“When vultures surround you, try not to die.” — African proverb
By PJ Parrish
Hey, it’s good to be back at The Kill Zone. It’s good to be anywhere. (Apologies to Keith Richards). Holidays and a bout with RSV behind me, I’m ready to get going again. The fact that my Lions beat the NFC norsemen for the No. 1 seed has me doing a happy-dance. Just wish my dad Al were around to have seen it since he almost put his foot through the Zenith after a particularly brutal season back in 1959.
Today, I have the pleasure of critiquing a nice entry in our First Pagers. I took a liking to it when it first popped up on my radar. Maybe because it involves a mysterious priest and I loved the papal thriller Conclave. Best line of dialogue, delivered by a cardinal played by Stanley Tucci: “I could never become Pope on those circumstances. A stolen document, the smearing of a brother cardinal. I’d be the Richard Nixon of Popes.”
Our writer calls their submission a “psychological thriller with supernatural undertones.” Title: Campus of Shadows. (more on that at end). Here we go:
CHAPTER 1
My new apartment complex is painted yellow with black trim and has a scrawny hedge bordering the single-story structure. As I climb out of the car my nose shudders at the scent of something dead in the air. I glance around expecting to see a dead possum or a bird that flew into a window but find nothing. The tune, Bad Guy, blasts from the apartment’s inner courtyard. I can’t wait to get in there and check it out. I hesitate with my thumb on the lock button wondering how hard college classes will be, if I’ll be able to take it all in stride.
A constant ticking draws my attention to a vulture in a gnarled oak with branches twisted so low they could trip someone up. The vulture is the reason for the stench. It must have the remains of something stuck in its talons. A strange curiosity draws me closer like a rubbernecker on the highway and I spot a shadow hovering around it, a miniature cloud.
Maybe some fool around here feeds it. Spinning away, I discover a priest walking toward me from the courtyard of the apartment. His gait and his toothy smile are familiar. “Father Aether?”
“David Everest, how are you?”
“I didn’t expect you to be the first person I saw when I got to college,” I laugh, extending my hand.
“It’s been a long time.” His outstretched hand and mine connect.
“Oh,” he tugs his hand away. “I got a shock.”
“Sorry, I must have created static electricity when I slid out of the car. Didn’t you get transferred to Miami, Father?”
“I did. I was here for a… meeting. A soul freeing of sorts.” A bead of sweat trembles on his jawline. “Anyway, I have a friend whose daughter left something at home in Miami last week. I dropped it off for her.”
“That was nice of you.”
A gust of wind howls through the courtyard entrance blasting me in the face and tearing at his vestments. He shivers and backs away. “I need to go. Bless you, my son.”
As Father Aether hurries off, I’m glad he didn’t ask too many questions. I’ve hardly been to church since he did my first communion. The ticking sound starts again. The vulture is staring at me with a weird look like it’s waiting for something. “Get out of here you dumb scavenger.”
_____________________________
Let’s start with what I liked. There’s a nicely developed (if a tad undercooked) sense of tension right from the start. The main character is entering a new life and environment (college) and immediately interacts with a somewhat mysterious priest from his past. There are some atmospheric descriptive details — a hot gusty wind, gnarly oaks, and the shock-handshake is a nice touch. And then there’s that lurking vulture. (symbolism alert!)
Though written in first-person, the writer deftly handles the insertion of the protag’s name via the simple device of introduction with the priest. I pay attention to this sort of thing because too many folks writing in first person forget to identify their protag until too late in the chapter.
So, I’d call this a good start of a first draft. But it can use some beefing up here and there.
First, the opening line is very weak. My new apartment complex is painted yellow with black trim and has a scrawny hedge bordering the single-story structure. Unless this apartment is in a decrepit Victorian, a New Orleans whore house, or a remodeled abandoned Catholic church (oooh, I like that!), who cares what it looks like? Never waste your first line on something meaningless. Unless the description directly supports your mood, atmosphere or foretells something about character or plot, get rid of it.
Consider something like this as your opening, dear reader:
The smell hit me as soon as I got out of my car. Foul, like rotting meat, or that sweet-sewage stench that I had smelled as a kid when I had wandered into the basement lab of my father’s mortuary.
I heard a loud hiss and looked up. A huge black bird with a bald red head was perched on the lowest branch of the oak tree. It was so close I could see its black-bead eye. A turkey vulture. But what the hell was it doing here on campus? We were at least ten miles from any landfill or scrub land.
I know about turkey vultures since I used to live in South Florida. They are butt-ugly, creepy and they make this nasty hissing noise if you get close. They hang out along remote highways, or near the Everglades, maybe on farms. Never in urban areas. So for this charcter to see one here MEANS something is wrong. USE THIS!
The vulture is not supposed to be here. So make that foul smell work harder as a symbol of a rift in the norm.
An aside: Don’t know if you realize this, writer, but vultures have quite a role in Christian lore. They are considered a symbol of God’s judgment of shame, or a diseased spiritual condition. In Revelation 18:2, Babylon is described as being “a dwelling place of demons, a prison for every foul spirit, and a cage for every unclean and hated bird.”
Something to explore maybe: Birds are powerful symbols in all religions. In Hinduism and Judaism, they are even linked to exorcisms. Christianity is rife with bird symbols, good and evil.
Let’s talk about the sense of smell. It’s the single most powerful one in your writer’s toolbox. I’d like to see the writer exploit this more. And if you can, relate the smell — always — to something directly in the character’s experience. I made up the bit about dad being an undertaker. But see what it does? It personalizes the smell AND slips in a grace note of backstory.
Makes your descriptions work harder.
Other things: I’m not a big fan of persent tense first person. But that’s just my taste. What do you all think? I think it gets a little tiresome for most readers over the course of 300 pages or so.
I surmise that we are in South Florida here, given the turkey vulture and the reference to Miami. But is there some way you can gracefully let us know exactly where we are? Can you slip in where he’s going to college? Is there an UM ibis flag in an apartment window?
And let’s talk about the song “Bad Guy.” I don’t mind songs being tossed into scenes (unless it’s Coltrane blaring on the CD player while the dissipated PI drinks himself into a coma-funk — cliche!). Being an old fart, I had to look up “Bad Guy.” It’s by Billie Ellish and it’s about guys who put up a fake tough-guy front. I like that. But only if it means something about your plot or character. Otherwise, it’s just a gratuitous toss-in culture reference. Of course you can’t reprint lyrics in your book, but maybe, as your character goes into his apartment moments later, the song keeps bouncing around in his head — for some reason! Again, like the vulture — you felt compelled to put it there so make it mean something.
That’s it. Like I said, a good start. But look for places to go deeper, to give meaning to the bread-crumb symbols you are planting. But so far, pretty darn good.
Let’s do a quick, light line edit. My comments in red.
Campus Of Shadows Work harder to find a better title. “Campus” is such a blah geographic signpost word. We KNOW this takes place at a college. Ditto “Shadows” is dime-a-dozen title word in crime fiction, like “death” “darkness” “evil”. You can do better. Finish your book. The real title might reveal itself as you move on.
My new apartment complex is painted yellow with black trim and has a scrawny hedge bordering the single-story structure. As I climb out of the car you backed into the image here. Starting a book with “As I did…” is throat-clearing and passive. Be active: The smell hit me as soon as I… Can you imagine starting a fight scene like this: “As my heart raced, the bullet whizzed by my head.” No, you can’t. my nose shudders at the scent of something dead in the air. I glance around expecting to see a dead possum or a bird that flew into a window but find nothing. I looked up. Then stay with the vulture The tune, Bad Guy, blasts from the apartment’s inner courtyard. I can’t wait to get in there and check it out. I hesitate with my thumb on the lock button wondering how hard college classes will be, if I’ll be able to take it all in stride. Put this down below, after the priest leaves. His feelings about going to college are out of place here and leech out the tension.
A constant ticking souds like a branch against a window or a clock. Vultures hiss. draws my attention to a vulture in a gnarled oak with low twisting branches twisted so low they could trip someone up. The vulture is the reason for the stench. It must have the remains of something stuck in its talons. A strange curiosity draws me closer like a rubbernecker on the highway cliche and I spot a shadow hovering around it, a miniature cloud. Not sure I understand what you’re going for here. Be clearer.
Maybe some fool around here feeds it. Spinning away, implies fright. He’s scared? I discover see a priest walking toward me from out of the courtyard of the apartment. His gait and his toothy smile are familiar. “Father Aether?”
There is a very gusty wind, you say. So use it. How about something more mysterious: I see a figure coming out of the courtward, head bent against the hard dry wind. He’s dressed in black robes, flapping around him like wings. (bird imagery!) As he nears, I see his white collar.
“Father Aether?”
He stops. “David Everest, how are you?” NICE WAY TO GET THE NAMES IN
“I didn’t expect you to be the first person I saw when I got to college,” I laugh, extending my hand.
“It’s been a long time.” His outstretched hand and mine connect.
“Oh,” he tugs his hand away. “I got a shock.”
“Sorry, I must have created static electricity when I slid out of the car. Didn’t you get transferred to Miami, Father?”
“I did. I was here I’ve been here in Palm Beach or whatever for a… meeting. A soul freeing of sorts.” Exorcism? A bead of sweat trembles on his jawline. “Anyway, I have a friend whose daughter left something at home in Miami last week. I dropped it off for her.”
“That was nice of you.”
A gust of wind howls through the courtyard entrance blasting me in the face and tearing at his vestments. He shivers David is starting school somewhere in South Florida in August or September, the hottest months of the year. Shivers? and backs away.
New graph “I need to go. Bless you, my son.” This seems unnaturally abrupt. Did you intend this? If so, it needs something, a gesture perhaps, to predicate it. He glanced back at the courtyard, his eyes lingering on the second floor. He shivered, despite the heat. Or something better.
As Father Aether hurries off, there’s that “as” construction again. We all have our tics! I’m glad he didn’t ask too many questions. He didn’t ask ANY. I’ve hardly been to church since he did my first communion. The ticking sound hissing starts again. The vulture is staring at me with a weird look like it’s waiting for something. A little too spot-on. Of course they stare — they’re looking for carrion.
need new graph. “Get out of here you dumb scavenger.” Can you think of a juicier line or action? What is going to happen next? I assume he goes up to his new apartment? What can happen with the symbolic vulture that TRANSITIONS to what comes next? I can’t suggest cuz I don’t know your plot. But his dialogue line feels flaccid.
So, that’s it from me. I’m sure our TKZ folks will have other helpful insights. Thanks for submitting, dear writer. Keep moving forward. Happy and healthy new year.
Good first page submission and I agree with the suggestions for improvement. I will add one side note: I was totally thrown off by use of the word “ticking” in relationship to the vulture. I couldn’t compute how ticking would be associated with a vulture. I guess because when I think of the word ‘ticking’ I’m thinking in relation to mechanical things like a clock or a bomb. But that may just be me. Thanks for submitting!
My thoughts exactly, BK. Which just makes a good point: Sometimes the smallest things can throw a reader out of the world the writer is trying to create. This is the main dichotomy of fiction: We, the writers, see things clearly in our heads, a movie unreeling in our imaginations. But transfering that to the page, so the reader goes easily along for our ride — aye, there’s the rub.
Thanks for sharing your first page, Brave Writer. It drew me in! I agree with PJ’s excellent critique. As far as the first-person, present tense goes, it does tire me for an adult novel, but I think it works well in YA stories or NA stories. If David and other main characters are college students, and you feel comfortable writing in 1st POV present tense, I’d say stick with it.
Vultures do stink, but I think they’re interesting, cool birds. I don’t recall them ticking, though. Their huge claws click on hard surfaces. Maybe the vulture’s feet click on the tree bark as he shuffles?
Good luck with the rest of the story!
I remember doing a hike down in Ding Darling nature preserve once on Sanibel Island. I was alone and it was getting onto dusk. Stupid, because the gators come out at dusk to eat. There were signs even to warn idiots like me. I heard some weird noises, kind of like a hiss, and stopped cold. It was “only” three turkey vultures ahead on the path, eating something. I crept past and ran. Yuck.
First person works well in romances. I’ve never tried to write an entire novel in first person. But great critique! I learned a lot from reading it
I did one stand alone thriller in first person once. Chose it because the story was extremely personal to the non-cop protag. But man, it wasn’t easy because he had to be compelling enough to carry every scene AND every single detail had to be filtered thru his senses. I learned a lot from that book.
Thanks, BA, for your submission. And thanks to Kris for the critique.
“My new apartment complex is painted yellow with black trim …” I wasn’t sure if the apartment complex was new or just new to the author, but I thought the line might work if it was used to locate the reader. Maybe “a garish yellow and black building, evidence of the landlord’s over-eager support of the University of Central Alabama.”
I especially liked the electric shock when they shook hands.
Great submission, BA! And great critique, too! Always a learning curve for me.
I especially like the imagery of the priest and the vulture. Flapping wings, flapping robes…and it seems both the priest and the vulture have secrets. Great start for a suspense/thriller novel in my book. (Sorry, couldn’t help that.) 🙂
Have a great day!
Great advice, as always, Kris.
As for the person/tense thing. I don’t like it at all. There are only a couple of authors who do it well enough to keep me engaged. To me, it reads as though there’s someone watching things unfold from above, and telling the reader what’s happening. It’s supposed to make things more intimate, but it pulls me away, and I have to regroup every time I come back to the book.
My feeling as well, Terry. Present tense, to me, feels distancing. It’s like holding the reader at arm’s length. I know it’s popular in YA and seems to be a thing in literary fiction right now. I don’t get it. But as I said, it’s a matter of taste.