Fixing the First Page Feature #18

Photo credit: mac.rj on Flickr

Christmas has come and gone, there are four days until 2016 and the next Fixing the First Page critique is here! Woohoo!

As per usual, I'll start by posting the full first 250 excerpt, after which I'll share my overall thoughts, then my redline critique. I encourage you guys to share your own thoughts and critiques in the comments (because I'm one person with one opinion!), as long as it's polite, thoughtful, and constructive. Any rude or mean comments will be unceremoniously deleted.

Here we go!

Title: COUNTERPOINT

Genre: New Adult Contemporary

First 250:

The snow drifted softly down on the frozen grass, the grey sky swallowing the openness of the world. I stood, staring down hard at the tombstone at my feet. My body was calm, my pulse steady, my mind churning slowly. The violin case weighed my arm down, as if it had a magnetic attraction to my Mom who was beneath my feet, in the ground. Dead. 

I set the case down, kneeling; I touched the headstone, tracing her name: “Amy Duple: Wife, Mother. 1972-2017.” No “devoted wife,” no “loving mother.” Just “wife.” Just “mother.” Keeping it simple, keeping it all about image. God-forbid someone see you as weak, as nurturing. I opened my mouth and sucked in some cool crisp air. Last time I’d been here, it’d been raining. I missed the rain. I missed the moisture up in Oregon too. Down here it was all cracked and chapped and broken. Like our family. 

“I have some things to say,” I said to the grave, tracing the letters of my mother’s name with my hand. “Things are a mess. They’re a mess and I’m so angry. Noah left me; Violet is… like you; Dad’s too optimistic to realize anything is wrong; I didn’t get in to tour and Emma and Noah did and Violet tried to fix it and it’s all just… you’re dead.” I pelted the words at the slab of stone. Just a hug, just a genuine smile, a reassuring hand. Was that too much to hope for from you, Mom?

Okay! So, firstly, I'm wondering if we've started in the right spot here. I've mentioned before that openings should take place right before the inciting incident, and should be hinting at the incident right from the first page (subtly, of course, but still there should be some echoes of conflict, preferably conflict that links to the inciting incident). You also want to make sure that you start with a strong hook of some kind, and to me, this hook isn't quite there and I'm not convinced this is where the story really begins.

I'm also thinking our protagonist's voice doesn't quite fit NA—voice is something that's really hard to pin down (best way to learn voice for a category or genre is to read a lot of the category/genre), and to me this reads as a little more YA than NA, I think, probably, at least partially because we're focused on the protagonist missing their mother. Not to say that NA leads can't (or don't) miss passed away parents, but because this is our opening and the first impression of the protagonist that we have, it made them sound younger to me. 

Now for the line-edits:

The snow drifted softly down onto the frozen grass, the grey sky swallowing the openness of the world I like the idea and imagery associated with the sky swallowing something, but I'm not sure I understand what you're going for with "the openness of the world". I stood, staring down hard at the tombstone at my feet. My body was calm, my pulse steady, my mind churning slowly. I feel like you might be focusing on the wrong emotional tells here? If your protag's visiting his mother in a graveyard, I wouldn't expect his pulse to be affected or his thoughts to be racing—I'd expect them to be sad (and depending on the circumstances, maybe a little angry) and be dealing with those emotional reactions. The violin case weighed my arm down, as if it had a magnetic attraction to my Mom who was beneath my feet, in the ground. I get that the violin case is there probably to tell us something about your protagonist, but logically, why would your protagonist bring their violin to a graveyard? Dead. You don't need this. We understand your protagonist is visiting their mother at a graveyard, and if we didn't, we'd get it in the next paragraph. 

I set the case down, kneeling; I touched the headstone, tracing her name: “Amy Duple: Wife, Mother. 1972-2017.” No “devoted wife,” no “loving mother.” Just “wife.” Just “mother.” Is this supposed to be your protagonist's thought? The frequent switch between italics and non-italicized words threw me off here. Keeping it simple, keeping it all about image. God-forbid someone see you as weak, as nurturing. I am fortunately not versed in how words are chosen for tombstones, but isn't that something the family chooses, after their loved one has passed? If so, wouldn't that be more of a statement on the family that chose the words, rather than the protagonist's mother? I opened my mouth and sucked in some cool, crisp air. Last time I’d been here, it’d been raining. I missed the rain. I missed the moisture up in Oregon too. Down here it was all cracked and chapped and broken. This makes it sound like your protagonist is in a desert/super dry area, but you say last time they'd been there, it was raining, so I'm not sure. Is the area undergoing a drought? Like our family. 

“I have some things to say,” I said to the grave aloud, tracing the letters of my mother’s name with my hand. “Things are a mess. They’re a mess and I’m so angry. Noah left me; Violet is… like you; Dad’s too optimistic to realize anything is wrong; I didn’t get in to tour and Emma and Noah did and Violet tried to fix it and it’s all just… you’re dead.” Okay, so this monologue, to me, reads as you, the author, trying to tell the reader background information, which makes me wonder if this whole scene is only here to give background info. If so, I definitely recommend cutting this scene and starting wherever the story really starts and giving us this information through action, observations, dialogue that isn't a monologue, etc.. I pelted the words at the slab of stone. Just a hug, just a genuine smile, a reassuring hand. I found this sentence confusing at first. I get that maybe your protagonist wishes their mother did these things while she was alive, but in this context, it almost seems like your protag wants those things now which is confusing given that they are in a graveyard, alone. Was that too much to hope for from you, Mom?

Right, so, after reading this twice, I'm even more convinced that this is probably not starting in the right spot for your story, though that's impossible to say for sure without looking at your full plot. I definitely recommend, however, going back to your plot and thinking about where the story really starts and what the inciting incident is (this is a super common struggle with openings though, so don't worry!). As is, if I saw this in the slush, I would pass.

I hope that helps! Thanks for sharing your first 250 with us, Luke!

Would you like to be featured in a Fixing the First Page Feature? Keep an eye out for the first first 250 crit giveaway of 2016 (ahh!) next month!

Twitter-sized bite:

.@Ava_Jae talks inciting incidents and starting in the right place in the 18th Fixing the First Page critique. (Click to tweet)