First Page of Your Book. discussion
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Thanks for all of the great posts everyone! I love the dialogue that is growing here.
Cheers!
Diane
Cheers!
Diane
@Diane ~ It wasn't technically 'flowery', but that's my term for anything that is too descriptive or has similes or metaphors. Even though I'm a Pisces and actually fairly creative and day dreamy what I look for in books is a point A to point B straight line. There wasn't anything wrong with what you wrote. It just wasn't what I like. I would have skipped over it. I like good dialogue (inside a character's head or external interaction) and lots of action. If that passage had been further in the book and not on the front page I might not have skipped it. But I would also read further before giving up. I pick up books and agree to review others based solely on the blurb. Not the cover, not the reviews, not the first page (I actually never read samples), not recs. The blurb has to grab me. I may read a book based on a friend's rec, but truly the blurb has to grab me. This is the first time I've read the first page of a book (books) and decided whether I want to continue or not.
Does that make sense? lol
A Voracious Reader & RPSR wrote: "@Horace ~ I like it. Your words do flow smoothly and since I love horses I'm going to pick it up at Smashwords. I grew up on a farm, too. Not a horse farm though. We raised mostly beef, but it shou..."
I wrote a bit in there about cattle. We used to raise about 10 Angus steers every year. I'll be interested to hear your thoughts.
I wrote a bit in there about cattle. We used to raise about 10 Angus steers every year. I'll be interested to hear your thoughts.
@Horace ~ I grew up on a small farm in Ohio. We grew corn, oats, wheat, timothy and alfalfa. My parents own 110 acres, 10 of which are woods and about 2 have buildings. My brother got 3 acres to build his house next to the farmhouse about 20 years ago. We had a very large garden every year and my mom canned. We always had chickens, but we only had pigs one year. We had a milk cow and about 10 head of beef of various ages at any given time. I loved to help feed the calves their bottles. lol We had two horses when I was very small and I had a pony, but it wasn't until I had married and left home that my parents went partners with another guy and raised a few race horses. This was after they stopped raising beef. They now rent the fields and barn out to a neighbor. My dad worked for Goodyear (43 years 3rd shift) because there was no way to survive with just the proceeds from the farm. It just wasn't big enough.I look forward to reading your book. :)
A Voracious Reader & RPSR wrote: "@Diane ~ What drew me in on your first page were the words:
'I could drown her.'
I'm not a fan of flowery description. It's just a personal preference. If it w..."
Hi there - thanks for the feedback, you know I'm surprised at the word 'flowery'- though it makes me smile because I once told a doctor I work with that his writing was so hard to read because it's very 'flowery', the guy is a big strapping cowboy who literally works in a black stetson. He just laughed and said he was 'a flowery kinda guy'.
I'm not sure I understand the 'flowery' reference. Can you tell me what you mean and what you found 'flowery'? Thanks!
'I could drown her.'
I'm not a fan of flowery description. It's just a personal preference. If it w..."
Hi there - thanks for the feedback, you know I'm surprised at the word 'flowery'- though it makes me smile because I once told a doctor I work with that his writing was so hard to read because it's very 'flowery', the guy is a big strapping cowboy who literally works in a black stetson. He just laughed and said he was 'a flowery kinda guy'.
I'm not sure I understand the 'flowery' reference. Can you tell me what you mean and what you found 'flowery'? Thanks!
@Diane ~ I answered in post 53. :)
Goddess of the Moon: Mayan World of Vampires is a self-published YA paranormal romance about vampires both good and evil, humans and healing angels.1. THE DARK ONE
In the Mayan city of Coba, near the Eastern coast of the Yucatan, the people gathered in the sweltering heat at the foot of the pyramid. The pyramid was erected in honor of the Dark One, Zafrina, Goddess of the Moon. The seven level structure was the tallest one in Southeastern Mexico. From the top of it, one could see a carpet of lush green jungle as far as the eye could see. But there were no people present that appreciated such beauty or celebrated life. They were summoned there as it were to witness things that went against the conscience of the average man, woman or child. Things that should make one’s skin crawl or shake with fear.
The pyramid was impressive to see with its open temple and stately columns at the top. It was unique in design, although Zafrina had used many different pyramids in other lands for this very purpose.
There were several platforms at varied heights parallel to the pyramid where people participated in bloodletting rituals such as piercing their skin on different parts of their bodies. They pierced their tongues with barbed rope. Women in scant clothing swayed to the beat of drums while their eyes rolled back in their heads. Tiny babies, just days old, were sacrificed to fulfill the bloodlust of the Dark One. Their peaceful faces peeked out from their blood stained swaddling clothes as they lay on top of some of the sacrificial platforms. The mothers were proud that their little ones were counted worthy for sacrifice. People are like sheep. They can be so quick to believe a lie. They could even play into the hands of one as seductive and powerful as Zafrina.
The sun was slowly sinking in the horizon. It would soon be time.
Princess Melanna stood with her closest friends on a platform that was parallel to the pyramid that reached two thirds of its height. They had a better view of what was happening than those at the bottom of the pyramid.
As the last rays of the golden sun disappeared, the Dark One and her servants, known as the Ancients, lead a procession on the top of the pyramid. Their torches blazed as they followed behind her in two rows. All were wearing ornamental masks and dark robes. Zafrina’s mask was decorated with more detail in turquoise, orange argillite and feather plumes. She wore a silver talisman around her neck that permitted her to walk in the sunlight without dying. It was also inlaid with the turquoise and orange argillite in the shape of a crescent moon.
In between the Ancients was a sullen young man, clothed from the hips down; his face was cast down in shadows. He stood taller than his captors with the glow of youth and a broad build. As they approached in plainer view, the young man, Noctli, lifted his face to the crowd. On his face was the look of despair as tears streamed down his cheeks. His demeanor changed when he half smiled with glazed eyes, as if he had wildly anticipated this moment.
Zafrina possessed great Power both over humans and the natural elements. Noctli’s friends were unaware that he had been easily compelled by Zafrina to do her bidding and give himself for a human sacrifice.
Melanna and her friends let out a gasp of shock. All they could do was watch in horror as the scene played out.
What kind of a sick joke is this? By whose authority is he being sacrificed? He has done nothing to deserve death. These things were screaming through Melanna’s mind.
The Ancients placed Noctli on the sacrificial altar and bound him. He was so calm. His friends wondered why he didn’t resist.
Zonya was among Melanna’s friends, watching. She had such grief in her heart that it almost felt like physical pain. Her tears flowed uncontrollably. The new love that had bloomed between them would be snuffed out this day. She was helpless only to watch what enfolded here.
Noctli’s sacrifice would protect his friends for now. Only until Zafrina decided it was time to spill more blood, to target whoever she saw as a threat.
In a commanding voice, the Dark One started reciting the sacrificial chant. Her servants repeated each phrase after her in unison. And then the chanting became quicker and heightened. It pulled the crowd in at the foot of the pyramid. The crowd waved their fists in the air to the rhythm of the chant, beckoning the goddess onward. Then Zafrina slowly raised an ornate obsidian knife above her head. She quickly plunged the knife into the Noctli’s chest. She cut out his heart and held it up for all to see. She slashed his right wrist in order for his blood to drip into an urn. No one could see behind her mask how she licked her lips or how her fangs glistened in anticipation of what would come. With the climax of the ceremonial evening over, the crowd slowly dispersed.
Noctli’s body, drained of blood, was taken to a holding chamber inside the pyramid and laid on the floor beside a handful of people that were tied and gagged. These unfortunate people wouldn’t be missed in the city. The smell of sweet, fresh blood caused the throats of the Ancients and their evil queen to burn with thirst. The Ancients removed their masks, revealing pasty, luminous faces with fangs ready to strike. Their black, demonic stares fixed on the fearful pulses at the necks of the humans. The humans strained in vain against their bonds at the sight of the hungry vampires. Horrific fear was in the eyes of the captives as they awaited their fate. The Ancients circled their prey and attacked in unison. No one could hear the blood-curdling screams of the victims as the people of Coba continued to drink and party through the night. The Ancients and their queen were overtaken by their feeding frenzy. The humans stopped thrashing about as they finally lay still and dead. Not a drop of blood was wasted...
Side note: this paperback is currently being offered in a Halloween gift bag on Ebay that will soon end in less than 2 days, starting at $3.50.
http://www.ebay.com/itm/180997518697?...
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.
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. : )
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.
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.
Re. Lesbian Crushes and Bulimia: A Diary on How I Acquired my Eating Disorder Janet wrote: "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. : )"Thanks, Janet. And yes, the diary-entry-only format fleshes the story out. I did a lot (years!) of editing work to ensure that it all flows and ties up. ... There's a sizeable 'look inside' chunk of my book on Amazon to lure you in further ;-)
A Voracious Reader & RPSR wrote: "@Diane ~ I answered in post 53. :)"
I see that now haha. I just missed it. Thanks!
I see that now haha. I just missed it. Thanks!
Diane wrote: "A Voracious Reader & RPSR wrote: "@Diane ~ I answered in post 53. :)"I see that now haha. I just missed it. Thanks!"
No problem. :)
Glenda wrote: "Goddess of the Moon: Mayan World of Vampires is a self-published YA paranormal romance about vampires both good and evil, humans and healing angels.
1. THE DARK ONE
In the Mayan city of Coba, near..."
Hi Glenda, thanks for posting here!
First of all, I have to tell you I am not overly fond of vampire stories, but I do enjoy Mayan mythology and/or history.
I think what you have written is a very dramatic start and does a good job of expressing the evil nature of Zafrina. A dramatic start is always a good start, in my opinion.
That being said I think you may want to look at a few things on your first page.
I felt disconnected from it and had little emotional investment, even though the scene was highly dramatic, and I think it is because we have no insight into these characters.
The great thing about novels is that you can get into your character's thoughts. You tell us what they are feeling but we don't hear them. There is no dialogue in this scene which may be a function of the ritual. Perhaps they don't speak.
I also found it jarring when lines like 'people are like sheep' were interjected. It jolted me outside the story because it seems to me it is an almost editorial aside. I don't know who is thinking that people are like sheep.
That's my view, for what it's worth. Good luck with it, Glenda!
Thanks
Diane
1. THE DARK ONE
In the Mayan city of Coba, near..."
Hi Glenda, thanks for posting here!
First of all, I have to tell you I am not overly fond of vampire stories, but I do enjoy Mayan mythology and/or history.
I think what you have written is a very dramatic start and does a good job of expressing the evil nature of Zafrina. A dramatic start is always a good start, in my opinion.
That being said I think you may want to look at a few things on your first page.
I felt disconnected from it and had little emotional investment, even though the scene was highly dramatic, and I think it is because we have no insight into these characters.
The great thing about novels is that you can get into your character's thoughts. You tell us what they are feeling but we don't hear them. There is no dialogue in this scene which may be a function of the ritual. Perhaps they don't speak.
I also found it jarring when lines like 'people are like sheep' were interjected. It jolted me outside the story because it seems to me it is an almost editorial aside. I don't know who is thinking that people are like sheep.
That's my view, for what it's worth. Good luck with it, Glenda!
Thanks
Diane
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..."Thank you for the comments. I'm really glad you liked my page. Would you like to review the whole novella? I have a free mobile version I could send you. And thanks again.
A Voracious Reader & RPSR wrote: "@Horace ~ I grew up on a small farm in Ohio. We grew corn, oats, wheat, timothy and alfalfa. My parents own 110 acres, 10 of which are woods and about 2 have buildings. My brother got 3 acres to bu..."
It sounds as if we had remarkably similar experiences. We had a contracting company to make money. Ditto with one year of pigs - we spent too much time getting them back in their pen.
;-)
It sounds as if we had remarkably similar experiences. We had a contracting company to make money. Ditto with one year of pigs - we spent too much time getting them back in their pen.
;-)
For Justin, (Cat's Paw)Justin, this opening drew me in. Nice work. Your descriptions are really good and I'm curious and intrigued. That final line in first paragraph (In the summer of 2001, Vicki Campbell was murdered.) is a real hook. What if you used that as your opening line? Now you've really grabbed me and created suspense from the start. It seems to me that the first seven lines are background. How about sprinkling the background thoughts into the following paragraphs?
Paula wrote: "For Justin, (Cat's Paw)Justin, this opening drew me in. Nice work. Your descriptions are really good and I'm curious and intrigued. That final line in first paragraph (In the summer of 2001, Vick..."
Paula, thank you for the comments and he helpful hints. I am really glad that you liked my first page. I appreciate it and I'm glad that you took he time to read it.
Janet wrote: "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 hav..."That's great advice. I will certainly look into that. I'll also message you. I don't have a lot of contacts in that regard (I grew up overseas so that's where my contacts stol are). I have a lot to offer as a graphic designer though. Maybe that will help.
I just finished my YA novel Book One: Dragon and I'll be posting it on here soon! And I'll also be posting the first page of my adult sci-fi novel Indestructible: Past. I hope everyone likes them.
Jill wrote: "Dangerous Shift by Jill JamesPrologue
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..."
Jill, I really liked the start of your novel. It had aspects that immediately drew me in and others that really kept the story going. There were some really great descriptions in there. However, I would have to agree with Janet as well. The flow of the story did get a little tangled and I had a hard time keeping track of who's who also. Also, and this is something I struggle with as well, it would probably help to cut down on lenghty descriptions. I go through my own writings several times and cut out things like that wherever I can. Too many descriptions can really slow the pace of a book.
Jill wrote: "Rustin, thanks for the comments."You're welcome. Anytime.
Here is the first page to my YA novel, Book One: Dragon. It's about a somewhat spoiled prince that survives an assassination attempt only to end up in the hands of his people's greatest enemy. Thankfully, however, the girl that rescues him decides to save his life instead. Rone stood on the massive terrace to his apartment overlooking Roanoke. He sighed miserably and placed his head in his hands. In little more than an hour there was going to be yet another function at the Citadel featuring more tedious fools from the Upper Tier. He groaned loudly at the prospect of yet another boring, drawn out function where the only interesting thing happening was watching (and laughing) as the idiots tried to dance. His mind’s eye showed him the endless train of people parading in front of his father’s throne. It literally took four or more hours for the whole process to finish, and that was just the parade past the throne. It didn’t include the conference, the dinner, or the party that concluded the whole thing.
He went back inside his suite and glanced at the holographic vidscreen covering the entire right wall of the living room.
“Come on down to Blue City for all the latest, and greatest, blueprints!” A man with outrageously blue hair shouted from the screen. His eyes popped out of his head and he had a big, overly-cheery smile plastered to his face.
Rone glanced at the display on his living room wall. It was broken up into several sections. The commercial with the blue-haired man (a very minor Duke named Astor Ronnan, he remembered) finished and an archaic Terraquois PSA took its place. He ignored the outdated and overly dramatized cartoon and turned instead to the weather section of the display. It showed only a bright yellow ball and stated that the temperature was seventy-nine degrees. He stepped closer to the screen and placed a finger on a little arrow in the bottom right corner of that section. The display expanded and showed several days’ worth of forecasts and included an hour by hour weather prediction. He read over it carefully. It said that the skies were clear for the rest of the day.
“Perfect.” He murmured. “Bastion.” He called.
“Your Highness.” A male voice answered. There was a low humming sound and the vents on the mechpaks embedded into both forearms opened, spewing a cloud of microscopic robots called nanobots (or nanos for short) into the air. They eventually coalesced into the head of a young man that closely resembled Rone’s own face. There were subtle differences. Bastion (his avatar) had blonde hair so light, it was nearly white. His eyebrows were almost invisible. His eyes were a brown so dark, it made them look like two black marbles. Bastion’s cheekbones were a bit higher than Rone’s own and the avatar had also taken on a long, slightly hooked nose. Rone’s was a bit shorter and rounded at the end. Also, his own hair was a dark brown that had a coppery tint to it in any kind of direct light.
“Open a direct channel to my father, King Rowan.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.” Bastion said before dissolving and flowing back into the mechpaks.
The screen in front of him suddenly went dark. When it came back on, his father was peering at him. His one remaining eye (a light blue nearly the same shade as Rone’s own eyes) glittered inquisitively at him. A circular patch made of dark metal covered the ruined hole where his other one used to be. Rone stared intently at the thick scars that twisted from his father’s scalp and wound diagonally over his face and neck, ending a couple of inches beneath the King’s collar bone. There were four sets of scars, made from the Terraquois warrior king, Tarvo, in his bear form. The fight between the two was the stuff of legend.
Janet wrote: "Chapter 1 – Brain AttackNo 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 th..."
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 to the character. I have no idea what type of book this is but I am a fan of fantasy and science fiction so my mind immediately asked "is she going to develop some extra sensory power or skill?" would definitely read more.
Hi Diane, I am really glad I found this group. This is the first page of a new book I am working on. It is called Mind over Matter. I remember being four years old and watching Nana sit in her favorite rocking chair. She would stare aimlessly out the window, seeing nothing as her body rocked back and forth in its rhythmic motion. Nana never paid much attention to me when she was like this. I watched anxiously as I felt her sadness like a dagger in my heart. I was too young to understand the pain she was in after Grandpa died. All I knew was Nana was sad and I could feel her pain. I slowly got up from the plush blue carpet and went over to my Nana. I pulled on her long green skirt and waited patiently for her to see me. An interminable amount of time passed when finally Nana looked down at me. The pain I felt mirrored in her eyes. It made me scared that Nana hurt so much.
“What is it Carly?” She asked me.
“Why are you sad Nana?” I asked. Again, I felt the pain from her and I wanted desperately to make it stop. I raised my arms to her so she would pick me up.
“I’m not sad Carly." Nana lied. I knew she lied because I could feel her pain like a knife in my heart. Nana hugged me tight to her chest.
“Yes you are Nana,” I told her. I touched her face with my little hands and felt the emotion stronger than before.
“Why do you say that?” Nana asked.
“I can feel it Nana,” I told her. “It makes me hurt in here” I pointed at my chest so she would understand what I was telling her. My heart beat quickly waiting for her to understand.
Here is the opening to my short story, Hildie at the Ghost Shore. Is it clear? Inviting?Silent and soft, the snow falls. The dim vales beyond are restful. In the shadows, Hildie walks through fairy woods, every branch hanging with mounds of snow, white as cow’s milk. She is mindful not to carry her lantern too close to her cloak. The hem, set with stones, drags across the icy path. She takes comfort that her hood, lined with white cat skins, warms her ears against the wind. A scent of cooking rises from the chimneys, smoky and sweet. As the sun rises against the thatched roofs, she is reminded to hurry to the village square, lest she be late again. Too many days she has tarried, watching for that wild horse named Sleipnir from a legend told by her papa. What joy to ride such a creature, sleek as a pearl, through the forest; dreamy images of the steed sprouting wings and flying her off into the heavens would much occupy her mind. Sleipnir, one might think this the silliness of a child instead of a wizened woman with a mere dust of age on her head.
Just as the sun bursts the sky, Hildie enters the lace shop. Meneer Dekker will be pleased with her punctuality today. Up the hidden staircase to the attic she climbs, her skirt gathered above her ankles for safe footing. The fire is already lit in the hearth—Meneer Dekker being the kindest of all shopkeepers to attend to her comfort. Hildie finds the kettle of water he leaves for her each morning—another kindness. She hooks it above the flame for apple-scrap tea.
Hildie gazes out the window to the tumultuous North Sea rolling at the ghost shore: yesterday the waves peaked like small white hands gently combing the sea; today, they conspire with a fierce rocking and speak of thunder. At her window-table, she sits down to gather her bobbins. Every day Hilde weaves the most exquisite Brugge lace patterns on her bone bobbins. Meneer Dekker provides her with expensive silk threads for her prized art. “The finest in all of Belgium,” he often boasts to his patrons.
The cries of gulls soothe her and she begins to hum. Warm and safe, with the sweet of tea on her lips, she sends her happy fingers weaving the silk in gentle rhythms. There is even a labyrinth of sunlight across the pegged floor.
A knock at the door startles her. She expects no one, certainly not Meneer Dekker who is normally occupied sweeping threads from the floors and arranging his most attractive bolts of fabric in the shop window. She cracks open the door.
No light on the steps, but she can see a man’s great round eyes. His cap carries the scent of salt and tobacco: a wrinkled complexion speaks of long days at the mercy of the lashing wind and sun.
“I seek Mevrouw Hildegarde, the mistress of runecraft.”
-------------------------------------------------
Hi Cynthia.Mind Over Matter is a very moving opening and I wanted to read more. You clearly have a skill to relate emotion. One criticism: you seem to use the word "felt" a lot (I felt this, I felt that). The word "felt" is considered to be one of the most overused words in writing and decreases the dramatic impact. I do this in my first drafts too; it's natural. I would cut that word at much as possible and just "show" us the feeling instead of telling us you felt something. Instead of ... I watched anxiously as I felt her sadness like a dagger in my heart. Try ... I watched anxiously, a dagger in my heart. Get the idea? Hope this helps.
Paula wrote: "Hi Cynthia.Mind Over Matter is a very moving opening and I wanted to read more. You clearly have a skill to relate emotion. One criticism: you seem to use the word "felt" a lot (I felt this, I fel..."
Thanks Paula for the constructive feedback. I didn't realize I used the word as often as I did until you pointed it out. The problem I have now is that Carly is "empathic" she can physically feel peoples emotions. Negative emotions are often painful and she eventually becomes a juvenile delinquent to keep people away from her. Any idea on how I could portray the physical pain?
Is this better?
I remember being four years old, watching Nana sit in her favorite wooden rocking chair. She would stare aimlessly out the window, seeing nothing as her body rocked back and forth in its rhythmic motion. Nana never paid much attention to me when she was like this. I watched anxiously as her sadness transferred to me like a dagger in my heart. I was too young to understand the pain she had undergone after Grandpa died. All I knew was Nana was sad and when people were sad it made me hurt. I slowly got up from the plush blue carpet and went over to my Nana. I pulled on her long green skirt and waited patiently for her to see me. An interminable amount of time passed when finally Nana looked down at me. The pain I experienced mirrored in her eyes. It made me scared that Nana hurt so much.
“What is it Carly?” She asked me.
“Why are you sad Nana?” I asked. Again, I experienced a sharp pain that emanated from her to me and I wanted desperately to make it stop. I raised my arms to her so she would pick me up.
“I’m not sad Carly." Nana lied as she lifted me and placed me on her knee. I knew she lied because the pain in my chest was coming from her. Nana hugged me tight to her chest.
“Yes you are Nana,” I told her. I touched her face with my little hands and the emotional output became stronger than before.
“Why do you say that?” Nana asked.
“I can feel it Nana,” I told her. “It makes me hurt-- in here,” I pointed at my chest so she would understand what I was telling her. My heart beat quickly as I waited.
Nana looked at me for a long moment and I could sense her understanding at last. She was surprised at first but then she seemed to know what I meant. “Don’t fret little one” Nana hugged me tightly. “Your Nana will be fine. I was just missing your Grandpa.”
The pain inside me dissipated then distracting me.
Paula wrote: "Here is the opening to my short story, Hildie at the Ghost Shore. Is it clear? Inviting?Silent and soft, the snow falls. The dim vales beyond are restful. In the shadows, Hildie walks through fai..."
I love all the description. I can actually see everything going on and it makes the story engaging. I often have to do alot of rewriting until I get all the description in my stories. Is this a finished product? really well done.
Yes, Cynthia, your rewrite is much tighter and the opening has higher drama. I love it!Re Hildie, it is pretty much finished. I never know if my writing is clear enough. I'm always tweaking here and there. It seem rewriting can go on forever. Thanks!
Cynthia, to portray the physical pain, can you show the action through interior monologue? ... I wanted to double over from the sharp stab in my gut.That line would be in italics to show it's the character's present thought (and in present tense). Interior monologue is a really good device to bring your reader deeply into what the character is feeling right at that moment. But we have to be careful not to overuse it.
Paula wrote: "Yes, Cynthia, your rewrite is much tighter and the opening has higher drama. I love it!Re Hildie, it is pretty much finished. I never know if my writing is clear enough. I'm always tweaking here ..."
I hear you about the rewrite. Even after I published The Witch Guardian I want to make more changes...
For today only you can go to Amazon.com and download a free Kindle version of my novella, Cat's Paw. I hope whoever gets their free copy really enjoys it. If you could, could whoever downloads it give out a review on Amazon.com, Goodreads, etc? Thanks.
Re: "Goddess of the Moon: Mayan World of Vampires is a self-published YA paranormal romance about vampires both good and evil, humans and healing angels.Diane Wrote: The great thing about novels is that you can get into your character's thoughts. You tell us what they are feeling but we don't hear them. There is no dialogue in this scene which may be a function of the ritual. Perhaps they don't speak.
I also found it jarring when lines like 'people are like sheep' were interjected. It jolted me outside the story because it seems to me it is an almost editorial aside. I don't know who is thinking that people are like sheep...
Thanks for reviewing this opening page, Diane. You are correct in that there isn't much dialog in the opening page(s). It is the heart of the story and paints a picture of how evil vampires can take over a city and impose a "human sacrifice" in the name of preserving the Mayan way of life. After the first climax of this book in its opening page, the story picks up about 21 years before this and brings the reader back to the place where the book began.
The words 'people are like sheep' are the mindset of the main character Zafrina aka Goddess of the Moon. She and her vampires, the Ancients, have traveled the world for thousands of years sucking whole cities and civilizations dry. So she would feel like humans are just sheep to slaughter. The blurb for my book at Amazon is more clear:
"The Dark One known as Zafrina deceives the people of Coba into thinking that if they refuse the ritual of human sacrifice, that they will perish by drought and famine. Zafrina and her vampire horde known as the Ancients take over the city of Coba with plans to drain it dry like all the other places around the world that they have inhabited. All of this enfolds as Princess Melanna comes of age, falls in love and answers the call to join the resistance to fulfill the prophecy that she would overthrow the vampire reign of Zafrina and her Ancients. Tez was also a victim of Zafrina. But he now wants to end the one who made him an immortal. He finds himself bound by a promise to become a lifelong protector of Melanna and falls in love with her. Together they face their enemies in a battle for the human race. While the story is descriptive of the jungles of the Yucatan and its inhabitants, you see the relationships of a young woman who is detached from her family and seeks solace in her surrogate mother, her friends and her vampire boyfriend. It is ultimately about a young woman who overcomes adversity on several levels as we see her transform into the heroine and victor over fantastical odds. The jungle comes alive in this tale of good versus the ultimate evil in a time before the Spanish conquest of the Yucatan."
The story focuses on what Melanna is feeling and thinking as well as what her vampire boyfriend, Tez, is feeling and thinking, more so than the mind of Zafrina. A picture of Zafrina can be gathered by her dialogue and her actions.
I'm a first time writer and I call myself an accidental writer. I started out writing little pieces of it, brought it to work, and shared with my coworker and her two daughters. Her girls would scribble stuff on my pages and give it back to me. It was fun and I plan on doing it again with the book that follows this one.
Good luck with it, Glenda, and keep writing!
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
Rustin wrote: "Here is the first page to my YA novel, Book One: Dragon. It's about a somewhat spoiled prince that survives an assassination attempt only to end up in the hands of his people's greatest enemy. Th..."I really like the first page of this book Rustin. I am a sci fi nut and love this stuff. I like all the description that you have put into it which I need in order to feel the story. I know that most people who read sci fi etc already know what things are but have to ask what is a Mechpak? I get that somehow his avatar comes out of it from organized nanobots but when I read it I had to stop and go..Mechpak? You might want to describe the technical stuff and how this process works a little better for those of us that don't understand it all. Love to read about it but not necessarily technically minded enough to see it in my head when I read.
Janet wrote: "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 "Br..."
That must have been scary and mind blowing! Are you sure you didn't develop any weird super powers? Now you can see ghosts? I could totally see you making a fiction story about this. Think of all the powers you could come up with. Think about it!
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. The amulet was an heirloom, passed down to Serena from her
mother. It had been in her family for generations. The design was of a
pentagram with an athame pierced through it. The hilt of the athame
had an eye on it, which symbolized the witch’s power to manipulate
the mind. The dagger was the weapon of choice for the witches of Serena’s
people. The amulet possessed the power of a Guardian who protected
the owner from harm. The Guardian was a guide that helped a
young witch through the trials of her trade. It contained all the knowledge
and wisdom that each generation passed on to the next. It was an
invaluable tool for a new witch. For this reason, those of the underworld
also sought after the Guardian.
“I call forth the Guardian of the ancient line of Danforth. I summon
the power of Earth, Water, Wind and Fire . . . I seek guidance and
protection.”
A lone figure of a man materialized before Serena. He was an
elderly gentleman dressed in a flowing white robe with the hood partially
concealing his face. At a glance, he appeared to be in his midsixties,
but Serena knew the Guardian had been around for centuries.
He appeared to each new generation of witch in a different form. Each
apparition is one that the witch has subconsciously created for him.
For Serena, the Guardian appeared as an elderly gentleman much like
her own father, who was murdered by a demon when she was very
young. The Guardian was her father figure. She briefly wondered how
he would appear to her own daughter once she passed the amulet on to
her, which would involve a spell to complete the handover.
“The time has come for you to protect Chelsea with your guidance
and wisdom,” Serena told him.
“What about you, Serena?” the Guardian asked her, concerned.
“Who will protect you? You’re weak from Drake’s attack. It is not wise
to hand me off prematurely. Perhaps you are jumping the gun.”
“It is too late for me now,” she replied, visibly weakened. “Drake
has drained much of my strength and power. I will not survive this
night. I will not let him get Chelsea, however, before she is ready to
fight him. My time has come; hers is a long way off.” Serena spoke with
conviction in her voice, concern for her daughter strengthening her
resolve. “I need you to protect her from Drake. Guide her and teach her
what you taught me. Show her how to use her power and give her the
strength and courage to accept her destiny and do what must be done.”
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.
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.
Hi everyone! I just wanted to stop in quick and say I haven't abandoned you all. Some home improvement projects that we thought would be quick were, well...not. lol I should be back tomorrow to read the new first pages. :)
Janet wrote: "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...."
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?
Cynthia wrote: "Rustin wrote: "Here is the first page to my YA novel, Book One: Dragon. It's about a somewhat spoiled prince that survives an assassination attempt only to end up in the hands of his people's grea..."Thanks, Cynthia. I appreciate the comments. I am in he editing phase and caught hat early on. I added a little more detail on what the mechpaks are. Essentially they are what houses the nanos and where they go when they are not in use.
A Voracious Reader (a.k.a. Carol) wrote: "Hi everyone! I just wanted to stop in quick and say I haven't abandoned you all. Some home improvement projects that we thought would be quick were, well...not. lol I should be back tomorrow to rea..."Cool. Good to see you back.
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.
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.
First Page of Your Book.
Books mentioned in this topic
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The Keeper of the Stones (other topics)
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Offbeat Love Stories and More (other topics)
More...
'I could drown her.'
'It would be easy.'
‘She’s weak.’
I'm not a fan of flowery description. It's just a personal preference. If it w..."
Hi Voracious Reader - you found my description of the mountains 'flowery'? I'm kind of surprised at that because I try to avoid 'purple prose'. The word 'flowery' does make me smile though because I once told a doctor I worked with, a big strappin' cowboy doctor with a black stetson, that the reason his orders were so hard to read was because his handwriting was so 'flowery' haha. He just laughed and said, "I'm a flowery kinda guy."
Anyway, that was an aside. I'm wondering if you could tell me in my writing what you found specifically 'flowery'?
Thanks!
Diane