Janet’s Comments (group member since Oct 12, 2012)

Janet’s comments from the First Page of Your Book. group.

A Voracious Reader (a.k.a. Carol) wrote: "@Janet ~ The descriptions are tight and I'm intrigued. I'd keep reading..."

Okay, then I'll keep writing it. : )
Seriously, thank you Carol for the positive input.

I'm having a hard time keepimg up with commenting on new posts - which is exciting, but frustrating. I wish I had more time to spend in this thread so I could really get into every single post. There are some excellent writers posting here.

Cynthia wrote: "Sounds right up my ally of what I like to read. let me know when it is done! good luck
.."

I sure will. My goal is to have the first draft finished by the end of this month. Then (ugh!) editing will start. : )

Cynthia wrote: "Here is the first page to my book "The Witch Guardian".

Serena blessed the amulet before placing it around her baby’s soft
neck. Chelsea cooed softly as the cool metal touched her delicate
skin...."

I like it, Cynthia! I like it very much.

Cynthia wrote: "I love this opening. I can totally see the events happening, very colourful. You don't have much to edit. What is the rest of the story about? ..."

Alexis intends to remodel the old mansion and turn it into a writers' retreat, but at every turn there seem to be obstacles...a broken arm, freaky weather, unearthed bones, dead bodies, and a love-hate relationship with Logan, the master carpenter working on the property. Her marriage is in a mess and she doesn't even realize it. On top of all that, the people in the town seem to share a secret to which she, as the newcomer is not privy and there's a crazy old guy who rides around town on a rusty old bicycle scavenging for food and other items. Alexis doesn't know who to trust. Somebody is killing people and she finds herself a prime suspec simply because she's the stranger in town and things like this didn't happen before she arrived. I won't spoil the ending, but my readers who expect twisty ghost stories should not be disappointed.

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE REMEMBER THIS HAS NOT BEEN EDITED AND COULD CHANGE ENTIRELY WHEN THE FIRST DRAFT IS FINISHED AND I MOVE TO FIRST PASS EDITS!

Chapter One

“Storms make the oak grow deeper roots.” – George Herbert

A bluish-silver flash of energy shot upward directly in front of her. Potluck started yapping and backing away behind Alexis, who involuntarily jumped. Instinctively trying to keep her footing, her arms shot out, sending the box she was carrying skyward and tumbling, spewing the contents across the lawn and sending a roll of toilet paper spinning from the crest of the hill clear down to the street. Her effort to stay upright failed miserably and Alexis sat down hard on her tailbone, rolling backwards over her right shoulder in an incredibly ungraceful somersault that culminated in a hard bump of her head against an exposed root of the giant sycamore that dominated the property. The tree’s gnarled limbs stretched above her like the arms of a macabre skeleton pleading for heaven’s mercy.

Rubbing the goose-egg rising just above the nape of her neck, Alexis surveyed the damage and sneaked in a quick re-con glance. Thank goodness, it didn’t appear she had an audience cheering her spectacular debut in the historic little river town of Clarksville. The contents of her first-in box were strewn across the lawn and all over the narrow street at the bottom of the hill. She had managed in the first few seconds of residency to TP her own lawn, shatter the Mr. Coffee carafe and wrap part of her bed linens around a dogwood tree creating a ghostly vision of sheets flapping in the wind – not to mention the lovely grass stains now adorning the knees and backside of her holey, faded work jeans.

Cynthia wrote: "...now you see ghosts..."

LOL, well, now I write about ghosts. A lot. Most of my fiction work focuses on making people think about how thin the barrier is between the living and the dead.

Okay, maybe I'll get brave and post the ROUGH first page from my WIP novel.

Cynthia wrote: "Wow I really liked this first page. Really engaging right from the start. I like that it grabs my attention and I want to know what happens..."

Thanks, Cynthia. This first page "Brain Attack" is from my narrative nonfiction book, NORMAL, which relates the true story of my experiences surviving and recovering from a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. No superpowers resulted as far as I can tell, but there were some rather interesting experiences - such as the dissociative reaction I had wherein I saw my body as being separate from myself.

My current WIP is fiction and I would post the first page here, but it's so unpolished at this point in time I would be begging for criticism. LOL

First I get an idea for a character, then I imagine what's going on in that person's life. Then I just sit back and let the caracter and his/her friends and family tell me the story.

Sometimes I wish they didn't feel the need to wake me from a sound sleep to do that, but.....okay, tell me what's going on. : )

A Voracious Reader & RPSR wrote: "@Rustin ~ I loved your first page. It gripped me and now I want to know more. Much more. I have children of varying ages and your 15-yr-old sounds like mine, so I don't have a problem with your voi..."

Somehow I missed that Rustin's character is 15 years old. That puts things in an entirely different light.

A Voracious Reader & RPSR wrote: "@Janet ~ Wow. Just wow. I like the way your words flow and I definitely want to read more about what happened and how you made it through."

Thank you for your positive input on NORMAL. When I set about writing it, I had in mind a target audience of brain aneurysm patients and their loved ones. However, I've had a lot of feedback since the book published indicating it has a wider appeal than that, which is gratifying and rewarding since I also hope to generate public awareness and raise funds for patient support and research. The bulk of the proceeds from the book are being donated to The Brain Aneurysm Foundation for that purpose.

Natasha wrote: "Re. Lesbian Crushes and Bulimia: A Diary on How I Acquired my Eating Disorder Janet wrote: "I would suggest opening each chapter with several verbatim posts from your diary followed by narrative pa..."

I see now where you're going with your work and I do like the concept. I assume, then, that on subsequent pages the diary entries flesh out the story more? See, now I have to read the entire book. : )

Rustin wrote: "Thanks Kris. I appreciate your comments and I'm glad you liked my first page. I would love to get it professionally edited but unfortunately I don't have the money to do that. I have to do it myse..."

Rustin, I strongly encourage you to find someone with whom you can trade editing or barter editing for something else you have to offer. Like you, I did not have the money to hire a professional editor. However, I exchange content editing services with Chris DiGiuseppi, co-author of THE LIGHT BRINGER, and he gave me some wonderful insight that made my first book much better than the first draft. Then, he introduced me to a young woman, Nikole Behlmann, who is just starting to establish her career as a professional editor. She needed experience and references and I needed copyediting, so we struck a deal. My out-of- pocket expenses for editing were under $30 (I bought lunch!).

Think out of the box. Maybe somebody who works at your local library, your favorite high school English teacher, a journalism student, the editor of your local newspaper, or even an English major at a nearby college would be able to help you out. Mesage me privately if you can't come up with a feasible option.

I would hate to see you publish something that is less than the best you can make it.

Rustin wrote: "Hello, my name is Rustin. I found the link to this group on another page and thought it was really interesting. I really like getting feedback on my writing so I thought I would give it a try. T..."

Rustin, I absolutely love the your opening section. Brilliant! Extremely well done.

The rest of you first page also had me intrigued, although wearing my editor's hat, I would take a look at striking anything that the reader doesn't need to know this early in the story. Keep the writing tight and concise. (e.g., I would strike the sentence "Hell, maybe even reading a book. I’d been known to read a book or two." unless it's critical to the story development.) I think that leaves the impression that your narrator is older than you intend him to be. Having read the entire page, I got the impression that he's a contemporary of the missing 10-year old girl, which in my mind would put him in the range of 10-12 years old. The use of "hell" right off the bat gave me a sense he was a teenager.

Re-read the following paragraph for clarity. Is your narrator fantasizing about kissing the reporter or Vicki Campbell? I got it by the end of the paragraph, but a little re-wording seems in order. That bit of information, by the way, caused me to assume Tad to be closer to 12 years old, maybe a couple of years older than the missing girl.

Your description of the police chief is very vivid and well done. I especially liked the bit about his eyes seeming to "punch" at Tad.

Be careful to keep Tad's voice and actions age appropriate and specific. It's okay for him to be precocious, but you want him to remain believable.

Your first page certainly left me wanting to read more. Please consider having an independent editor take a look at the entire novella. From what I've seen here, it has great potential, but could use that final polish to make it exceptional.

Jill wrote: "Dangerous Shift by Jill James

Prologue

Fort San Laura Army Base
San Laura, California
May 2017

Sean Evans turned away as tears rolled down his ex-partner Colin Rodriguez’s face. The man sat by h..."

Generally speaking, I like your first page, but I believe you can strengthen it.

"The sound of boot heels echoed up and down the hospital corridor. All marched past the closed door, none brave enough to stop at this room." - If you opened the first paragraph with these sentences it would ramp up the tension by making your reader immediately anxious about what's going on in the room that those boot-wearing folks (whom I assume are police are military) are afraid to encounter.

Quite honestly, it took me a couple of passes to figure out the who's who of your characters in the opening paragraph. You give us two men's names in the first sentence and the information that they are former partners, then start the second sentence with
"The man sat by..." Which man? Partners in what? Are they combat buddies? Life partners? Oh, probably not the latter since the woman in the hospital bed is engaged to marry one of them.

Overall, your first page drew me in and made some promises about the book (always a strength in my opinion). You let me know that some deadly virus is rampant and that it changes it's victims into monsters, so I antiticpate a zombie story to follow.

However, this sentence stopped the flow for me: "The virus wreaked havoc on the young woman." It has the feel of cliche and, as a result, lowered my expectations from "woohooo..a zombie book" to "oh, another zombie story." Play with the wording and see if you can find a different, more gruesomely descriptive way to relate the nasty effects of the virus on the woman.

Natasha wrote: "From Lesbian Crushes and Bulimia: A Diary on How I Acquired my Eating Disorder by Natasha Holme:

Sunday 30th July 1989, Germany
Bought chocolate and a Wimpy at the station, sat around for ages lis..."

What Diane sugggests about adding descriptive information about your surroundings and background on your companions is certainly possible to incorporate into your diary format. I would suggest opening each chapter with several verbatim posts from your diary followed by narrative paragraphs that flesh out the story with the emotions they invoke for you now as you reflect on that part of your life.

The diary entries you share here chronicle the events of each day and the name the people with whom you shared your time. This does draw me, as a reader, into your story. However, to keep my interest as you move forward you would need to give me more insight into why you are sharing these events with the world.

Chapter 1 – Brain Attack

No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow. ~Euripides


A flaming sword slashed into my left temple. I thought, Wow! Where did that come from? If this pain doesn’t stop, I don’t know if I’ll be able to serve on a jury. As soon as I had completed the thought there was only blackness – no more thoughts, no feelings, just nothingness. My body jerked and writhed in grand mal seizures caused by blood flowing into the space between my skull and my brain as the result of a ruptured cerebral aneurysm.

Serendipity and synchronicity were at work that morning. The lady sitting next to me was a nurse. She immediately started caring for me and yelled, “Somebody call 9-1-1!”

It wasn’t the first miracle in my life. My congenital aneurysm could have ruptured on any given day. I had twice given birth, but the strain of labor and delivery hadn’t caused it to pop. The jolting car wreck I was in years before left my neck stiff and sore, but didn’t cause my brain to bleed. It was a miracle that I was summoned for jury duty that day because it meant I had to be in downtown St. Charles early in the morning. Afraid of being late for the court appearance I arrived quite early, so I was sitting on a bench instead of driving my car when the rupture occurred. If I’d been following my usual Monday routine, I would have been driving in traffic on Interstate 70. I might have caused a huge wreck, taking innocent lives in the process. I don’t think it was a coincidence that I was sitting at the courthouse just a few blocks away from St. Joseph’s Hospital when the rupture occurred. An invisible protector was watching over me. If I had to have a brain attack, I was certainly in a fortuitous place to have it.

There is no memory of the ambulance ride. Was it there or in the ER where I was assaulted by bright lights while medical professionals shared information about my condition in staccato bursts of medical-speak? Most of what I heard I could not grasp. The words “…get her stabilized,” invaded my awareness, prompting me to fight harder, trying to wake up. Then it was back to the blackness. For how long, I don’t know.

Somewhere in that void my brain managed another thought. It may have been a prayer or a bargain with God; I know you did not bless me with a grandbaby just to take my life. I know you want me to stay around to help raise her. My first grandchild had been born mid-June and I wasn’t ready to leave her behind just yet. As soon as the thought processed through my brain, I experienced ultimate bliss. All was right in the world. In that nanosecond of enlightenment I knew that the human spirit survives the death of the physical body and I understood that my wandering soul needed to get back into its earthly habitat. With the force of a downed fighter plane barreling into the earth, my mind, body and spirit reconnected with a startling and violent crash and I returned to the serene void that had become my safe haven.

Link to my Goodreads page for NORMAL: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16...