Fall First Hop Critique 3
I'll give a shot at some first page comments. Keep in mind that feedback on a first page is subjective by nature. What does and does not catch the eye is going to vary by person. Each writer must weigh the comments they get against their own judgement and make the changes that resonate with them.
Anyone with a finished or unfinished manuscript is welcome to join until November 14th. Go here to join.Random number generator picks 17!
Here is the first page without comments:Genre: YA Science Fiction (historical-type setting)
My rope arced up through the moonlit night and slid down the wooden fence. Again. Damn.
The sound of panting echoed through the empty yard beyond the eight-foot fence—the blacksmith's dog must have heard me. I coiled the rope and tossed it a third time. Finally, it caught the top of the post. I yanked it several times to test the strength, then braced my feet against the planks and scrambled up.
At the top, the points of the planks dug into my torso as I twisted the rope around so it would fall into the yard and provide me an escape route. The big, black mutt stood silently at the bottom, gazing up at me, sniffing for the treat I'd brought him. Or smelling me. By now, we were old friends. He hadn't barked at me in weeks.
I held onto the top of the fence and dangled my legs into the yard, wood scraping my hands as I fell onto my backside. When I stood, I wiped my palms on my thighs. Barely a scratch, no big deal.
The dog whined softly, and I pulled my ration of meat for this week out of my pocket. My mouth watered, but I tossed it to the dog. A small price for a glimpse of freedom. The chicken wing and breast disappeared in seconds.
The fence cast deep shadows where I stood, so I moved out into the yard, straining to glimpse silver or black in the sand.
And with my crazy comments:
Genre: YA Science Fiction (historical-type setting) (Not sure what a historical type setting would be for science fiction.)
My rope arced up through the moonlit night and slid down the wooden fence to land at my feet?. Again. Damn. (like how they experience failure right off the bat.)
The sound of panting echoed through from the empty yard beyond the eight-foot fence—the blacksmith's dog must have heard me. I coiled the rope and tossed it a third time. Finally, Luck.(or something voicy.) It caught the top of the post. I yanked it several times to test the strength, then braced my feet against the planks and scrambled up.
At the top, the points of the planks (slats instead of planks?) dug into my torso as I twisted the rope around so it would fall into the yard and provide me an escape route. The big, (Many times commas aren't put between an adjective and a color anymore. My test is can you reverse the order of the adjectives and it still makes sense/sounds right. If you can't reverse them, then no comma.) black mutt stood silently at the bottom, gazing gazed (silent can be implied) up at me, sniffing for the treat I'd brought him. Or smelling (scenting?) me. By now, we were old friends. He hadn't barked at me in weeks.
I held onto the top of the fence and dangled my legs into the yard, wood scraping my hands as I fell onto my backside. When I stood, I wiped wiping my palms on my thighs. Barely a scratch, no big deal.
The dog whined softly, and I pulled my ration of meat for this week out of from my pocket. (If that's all they get for a week, what do they give the dog the rest of the time. Or are the visits only weekly? Just idle thoughts.) My mouth watered, but I tossed it to the dog. A small price for a glimpse of freedom. The chicken wing and breast disappeared in seconds. (Their life must not be so bad if they get chicken.)
The fence cast deep shadows where I stood, so I moved out into the yard, straining to glimpse silver or black in the sand. (feels awkward. ) The fence cast deep shadows, forcing me to move out into the yard to glimpse silver or black in the sand.
Pretty strong entry that does raise curiosity.I felt like there should be another word after 'silver or black.' There's a fine line between making someone curious and leaving someone too much in the dark. And to me, it needed more explanation at that point. Silver and black what?Also I'm wondering about the science fiction. I'm guessing that's why the addition to the genre, because there's nothing futuristic about this page. I'm assuming it's in the query which makes it not a problem.
Anyone with a finished or unfinished manuscript is welcome to join until November 14th. Go here to join.Random number generator picks 17!
Here is the first page without comments:Genre: YA Science Fiction (historical-type setting)
My rope arced up through the moonlit night and slid down the wooden fence. Again. Damn.
The sound of panting echoed through the empty yard beyond the eight-foot fence—the blacksmith's dog must have heard me. I coiled the rope and tossed it a third time. Finally, it caught the top of the post. I yanked it several times to test the strength, then braced my feet against the planks and scrambled up.
At the top, the points of the planks dug into my torso as I twisted the rope around so it would fall into the yard and provide me an escape route. The big, black mutt stood silently at the bottom, gazing up at me, sniffing for the treat I'd brought him. Or smelling me. By now, we were old friends. He hadn't barked at me in weeks.
I held onto the top of the fence and dangled my legs into the yard, wood scraping my hands as I fell onto my backside. When I stood, I wiped my palms on my thighs. Barely a scratch, no big deal.
The dog whined softly, and I pulled my ration of meat for this week out of my pocket. My mouth watered, but I tossed it to the dog. A small price for a glimpse of freedom. The chicken wing and breast disappeared in seconds.
The fence cast deep shadows where I stood, so I moved out into the yard, straining to glimpse silver or black in the sand.
And with my crazy comments:
Genre: YA Science Fiction (historical-type setting) (Not sure what a historical type setting would be for science fiction.)
My rope arced up through the moonlit night and slid down the wooden fence to land at my feet?. Again. Damn. (like how they experience failure right off the bat.)
The sound of panting echoed through from the empty yard beyond the eight-foot fence—the blacksmith's dog must have heard me. I coiled the rope and tossed it a third time. Finally, Luck.(or something voicy.) It caught the top of the post. I yanked it several times to test the strength, then braced my feet against the planks and scrambled up.
At the top, the points of the planks (slats instead of planks?) dug into my torso as I twisted the rope around so it would fall into the yard and provide me an escape route. The big, (Many times commas aren't put between an adjective and a color anymore. My test is can you reverse the order of the adjectives and it still makes sense/sounds right. If you can't reverse them, then no comma.) black mutt stood silently at the bottom, gazing gazed (silent can be implied) up at me, sniffing for the treat I'd brought him. Or smelling (scenting?) me. By now, we were old friends. He hadn't barked at me in weeks.
I held onto the top of the fence and dangled my legs into the yard, wood scraping my hands as I fell onto my backside. When I stood, I wiped wiping my palms on my thighs. Barely a scratch, no big deal.
The dog whined softly, and I pulled my ration of meat for this week out of from my pocket. (If that's all they get for a week, what do they give the dog the rest of the time. Or are the visits only weekly? Just idle thoughts.) My mouth watered, but I tossed it to the dog. A small price for a glimpse of freedom. The chicken wing and breast disappeared in seconds. (Their life must not be so bad if they get chicken.)
The fence cast deep shadows where I stood, so I moved out into the yard, straining to glimpse silver or black in the sand. (feels awkward. ) The fence cast deep shadows, forcing me to move out into the yard to glimpse silver or black in the sand.
Pretty strong entry that does raise curiosity.I felt like there should be another word after 'silver or black.' There's a fine line between making someone curious and leaving someone too much in the dark. And to me, it needed more explanation at that point. Silver and black what?Also I'm wondering about the science fiction. I'm guessing that's why the addition to the genre, because there's nothing futuristic about this page. I'm assuming it's in the query which makes it not a problem.
No comments have been added yet.
