hair obscured her eyes and most of the wrinkles surrounding them.
A clod of dirt, thrown with force, struck her mouth. The old woman stumbled on the scaffold stair. Hands tied tight behind her back, she would have fallen, had it not been for the steady hand of the young man guarding her.
“Careful. No point in killing yourself before they hang you,” the guard warned.
The mob joined in his laughter.
Together the old woman and the young man reached the platform. A rough-hewn bench had been set beneath a dangling noose; beside it, waiting with the patience of death itself, stood the executioner. The old woman hobbled forward. The two men assisted her onto the tall bench set center-stage on the scaffold.
The executioner slipped the heavy rope around the old crone’s head, lifting her black kerchief to better fit the noose to her neck.
Somewhere, not far away, a church bell tolled. As if reacting to a signal, another gust of wind sent crumpled brown leaves dancing around the platform. Overhead, the bare limbs of a dead tree collided, creaking like old bones picked dry; sounding almost as if nature herself had rubbed her hands in satisfaction that soon the old witch would be well and truly dead.
Unleashed, but not unpracticed, the mob surged forward to surround the scaffold. The old woman scanned the crowd; her gaze halted on three figures. The first man’s wide, floppy hat could not hide his handsome face from the stares of the young women near him. He held the hand of a girl of perhaps eight or nine years, well-fed, but dressed in worn and simple clothing. She clutched the well-groomed fur of a golden retriever whose tail never stopped wagging. Beside her crouched a man covered from head to toe with a voluminous brown mantle, the shapeless hood pulled low to mask his face from the crowd.
A figure stepped out from between the trees that had shadowed him. Tall and spare, with thin grey locks fluttering beneath his simple hat to line his pockmarked face, he raised a sheet of paper to read a proclamation, but his eyes never scanned the page.
“Know all gathered here this day that Margaret Shipton has been tried by due course of law and judged guilty of the crimes of witchcraft and blasphemy.” Although his words were cruel, the man’s voice low voice had a seductive purr at odds with his looks. “And will hang by the neck until she is dead. Thereafter, her body will be set upon the flames to burn her corruption from the earth, just as her soul will burn throughout all eternity in hell.” Without once looking at the woman he had sentenced to death, the man stepped back toward the trees and into their ever-lengthening gloom.
“What have you to say?” The executioner’s voice was strangely gentle.
The crone opened her mouth to recite the words expected of her, but as she did, the large yellow dog pulled away from the young girl’s grasp. Sauntering to the platform, he lifted his leg. A stream of bright urine flowed against the dark wood.
An amused snort from deep within the tree-dappled shadows started it. The old woman tried to maintain her composure but failed miserably. She giggled. The executioner standing beside her frowned, but then his own lips lifted in return. The amusement became contagious, as person after person in the previously hostile crowd, like naughty children in church, broke into laughter.
“Cut! Come on, Meg. We don’t have long before we lose the light. We have to get this shot.”
My judgement is worth little here. In music and lit, I always like the original better than the remaster, the re-mix or the cover version. It's a matter of loyalty more than true judgement. I liked that this story began with a witch about to be hung, with little clues that it was costume and script, and then we find it is a movie... and then jump OZ-like to another reality mirroring the 'real' one.
Putting exposition at the front means it doesn't start as exciting, and doesn't promise twists. Granted, it makes it easier for a reader to know what is what....
So I'd say at best it solves some issues, but takes away some of the fun.
Good narrative quality; Ms. Garlock has an excellent way of putting scene to words.
While I had a damned good laugh at the first version (I imagine David will too), I have to say I like the original version better as it pulls the reader straight into the action.I feel your pain, Kathy. I'm working on a crime story which has three different first chapters at present and none of them seem right.
Agree with Mike (surprise, surprise!) and Raymond both. I love the original start; I think it's the best by far.I also feel maybe you need to take a break from this one. Leave it completely for at least a month and work on something else. Get some perspective, and stop wearing your creativity out against the grindstone. Maybe?
Well, three is the charm, or so they say. The original first chapter remains as it is. Now I just have to come up with a good last chapter (and maybe one or two more before it) and I can finally put this story to rest.Thank you Ray, Mike, and David! Great advice. I think I should try to work on something else for a bit--I'm doing pretty well at not working on this story, as Ray can attest. He saw this back in the old authonomy days and it was getting a little elderly then. Now it's as old as the old witch herself.
Mod
For me, the new beginning is a cold and distant omniscient narrator giving information that would seem to place the location and the director as characters of as much importance as your lead, which is not what the rest of the novel is about.
I'd suggest you're working too hard to fix your problem, which I would define as users not realizing that they are watching the shooting of a movie scene. How about if you leave everything exactly as it is but with one new starting line:
The director shouted, "Take three. Lights, camera, action!"
Mod
26 March, 2040
Rafe McTavish waited in the aisle of the shuttle while Wolf, head of Sharma family security on Oasis, cracked the hatch seals. Just in front of Rafe, Kama Bhatia pulled the elastic band from her ponytail, letting her rich brown locks fall around her shoulders.
Wolf eyed Kama and said, "Yeah, like that's going to help."
Kama snatched Wolf's ratty baseball cap from his head and jammed it on her own, pulling the brim low. Wolf snorted. To Rafe, it didn't sound jocular.
Kama faced him. "You're not needed here, McTavish. Go home. I can handle this."
It was the first time she'd spoken to him since they'd left Harvest—beyond telling him to buckle up. At the Harvest jump gate station, she'd disappeared into the cockpit of a space ship the likes of which he'd never seen. From the outside, it appeared to be a standard jump ship cargo transport. The interior consisted of the cockpit at the front, a tiny space with a couple of uncomfortable fold-down seats, and what he'd assumed was the cargo space beyond. Based on the deafening rumbling from that final compartment during their transit, he'd assumed wrong.
Before they'd left the Harvest jump gate station, he hadn't understood why Kama had tried to prevent him from traveling with her and Wolf. Half an hour later, when they docked at Oasis' orbital jump gate station, he had his answer.
Traveling across the galaxy that fast simply wasn't possible. They should have taken the Harvest jump gate to Earth, and then the Earth gate to Oasis, all of which would have eaten up hours and required priority permissions reserved for highly placed government officials. He was sure Kama hadn't obtained permissions.
Or perhaps she had. She could hack into any computer system in the galaxy as easily as drawing breath. That still didn't explain their rapid transit or the skipped gates. He could only guess that their gateless jump ship was another of Kama's secrets. Now they were here, underground, stepping off a shuttle into Oasis' colony.
Rafe schooled his face into respectful determination. "I won't leave Greg to face an attempted murder charge alone. He's just a kid."
When he didn't back down from Kama's blistering glare, she said, "Every word you speak will be recorded. Every move you make will be watched. Your nanocom will be hacked. There's no place you can hide. You're in enemy territory. Don't forget that for a moment."
A question first. As the third book, is the reader expected to know what has happened before, or does the story stand alone?
Mod
Ah, a story in the style of Arthur C. Christie. Definitely my cup of replicated tea.
Here's my ten cents. Certainly intriguing and nicely written. I can see it would be very beneficial to have read the other books first.As I don't know anything about the characters (at least four are introduced) or this vision of the future, it feels like a bit of an info dump. There's a lot of information in a very compressed passage, characters, plot, back story, tech, other worlds and so forth.
Dunno how you balance it out for new readers to the series.
For me, as someone who has already met these characters in the first installment of the series, this opening was a little static. Like Mike said, a little info dumpy.So, I know one of the cardinal rules is never to start out with dialogue, but I kind of like the thought of cutting the opening paragraphs and beginning with:
"You're not needed here, McTavish." (I would skip the go home, because how can he go home without her, if as is later noted, she employed major computer wizardry to get them to their destination?) This potentially clues the reader into the idea that he really will be needed there.
It was the first time Kama had spoken to him since . . .
And then I would switch the order of the paragraphs a little bit. Have Rafe talk about being there for Greg and have Kama warn him about being recorded and the dangers awaiting him. Maybe introduce the speed of the trip and the unique qualities of the ship through dialogue rather than descriptive paragraphs. The back and forth between Rafe and Kama will amuse return readers and quickly introduce their relationship to new readers.
Just my 7.371 cents (US vs New Zealand exchange rate).
:o)
Mod
Finally getting a chance to chime in.
Like my two predecessors, I did feel you were in a hurry to provide as much explanation/back-story as possible. I think it would work better to salt the information a bit more judiciously over a longer period of time.
And much like Kathleen, I had the same thought about starting things with more of a bang. The fact that a brand-new form of space travel is being introduced should be put out there front and center. It could be a snatch of dialog ("How the hell can we be at Oasis already? We never even docked on Earth."), it could be Rafe's own thoughts, but somehow you have it make it immediately clear what a game-changer this development represents.
Anyhow, that's my two cents. Decimal points confuse me.
Yes, works for me too if the information is spread in more manageable doses. I know Kathy loves sub-plots coming out the wazoo, but I think the opening needs to make it clear what the main plot is about, which appears to be Rafe getting Greg off a murder charge. That was the bit that made me sit up and take interest too.
Mod
Mike, you are correct. The whodunnit murder mystery is the main plot. The secret ship technology becomes important in the very late game but by appearing now, it's dragging the story in the wrong direction.
Kathy, I've seen that advice about not opening with dialogue. I've never understood why 'they' say that. As a reader, it works for me, and I've used it in other books.
Thanks, Brian, for chiming in. Your comments have revealed a plot hole coming later, one that I need to address before I go any farther.
Something I've been fiddling around with for a while now. A Sci-Fi novel titled "The Ninth Ship".Egmandimor the Radiant believed that ur job was to manage change; that the best way to manage change was to prevent it; and that the best way to prevent change was to identify the proponents and instigators of change as quickly as possible, chop them to bits, and feed them to the munburds nesting in the divinitorium of Ovo’s Citadel in the Holy City of Idavala.
But change, like death, can only be avoided for so long, and however much we prepare for it, change inevitably catches us napping, or, as in Egmandimor’s case, in the middle of breakfast.
Egmandimor was munching on a tenderly roasted and delicately seasoned grake leaf in the winter breakfast room of Ovo’s Citadel, when Herwal, ur oldest and most trusted servant, approached Egmandimor and said, “Excuse me, Your Firstness, but we have . . . there is . . . we have received reports—”
Egmandimor, grake leaf juice dripping from ur mandibles, turned towards the old underling and said “What is it, Herwal? Speak plainly.”
“Yes, Your Firstness. We have received reports that an angel has descended from heaven into the Garden of Healing Roots.”
Egmandimor set the grake leaf down on ur plate. Pinkish-red juice leaked out of the neat, serrated arc ru had nibbled into the leaf. This year already, three underlings had been exsanguinated by vampire toads, and another crushed in the blossom of a deadly night scythe, while gathering grake leaves in The Horrible Forest. It was a shame to let a grake leaf go to waste. But if the thing in the Garden of Healing Roots was an angel, it was probably best not to keep it waiting.
Ru dabbed at ur pink-stained claws and mandibles with a napkin seven underlings had spent seven years embroidering. “Summon Annik and Ulgar,” Egmandimor said.
Herwal up-undulated, then left to fetch the guards. The sun had just come up, and the winter breakfast room was flooded with a bright, pink, and warmless light. It was too bad, Egmandimor thought, that Waemorvin wasn’t around to see this angel—if that’s what it was. Waemorvin would have loved to see one of Ovo’s angels. Waemorvin would have been ecstatic just hearing about an angel in The Garden of Healing Roots.
Egmandimor wasn’t ecstatic. An angel wouldn’t come to The Holy City without an agenda. Its mere appearance would stir up the struggen, never mind what it might do or say. Could an angel be chopped to bits? Could it be fed to munburds? Egmandimor could recollect no mention of an angel coming to any serious harm in The Treeth of Ovo. But if an angel could be chopped to bits, Annik and Ulgar were the struggen for the job.
Oozing creativity. You've clearly envisioned an alien world with superb clarity. But I don't really know what's going on here. For me, the main problem is too much new and obscure information without context.The alternate personal pronoun in the first sentence threw me right out of the story from the get go. I was thinking, is that a typo? Why is that there? I read it three times trying to work out what it meant. Plus, that's one crazy complex sentence to open a book. Apply the old rule of 'read it aloud' to see if it flows.
With the pure info dump of names, places, different words and so forth, for me, what's needed here is authorial intervention into the story. Right now, Jonathan hasn't featured in the narrative to ease the reader into this world, to gently explain things like what 'ur' denotes, what a struggen is, and so forth.
It's a tricky balancing act. Overdone, we feel patronised as readers. Underdone, we have to work really hard to understand what's going on. But certainly, some hand-holding is required. After using sanitiser of course.
Yeah, the pronouns are . . . difficult, even for the author. But this is a planet of highly-evolved, essentially genderless, grubs, for whom his/her he/she is an anagenderism. Jonathan does not want to reveal his god-like presence in this novel, except maybe in a prolog. "Consider for a moment a planet of genderless, highly evolved slugs . . ." might actually work.Michael wrote:
Nothing wrong with 'it' then. Much less confusing than 'ur.'
What bothered me most was that I battled at first to pronounce the very first word in the story. I didn't mind 'ur' so much, but I've read an awful lot of SF in my life, so maybeI'm not a typical reader. I do agree with Mike that there needs to be more hand-holding than there is. Particularly when genderless slugs are so difficult for human beings to relate to, with all our prejudices. No matter how highly evolved they might be.
I'm still looking for something to make me care about Egmandimor or any of them.
Mod
Done right, the process can tantalize, but as Michael pointed out, it's definitely a balancing act. As for everything else, there's some great stuff there. The tone is perfect - slyly humorous without sounding arch - and unlike David, I did care what happened to the EggMan. If it turns out he's not that sympathetic, you might need a more likeable protagonist, but let's give the guy a while to show his true colors.
Thanks for the comments friends--a lot to think about. That first page is tough. But then, so is the second page. And the third . . .
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