Showing My Age

My writing age, that is.

I feel like I landed the voice in my new middle-grade proposal. It's first-person, and Alvaro spends chapter one essentially riffing on life. He introduces his twin sister, his grandma, and the three Hulks (part of the story). He tells readers about his dad and his mom. And about there being something very strange about his upbringing. I really slipped into this voice easily and found my groove. And it's definitely (I think) easy reading--with some suspense. The kind of opening that would make a reader want to know more.

Except I'm essentially tossing it. Which means I am showing my age.

You see, when I first started writing, there was something about that first chapter that I became attached to. Very rarely would I change a word, because the first chapter usually represented the culmination of a lot of thought, and I had "pre-written" much of it in my head.

Now, I am more apt to step back and think precisely what I did about my middle-grade idea. That yes, there is something there and the chapter outlines essential elements. But it needs to open with a BANG.

Writers mature. In four of the last five books I worked on as an editor, I saw good writing. I saw that the writer put the character out there, set up enough of the back story. But in the end, I saw the opening chapters too much as set-up. As if the writer need to just get it down on paper for himself or herself, to set the world up. And that's fine. As long as that's not what's reaching the reader in the end.

With time and a whole lot of writing under my belt, I now see that my chapter, funny and tightly written as it is, was really just for ME. It was for me to find his voice and feel around for who he is and what his world is (there are supernatural elements at work). But now I need to feel around for the STORY and bring it front and center.

Thoughts? How do you establish your opening chapter? What do you think it has to contain? And how are your opening chapters now different from what you wrote when you first started fiction?

The New Guy

So I started playing with a new book and a new character for a proposal. I have a chapter and a half done for a day of playing. And I like my new guy. I REALLY like him. And I started thinking . . . what did I put in chapter one so that the reader will like him and go along for the ride for 300 pages?

--Well, New Guy is sardonic. He talks to his dead father. Not in an "I see Dead People" sort of way, but a "You have GOT to be kidding me . . . THIS is the mess you left me when you died three weeks ago." He doesn't do it constantly (that would be annoying). Just in one spot where it's absolutely relevant. A one-off line. It could be to the heavens, it could even be to himself, but it's really directed at his dad.

--That said, he clearly adored his old man and the weight of his death hits him square in the chest. This character is grieving, but he has himself pulled together. It's just he periodically feels a punch in his solar plexus at the thought of death's permanence.

--He's tough He enters a dilapidated house in Camden, New Jersey (worse crime stats than New Orleans . . . often ranked worst in entire U.S.). You know by SHOWING that he is comfortable on the streets. On tough streets. Whoever this guy is, he's not foolhardy, or even necessarily brave, but just comfortable doing what needs doing, even in Camden.

--His weapon of choice isn't a gun but a tire iron. He's six foot two and can take care of himself.

--That said, he's not STUPID. He realizes he shouldn't be where he is, but there is a promise of something his father left him when he died.

--He's a stand-up guy. He knows what his father did for a living, knows that world is crooked, but he's loyal.

--And finally, when he discovers the surprise is astounding . . . an obscene amount of money . . . he doesn't think of how he can spend it. He assumes the person this money (and a secret cache of something else) was stolen from will never stop looking for it, and tire iron or not, he knows he's in a world of sh*t.

--I nearly forgot. To find out where the money/cache originated, he will be forced to go visit his father's best friend, and will have to, by association, see that man's daughter. And that's the last thing he wants to do. You don't know why, but clearly, this is something he dreads because of a history.

Now, the hook is the surprise because it's really much, much more than an obscene amount of money, but the concept is secret for now. Because it is that cool.

Anyway, I like New Guy. And I know I have a hook (albeit secret from you all). But I really started thinking about the works in progress of friends. Why do I love Lurker Monkey's young hero? It has to do with a scene of longing, I think. Something he did to instantly make me KNOW who this kid is.

I think of published works--mine, others--what do writers put in chapter one to keep you along for the ride?

In the end, why do you CARE?

So . . . new guy . . . or old guy . . . tell me about your main character ONLY as revealed in chapter one. ONLY chapter one. What do we find out and why do we want to go along for the ride?

The First Chapter

I have been reeamining how I approach my first chapter in light of reading Child-44. While technically it's the prologue that is so astounding to me, it is the idea that the first chapter reveals so much that when you finish the book and go back to the first chapter, you have an "a-ha" moment. To Kill a Mockingbird also does that.

So I've been pondering how to do just that in my new Magickeepers book . . . and I do think I've somehow gone deeper with the prologue. But it's on my mind constantly. So yesterday, I was stuck in bed all day . . . and I clicked through the 5,000 channels on my TV. Perhaps I don't really have 5,000 channels, but it's a helluva lot. I even get soccer games in England. Cricket matches! And The Godfather was on.

I alaways loved Godfather I and II. Thought the acting and filmmaking were brilliant. But because I have seen them so many times, I generally watch them now in bits and pieces, and it has been YEARS since I saw the opening scene of The Godfather.

I was stunned. The film perfectly accomplishes what I have been thinking about the first chapter. Every single snippet of dialogue heard at the wedding of Connie and her doomed and brutal husband, every gesture, everything, foreshadows events not just in Godfather I but also II. Better yet, in single LINES, just one line here and there, you learn so much that NOW are part of the lore of the Godfather, but likely were passed over the first time you saw the flick. Case in point, Marlon Brando will not take a photograph without Michael who has not arrived at the wedding. The entire family is lined up, ready to snap the picture, and he steps out of the line of the photographer and says no, there will be no family photograph until Michael comes. He walks away and someone asks Sonny what happened. Watch his face as he says Pop won't take a picture without Michael. The whole relationship of the brothers, the father, and so on are there in one moment. Even when Sonny's wife says "Watch yourself" to Sonny, in a throwaway line, I can't help but think of what happens to him.

I used to think the first chapter started a book. Lately, with all the talk of the market and digging deeper, I realize that though no "perfect" first chapter exists, the ability to put so much more of the novel into the first chapter with symbolism, theme, dialogue, and setting . . . with what you reveal of character . . . elevates it from "the beginning" to so much more. Alpha and Omega.

Thoughts?

Original

I had an incredible ah-ha writing moment yesterday.

You see, I had agreed to judge a writing contest--a fellow blogger over at Teen Fiction Cafe asked me to for the chapter of her RWA. Necessarily, then, I was reading one "first chapter" after another. When you read this way, I think it's a lot easier to notice flaws. It's also a lot easier to notice one that stands out because you're disappointed when the chapter ends. And it's a lot easier to mentally make comparisons between writers. Now I at least understand why some agents, and RWA chapters, and blog sites have contests for first paragraphs or first pages or whatever.

I was given a score sheet, and after I finished each first chapter, I had to score 20 different areas on a scale of 1-5 and then tally. Surprisingly (to me at least) the winner that emerged wasn't the one I would have kept reading--because it's not the type of book I would pick personally. But that actually showed me that I was being objective (as objective as possible given, of course, that I am a subjective human being, as we all are). If I had to give the authors a score of 1-5 on, say "Is the premise sufficient to sustain the length of the book?" and 19 other areas, and the author who won consistently scored higher even if it's not something I would read, then "objectively" (or at least as objectively as "judging" writers can be) she won.

But my real ah-ha moment was in understanding why so many writers with SUCH fierce talent struggle to get published. Because in some entries, I as an editor could see "Wow . . . talent!" The voice was there, it was polished, the details were vivid, the dialogue funny. But though the characters were engaging, they were just another variation on a thousand books before it--the city girl out of place in the country, the bad boy on a motorcycle, the Jane Austen-esque historical, the Manolo-clad heroine, the mother too busy for her own daughter, the . . . You get the idea.

Now bear with me for the ah-ha. Contest judging is VERY MUCH like being an editor or agent. Think about it. While you MIGHT read an entire book, most of the time, you are giving a writer two or three chapters--maybe even just one--to engage you. So necessarily, you, or your assistant, are reading first chapters after first chapters looking--and hoping--for the one that makes you tingle. The one that makes you pause--THIS is original, this is FRESH, this is high-concept.

We all know everything's been done before. But the task is to make your "what's been done before" sound totally original.

I talked to my new editor yesterday. I am SO excited about my new deal--a spring 2009 release. And I can tell you . . . in all honesty, you have NEVER heard of a story like this before. Yeah, there are a couple of familiar things. A distant father, for example. But nothing like it that I've ver heard of. And that made me excited, and I can't wait to announce it.

And so, I get it. Why you have to approach editors with something new. I saw talent in the contest, I really, really did. But to compete, you need something original. This is something we all need to keep in mind. Because as we compete in the greatest "First Chapter" contest ever--trying to get published--the competition is fierce.

Thoughts?