Let’s welcome another Brave Author who submitted a first page for review and critique. Please read through this submission, Filthy Money, and I’ll see you on the other side.
Filthy Money
It’s effortless, like a gliding albatross.
A shaft of sun bounces off the silver leading edge of the Cessna’s wing. I blink and glance down at the instrument panel. Only seven minutes, thirty nautical miles to the island. I scan the horizon.
And there it is.
Santa Catarina.
A dark iris surrounded by the tranquil cerulean blue waters of the Indian Ocean.
The runway, a bleached grey stripe, cuts through the sickle-shaped piece of land. It’ll have deteriorated. It’s been twenty years since this runway, once a carpet-smooth welcome to the wealthy and famed, was abandoned.
The question is how badly has it deteriorated?
I can see pockets sea grass in the still shallow waters. The dune bush barely ripples. I dip slow and low over the runway to check the condition of the surface.
I peer down. It’s a crumbling ribbon. The tar has cracked and burst in the searing sun. The hairs on my nape and arms lift.
Tall yellow weeds droop at the outer edges.
A second loop confirms my fears.
It’s not safe to land. Only an idiot would try. I’ve got to think of the safety of the five passengers sitting cocooned in luxury behind me. Never mind the likely damage to the state-of-the-art jet I am piloting.
Vonn will not take this news well. Not after all the months of strategy meetings and preparations. I wipe my clammy hand on my trousers.
‘Mr Le Clezio?’ At first, he doesn’t hear me. My voice is reluctant. I clear my throat and call again.
He acknowledges me with a nod of his head, then swallows the half inch of Wild Turkey in the tumbler and turns to Butch. ‘Drink up, we’re about to land.’ He slips the now half empty bottle into the side pocket of his holdall.
‘Mr Le Clezio, I’m sorry. It’s not safe to land. The runway’s in a far worse state than we were advised.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, José.’ He spits the words at me.
In my peripheral vision, I’m aware of Butch turning to face me. Judging, watching. He’s the only investor invited to join Vonn in this first recce. Embarrassing Vonn is not an option. Sweat pricks in my hairline.
‘I thought this bloody fancy jet was designed to land on rough terrain?’
‘It is, but —’
‘Well, land it. That’s what I pay you for.’
* * *
First Impression: Right away, the first sentence caught my attention by juxtaposing the serenity of gliding with the foreboding of the word “albatross.” Nice. And anytime a scene begins with people in an airplane, you know there’s going to be trouble.
The setting: The author did an excellent job of setting up the environment without going into too much detail. “A dark iris surrounded by the tranquil cerulean blue waters of the Indian Ocean.” We know where we are geographically.
Pace: Each sentence drew me to the next one. The contrast between the beauty of the island and the impending danger is well done.
Stakes: In just a few paragraphs, we learn the problem. We can feel the pilot’s angst, and we know even before he turns to call to Mr. Moneybags that things are going to escalate quickly. James Scott Bell wrote in a recent TKZ post, “Unless the conflict is a life-and-death struggle, the plot will not engage as it should.” This plot clearly avoids that problem.
POV: I also like the use of first person, present tense. It gives a sense of immediacy that works well here. (There were several comments about writing in first person, present tense on John Gilstrap’s TKZ post last week, so I’ll be interested to see what others think of this.)
* * *
There were a few areas I thought needed some work:
The Title: I don’t particularly care for Filthy Money as the title. “Filthy” isn’t one of my favorite words, but I don’t have an alternative since I don’t know the entire story. Maybe some commenters can chime in and make a suggestion.
Grammar: I spotted a couple of small issues in one sentence and I show the corrections here:
I can see pockets of sea grass in the still, shallow waters.
Other Issues:
“A shaft of sun bounces off the silver leading edge of the Cessna’s wing.” When I initially read this, I assumed the Cessna was the kind I flew: a single-engine, propeller-driven, four-seater. To avoid that misunderstanding, add the specific model (e.g., Cessna Citation).
“He’s the only investor invited to join Vonn in this first recce.” I had to look up the word “recce.” The Cambridge Dictionary defines it as “the process of visiting and quickly looking around a place in order to find out information about it.” Maybe readers of thrillers would know this, but I didn’t. If it isn’t common knowledge to the intended audience, replace it.
“The runway, a bleached grey stripe, cuts through the sickle-shaped piece of land.” The island was originally described as an “iris,” which I assume is round.
British vs. American spelling and punctuation. The use of the word “grey” rather than “gray” in the snippet above and the use of single quotes rather than double quotes to enclose dialogue throughout the piece indicate the author is British. If the intended audience is largely American, it would be wise to change to the American standard. (i.e., “gray” and double quotes for dialogue.)
Those were the only real issues I found. However, I think the prose could be tightened up a bit. I noticed the words “deteriorated” and “runway” were used more than once in close proximity. I’ve taken the liberty to make suggestions below. A few of the suggestions rely on my own sense of cadence. Deletions are in blue, changes and additions are in red. My comments are in green.
* * *
It’s effortless, like a gliding albatross.
A shaft of sun bounces off the silver leading edge of the Cessna Citation’s wing. I blink and glance down at the instrument panel. Only Seven minutes to go. Just thirty nautical miles to the island. I scan the horizon. [Good short sentences set the pace. I changed a couple of words around.]
And there it is. Santa Catarina. A dark green iris surrounded by the tranquil cerulean blue waters of the Indian Ocean.
The runway, a bleached grey stripe, cuts through the sickle-shaped piece of land. It’ll have deteriorated. It’s been in the twenty years since this airstrip runway, once a carpet-smooth welcome to the wealthy and famed, was abandoned. [Rewrote two sentences into one and changed the second use of “runway” to “airstrip.”]
The question is how badly has it deteriorated? how bad is it? [No need to repeat “deteriorated.”]
I can see pockets of sea grass in the still, shallow waters. The dune bush barely ripples. I dip slow and low over the runway to check the condition of the surface.
I peer down. It’s a crumbling ribbon. Tall yellow weeds droop at the outer edges. The tar has cracked and burst in the searing sun. The hairs on my nape and arms lift.
Tall yellow weeds droop at the outer edges. [Moved this sentence up for effect.]
A second loop confirms my fears.
It’s not safe to land. Only an idiot would try to land on that corroded strip of disintegrating asphalt. [Strengthened the danger.] I’ve got to think of the safety of the five passengers sitting cocooned in luxury behind me. Never mind the likely damage to the state-of-the-art jet I am piloting.
Vonn will not take this news well. Not after all the months of strategy meetings and preparations. I wipe my clammy hand on my trousers.
‘Mr Le Clezio?’ At first, he doesn’t hear me. My voice is reluctant. I clear my throat and call again.
He acknowledges me with a nod of his head, then swallows the half inch of Wild Turkey in the tumbler and turns to Butch. ‘Drink up, we’re about to land.’ He slips the now half empty bottle into the side pocket of his holdall.
‘Mr Le Clezio, I’m sorry. It’s not safe to land. The runway’s in a far worse state than we were advised.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, José.’ He spits the words at me.
In my peripheral vision, I’m aware of I see Butch turning to face me. Judging, watching. He’s the only investor invited to join Vonn in this first recce. Embarrassing Vonn is not an option. Sweat pricks in my hairline.
‘I thought this bloody fancy jet was designed to land on rough terrain?.’
‘It is, but —’
‘Well, land it. That’s what I pay you for.’
* * *
Lasting Impression: Fine job, Brave Author. I’d turn the page. Now let’s see what everyone else thinks.
TKZers: What’s your impression of this first page? Would you keep reading? Please offer your comments and suggestions.
A thorough critique of a fairly competent piece, Kay. Nice work all around. I’ll maunder a bit, trying to find the cracks.
Yes, the title is not optimum. I like the “money” part; that’s a power word. Filthy isn’t. But it needs a complete rework. I’m thinking “Evil Crescent,” or “Island of Evil,” but I’m not sure the island will be the only scene of the novel.
The opening, “It’s effortless, like a gliding albatross,” doesn’t resonate. What is effortless? The use of many short paragraphs is a little iffy. Irises are not dark; pupils are dark. “Cerulean blue” is redundant, or just wrong, unless the ocean ‘iris’ is sky blue, the meaning of cerulean.
(I’m not sure runways of that age in the Indian Ocean would be asphalt or concrete. They would not be “tar,” and some materials would have been brought in by boat. The cheapest construction would be unreinforced concrete: cement mixed with native sand. Sea water can be used for the mix, with some caveats. Yes, the slabs will crack like a sidewalk, unless reinforced, but should be okay to land on.
I’d strike the yellow weeds unless they’re germane to the story. Like if they have to eat them, later.
But who is the Vonn who “will not take this news well?” And surely months of strategy meetings and preparations should have included an attempt to get drawings of the existing strip or a quick reconnoiter (recce) visit by boat or by bush plane. The Citation is a $5 million and up plane, not something to risk on unknown pavement, as José says.
But if it must land, the high-mounted engines should be okay, and the landing may be as (un)successful as the author wishes. Taking off again is another matter. Take-off requires a lot more runway than landing, roughly 3000 to 5000 feet, depending on the model. (I’m thinking “Jet of Fools” for the new title.)
A page-turner, for sure. But this intro is so short, it could be a flash-forward-to-action prologue.
Thank you, JGuenther, for your insights. I’ll be curious to see if BA changes the title and what title he/she comes up with.
One of the great things about first page critiques is seeing how different readers respond. For example, I loved the first line because of the “gliding albatross.” It made me want to read on to see what the author was talking about.
Since first page critiques are limited to 400 words, the author has a challenge to submit a fully developed scene. I suspect this author condensed things in order to get us to the all-important “Well, land it. That’s what I pay you for.”
This is a compelling first page. In some ways, it’s harder to critique good writing than flawed work b/c the weaknesses are small and subtle. Kay did an excellent job of finding a few nits to pick, like specifying the plane model, the inconsistency between a round iris and a crescent-shaped island, and tightening a few sentences.
I don’t usually care for present tense but it works well here, giving a sense of immediacy and urgency.
One small rearrangement of a sentence: It’s been twenty years since this runway, once a carpet-smooth welcome to the wealthy and famed, was abandoned.
How about: Once a carpet-smooth airstrip welcoming the wealthy and famed, it had been abandoned for twenty years and will have deteriorated.
I’d turn the page. Good job, Brave Author!
Thanks, Debbie. I agree the overall tone of this piece is compelling. Despite the couple of small speed bumps, it flowed well. When I finished reading it, I wanted to know what was going to happen next, and that’s the key to a good first page.
I like the way you re-wrote the sentence. It’s a lot of information to get in a few words.
I would definitely be drawn in enough to read the next page. Below are a few thoughts/reactions to the piece. Keep in mind, I do not typically read first person books so perhaps some of my suggestions may be irrelevant:
Opening sentence: “It’s effortless like a gliding albatross.” This opening sentence was so vague that it stopped me immediately in my read, trying to figure out what was effortless. After reading the second paragraph, I thought IT should be opening line.
Minor speed bump–at first I thought Catarina was a typo but after looking it up realized it was a real place. No biggie.
Here was my question with regard to 1st person: For narrative, are the 2 paragraphs about “A dark iris…” and “The runway, a bleached…” actually how they would be reflected in 1st person or would it be choppier, consistent with most people’s thoughts? If I were writing myself in first person, doing observation, I would not think such thorough, sentences.
Likewise, “The question is how badly…” also didn’t seem 1st person-y.
I confess the albatross reference sailed right over my head, because to me, the tension in the scene didn’t start until “The hairs on my nape and arms lift.” and I was wondering why? Up to that time it seemed a calm casual flight. And not being a pilot, being told earlier that a runway had deteriorated doesn’t necessarily inform me that it’s going to be a tough go.
Because the tension didn’t start for me until “The hairs on my nape…” in my mind I deleted “Tall yellow weeds” as unnecessary, especially since the tension is just starting here, and go right to “A second loop confirms my fears.”
I was thrown out of the story temporarily to go look up ‘recce’ as well. No big deal, I like to learn new things. But it does pause the reader momentarily.
Thanks for submitting. An interesting read.
Good morning, BK.
It’s always interesting to see how different readers react to a submission. As I mentioned in my comments, I loved the first line. Maybe BA can combine our reactions with something like, “The Cessna Citation slips through the air effortlessly, like a gliding albatross.”
Thanks for your comments. Lots of good information for BA to consider.
This was a good submission, one that I enjoyed. Your suggestions, Kay, are spot on. I wondered though if the iris mentioned was a flower? That was my first impression. Anyway, I would definitely read on…and SUPRISINGLY, the 1st person, present tense didn’t bother me…I got caught up in the story and didn’t notice and had to go back when I saw your reference. lol
Good morning, Patricia!
Like you, I read through the submission without thinking of person or tense. It was only after I had finished and went deeper that I noticed it was first person, present tense.
As others have noted in previous posts, this is hard to carry off well, but I think BA managed it nicely.
Have a great week!
Good critique, Kay.
Why is albatross a foreboding word? It’s a seabird. Like J mentioned above, “it” is a meaningless word. Anon, replace it with Cessna (plus model). I was also confused when you referred to the Cessna as a “jet” with five passengers in the back. Strangely, I’m writing a scene in a Cessna 206 (four seats behind the pilot and co-pilot). Also, anytime you used telling words like “see” you slip out of deep POV. Better to just describe what the MC is seeing.
For example…
This: I can see pockets of sea grass in the still, shallow waters.
Becomes this: Sea grass dotted the still, shallow water below.
Or: Sea grass pocketed the still, shallow water below.
Best of luck, Brave Writer!
Good morning, Sue, and thanks for your great additions!
The word “albatross” took on an ominous meaning in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Coleridge. The term “albatross around my neck” refers to that poem, and it’s not a good thing. Now that you mention it, though, I wonder if my interpretation was what the author intended.
Oh! I had no idea. Thanks for the clarification, Kay!
I was drawn in by this first page. I did not get the albatross reference Kay made until I googled it and remembered the old phrase ‘albatross hung around the neck,’ which does add micro-tension.
I’m ignorant about private planes. I recognize Cessna but do not know the distinctions between models. Sue’s phrasing above, giving number of seats would give me the right image, but I may not be the intended reader.
The iris image works as Indigenous people can have dark eyes with no distinction between pupil and iris.
Thank you, Kay, for this helpful critique. And thank you, Brave Writer, for sharing. It’s a great start.
Thanks for your comments, Lisa. You mentioned, “I was drawn in by this first page.” That’s exactly the response I had.
There are lots of people who wouldn’t know specific info about airplanes, so maybe the BA can find a way to specify that it’s a small jet in the first sentence or two.
Have a great week!
I still think the iris refers to the flower, especially with the reference to the sickle-shaped piece of land. 😉
Bravo, Brave Author, and hats off to Kay for an insightful critique. I liked this opening a lot, it hooked me from the start. The first person voice is compelling. As for the presence tense, I didn’t consciously notice it, which shows to this writer that it was working well. Kay’s thoughtful suggestions help tighten and further focus it. I would definitely read the next page.
Good morning, Dale, and thanks for your comments.
It’s interesting that several of us didn’t notice the first person, present tense while we were reading the piece. Evidence that it is a compelling read.
Have a great week.
Dear Brave Author, please stick to your guns and write in British English – how else are we to educate our American friends that the rest of the world exists? (Wink)
I liked your opening page a lot. Bravo! And I got most of the references – albatross etc. Though you could consider writing recce in full – reconnoitre – as that seems to be better understood by American readers.
I won’t offer anything in the way of edits, you have far better suggestions from the regulars here.
Good luck.
Hello Lynda! Love your advice to BA. We Americans owe our language to our British brothers and sisters, so feel free to wave the Union Jack, BA, and carry on. 🙂
Thanks for your comments.
There was nothing in the Britishisms to slow me down. ‘Recce’ is clearly based on reconnoiter, but there are other words that are more cryptic, and might be avoided in American markets. Or not. The differences are trivial.
Put me in the “not liking the albatross” column. It just set me the wrong way. I am a licensed pilot. My mind took me to a high wing Cessna prop plane – until the time to distance seemed way off. I am a detail person. They are approaching at around 250 kph. Pretty fast. Then the author clarifies to a Cessna Jet. There are no rough field general aviation jets. No one is putting a multi million dollar jet down on an unknown airstrip. Especially without knowing there was enough usable runway to get back out or knowing if they are going to have the fuel to get back out.
The cleaned up version Kay started with makes for a good story. Something I would pick up.
Oh, BA, The quick fix for the plane would be to switch to a King Air. Available in executive luxury AND can land on grass if so equipped.
Good afternoon, Alan. Thanks for your comments. I remembered you are also a pilot and hoped you would weigh in today. It’s so interesting to read the different reactions to the word “albatross.”
Good suggestion to switch to King Air. I assume whatever the make of the aircraft, it is going to land on that island. I wouldn’t want to be onboard!
I get that Mr Le Clezio is likely a heavy in this plot, but even an evil, greedy villain wouldn’t want to risk his OWN life with a dangerous landing. I’m not buying the “that’s what I pay you for” comic book bad guy.
However, I can’t help but be intrigued by why this rag tag bunch is flying to a remote, abandoned island. It sounds like exciting things are coming with this plot, I’d just like some work on the prose.
Hi Philip. Great analysis. However, maybe Mr. Le Clezio has had a little too much to drink. (I’ve been told that can impair your judgment. 🙂 )
If I were onboard, I’d suggest we return to the mainland and get a helicopter, but I don’t think that’s going to happen to this crew.