By John Gilstrap
http://www.johngilstrap.com/
We’ve been doing this critique thing for a week or so, and it occurs to me that a one-page critique may be unfair to the writers. I want to make sure that they don’t get discouraged by the input they receive. I don’t know that I speak for everyone, but when I read these one-page samples, I find myself entering the exercise with the well-meaning intent to find a way to make the piece better. That’s fundamentally different than the way I read a book that has been published. When I read a book, I presume that the author knows exactly what he’s doing. If I become absorbed in the writer’s voice, I’m not going to parse words that occur mid-sentence.
This is not to say that there’s not real value in the critiques that are offered here–particularly those that deal with structure, passive voice and weak openings; but I worry that writers who are insecure with their skills will actualy start thinking too much. Never lose sight of your vision for your story, and never lose your ear for your own voice. If Stephen King and George Pelicanos and James Patterson were to set out to write the same story, the styles and structures would be entirely different, and I’m confident that all of them would be really good.
As with any critique, make sure you have the courage to reject input that you believe is wrong.
Now, for today’s sample (more from me on the flip side). Note that the italics are all mine, not the author’s.
Chapter One
Comedian Frankie Doyle was in a piss-poor mood. His Friday-night gig at the Improv had bombed, thanks to a couple of jack-weeds in the front row who kept heckling his setups. Then his agent had called with bad news: Frankie’s sitcom had been canceled. After just two episodes the network was replacing Frankie’s Nuts with a reality series, some asinine thing about hookers on Sunset Boulevard. The timing couldn’t be worse. Recently he’d been blowing through major dough while chasing the dragon. During his last high he’d paid cash for a BMW 8 Series.
Same old Frankie, his ex-wife’s voice echoed through his head. You’ll wind up on the street before you’re 30.
“Fat bitch.” Frankie addressed this comment to his waning head of beer. It was his fourth since he’d settled onto his regular stool at the Hook.
Once he finally settled behind the wheel of his car, Frankie began to cheer up. He inhaled the new-leather fragrance, feeling himself absorb some of the BMW’s mechanical testosterone. No one who drove such a magnificent machine could be called a loser, he thought. If his career went completely south, he’d simply move into the car.
Frankie goosed the accelerator down the California Incline and merged south onto the Pacific Coast Highway, a curving ribbon of asphalt wedged between the mountains and the sea. By now the booze had clobbered his senses. Shaking his head to stay awake, he failed to notice when the BMW began to drift. The left front tire edged over the double-yellow line, into the northbound lane.
* * *
Wow, there’s a lot to like here. I love the voice–mechanical testosterone, jack-weeds. I’m not sure I even know what chasing the dragon means, but it works. There’s a lot of energy in this writer’s voice. C’mon, “the booze had clobbered his senses”? That’s really, really good.
Here’s my problem with the piece: It’s not a great beginning. But it could be. Look at the first line: “Comedian Frankie Doyle was in a piss-poor mood.” Then it goes on to tell us why. My suggestion would be to open with the conversation–something really snappy and with attitude–in which Frankie learns that his sitcome is being canceled in favor of some stupid reality show. It’s the basic show-don’t-tell challenge. By giving us a POV scene where he feels his world coming apart, we’ll be instantly invested in the character.
You make a very good point about the difference between a one page critique and reading a book. Unless something really stands out at me, I don’t usually pick apart the first page of published work. I’ll usually give an author several pages to get going. I usually buy a book based on the back cover. Most of that stuff comes from the first half of the second act, so I’ll give an author until then to get into the story. If it doesn’t pick up after that, I don’t read any farther.
Good take, John.
I usually give a book more like ten pages. When I’m judging a contest I may go a few more, but truthfully a book worth reading (especially a book vying for BEST NOVEL sucks you in fairly quickly and holds you tightly. When you finish you wish there were more pages.
Stand in any large bookstore on a Saturday afternoon and you quickly see that the one-page judgment is a common occurrence. A potential customer is attracted by a cover or the authors name, reads the back blurb then reads the first page. The acceptance or rejection usually comes at the end of that page. I do it, and I watch others do it. Over the years, I have stood in B&N and rejected hundreds of books because they didn’t grab me on the first page. For me personally, they were not worth the price of entry. What TKZ has offered to do here is to take ONLY the information submitted in the first page of a WIP and make a judgment. We cannot assume that a better place to start the story may be on the next page or the next chapter. We can only go by what was submitted. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but that’s what happens the majority of the time when an agent or editor reads a submission. They simply don’t have time to see if things get better.
Here’s how I look at it. I would much rather get the bad news here and now, and have the opportunity to correct it than to submit to an agent and get a photocopied form rejection with no clue what went wrong. Rejection is part of this business as it is with all of the arts. It’s better to learn that now than later.
One other point: some of the submissions to our little one-page exercise showed great promise. Some needed only minor revision. And still, in the end, if you go back and read all the comments from all the submissions, there is no consensus of opinion. But if we have helped one new writer tell a better, stronger, more compelling story, then this was worth the price of entry.
BTW, I liked today’s submission and would keep reading if given the chance. The voice is strong. Like all the submissions over the last few weeks, it needs work, but it’s one of the best so far.
Good reminder, John G. The writers who stepped up to the plate and submitted are getting help, and should see it only that way. That’s our purpose here. While criticism can sting, you have to get well over it, and quickly, and take what’s helpful and use it. As John also said, if you believe strongly in your vision, by all means stick to it. (Just don’t dismiss all criticism out of hand).
As to this first page the best part is the voice. Many writers miss this in 3d person: you should have the narrative match the voice of the POV character. The way he or she might think it. This piece does that superbly.
But that being said, the first few paragraphs are really backstory and setup. Once again, I’d find the place where there is at least some action. The last paragraph, retooled, would be a good spot. Then, between the goose and the drift (which presages an accident, I’m sure) drop in only a little of the previous info.
That strategy, combined with the already excellent voice, will make this a knock out first page.
Wouldn’t change that first graph at all. It’s got attitude. Why do you need dialog to show that?
I think this is a pretty good page myself. I’d keep reading. As far first page being a fair read, like Joe, at the book store that is about how much time I give a book I am going to buy. No if it’s in audiobook format that’s another story, I will usually give it much more leeway as long as the narrator is good. But since reading print demands 100% of my attention to be ingested, I am pretty picky as to how many seconds before I hit the buzzer on a slow starter. Paint me into the scene though, and I’m there to the next page.
I go back and forth on this. I agree, if the premise is intriguing, I’ll read past the first page. But to break into the market initially, that first page usually has to be something special. You’re right, though, about picking and choosing from the critiques. As you can see from the wide array of comments on every piece, ever reader picks up on something different. For me, if I’m hearing the same criticism from a few different people, it’s time to make a change (hence my use of multiple beta readers for each manuscript).
I agree with Jim on this one, I’d open with the final paragraph on this page. I also think identifying Frankie as a comedian is superfluous. By following with “his Friday night gig at the Improv had bombed,” the reader will gather that he’s a comedian.
As I was reading over this post again, and some of the comments, I realized a better way to make my initial point about this opening paragraph. It feels like a kick-ass opening for a short story; but for the larger canvas of a novel, I would counsel the author to take his time–a couple of paragraphs of dialogue and action–to let the readers experience some component of his piss poor day.
I’m a little late to this conversation but the main thing that threw me off right from the get go was the name of the character. Frankie Boyle (B, not D, I realize) is a very successful Scottish comedian with books, tours, and at one point a show. So I immediately began wondering if Frankie Doyle was based on him…but it probably isn’t.
That said, I really enjoyed the voice — it’s edgy and snappy and that got my attention. I would have kept reading the page in the bookstore.