Which Prologue Is Groovier? “Damaged in Service” vs. “Last Chance at the Lost and Found”

Today, we are comparing prologues from two books: “Damaged in Service” by Barrett and “Last Chance at the Lost and Found” by Marcia Finical.

WHICH PROLOGUE IS GROOVIER? The one from “Damaged in Service.”

“Damaged in Service” opens with a prologue. Often, that’s a strike (look for a blog post soon on whether to prologue or not to prologue). “Ohhhh boy,” was my thought when I realized the book had a prologue. Prologues irritate many people, and many people skip the prologues. Worst are the prologues that go on and on for pages. This prologue seems to work, though. For one thing, it is short, and there is a character whose head I can get into and identify with.

A seeming negative (at least for me) is the use of “she” for a bit too long with no noun identifier/no name. (See where it bothered me in “Above All, Honor”.) However, it doesn’t bother me here in “Damaged in Service”; the scene was set well, this person is the only character in the prologue, and she is in a scary situation. I can immediately put myself in her place, and I might not have done so as readily if she had been identified by name up front. In the other book, there was no mystery, and the nameless character was being reamed out by her boss.

Another seeming negative: After a few paragraphs, the character wakes up. She has been in bed. This usually is cause for another “Ohhhh boy” from me. (See Nathan Bransford’s blog post here on five openings to avoid: http://blog.nathanbransford.com/2011/06/five-openings-to-avoid.html). However, this aspect doesn’t much bother me in this prologue, perhaps because this is not a mere dream. These events happened, and that creates a hook and sets the stage. The author seems to have approached this prologue deliberately and has reasons for each of its elements.

However, the italics are a bit of a problem, especially when they necessitate having the character’s thoughts show up as regular text (instead of italics). For the prologue, I would have used a different font instead of using italics.

Now, about the prologue of “Last Chance at the Lost and Found.” It IS intriguing in its own way. It definitely is short and snappy. Its main flaw is that compared with the beginning of Chapter One, Chapter One shines and grabs attention much better. One issue I had was this prologue was mostly “tell” and not “show.” There is really no character to connect with. Chapter One is a much stronger, dare I say, SMASHING, opening. This book just might have done better to nix the prologue.

What do you think? Vote!

Which First Page is Groovier? “Above All, Honor” vs. “Safe Harbor”

Today we’re looking at the first sections of two of Radclyffe’s books: “Safe Harbor” and “Above All, Honor.” For both selections, read from Chapter One to the first *.

WHICH IS GROOVIER? “Above All, Honor” wins.

Safe Harbor (Provincetown Tales) — Sorry to say, this section did not do much for me. The writing skill is there, obviously, and I would read on. However, you’ve probably noticed from previous blog posts that I’m not crazy about scene setting or weather setting this early in a story. This story could be about anything. Nothing distinctive about this opening. No hook.

Above All, Honor (Honor Series) — This one is better. The hook is there. The conflict is there. The tension is there. However, this is a lesbian story. I would’ve liked to be in the female character’s point of view instead of the (male) assistant director’s. (Assistant director of what, by the way? I assume Secret Service, but it should have been said explicitly.) Also, the female character is “her” or “she.” No name, and that bugged me. Even if I know the names from a previous book in a series or from a blurb, I want to know names as soon as possible. Because of the no name and being in another POV, I didn’t really connect with this female character.

What do you think? Comment and vote! 🙂

First Pages: “Maine” and “Summer Rental”

Today’s first-page challenge: “Maine” by J. Courtney Sullivan and “Summer Rental” by Mary Kay Andrews.

Which first page is groovier? “Maine” by J. Courtney Sullivan.
In “Maine,” I get a better sense of place and character. I’m piqued about Alice and want to find out more about her and her life. Plus, smoking is so taboo now, but here’s this more than 60-year-old woman who smokes. Yeah, the fact she was smoking actually hooked me. (Side note: Nah, I don’t smoke.)  Plus I can identify with the fact she watches life at a distance.

One issue I had with “Summer Rental” was too much scene-setting. Like with the Koontz book, we have rain hitting a car windshield. Try to be more different. I do like the fact the character is willing to act on impulse. The page also leaves me wondering why she needs a new life and what that new life is going to be like.

Vote for the page you prefer.

Which First Page Is Groovier? King Book vs. Koontz Book

Today we’re doing books by two big-time authors: Stephen King and Dean Koontz. King’s book is “Full Dark, No Stars.” Koontz’s book is “What the Night Knows.”

King’s book (the first page at least) is in first person. Koontz’s is in third. Tomorrow I will probably compare two books in third person. I’ve noticed that many, if not most, examples of great writing that agents, editors and writing coaches trot out are in first person. My guess as to why is that voice is more evident in first person, as is the reader’s closeness to the narrator. These mostly first-person examples can be frustrating for people who write primarily in third person. For this blog, I aim to give third person its fair shake. And, yeah, comparing a first-person POV vs. a third-person POV for this post might be unfair, but oh well! 🙂

WHICH IS GROOVIER? Stephen King’s first page.

King opens with a punch: a man in 1930 is confessing to murdering his wife. Instant hook in the first paragraph. I love the language, too: “tupping,” “cozened,” “beating down his quite normal objections.” Fits the time period and gives us an idea that this narrator is basically matter of fact and can see other perspectives–but is flawed. (He knew his son was right to object to helping him with the crime but persisted in getting the son to help him.) The second paragraph works, too; I like reading it after the hook and punch of the first paragraph. King lost me for a few seconds at the end of the page when the letter writer talks about where he is now (prison). I don’t want to hear about that yet. I want to read more about the wife killing.

Koontz opens with death, too, and some mystery: why does it not matter where or when these events happened? His first page has some good points, but overall the amount of scene setting prevents me from getting hooked. I don’t care about a procession of beeches or the rain. Give me murders, please.

King’s first page is groovier, but I think both pages could have benefited by staying with the hook more.

Agree? Disagree?  Vote for your page in the poll.

“Fingersmith” vs. “Tipping the Velvet” — Which First Page Is Groovier?

Today we are comparing the first pages of two of Sarah Waters’ books: Fingersmith and Tipping the Velvet.

WHICH FIRST PAGE IS GROOVIER? “Tipping the Velvet” wins.

Both first pages are quite good, but “Tipping the Velvet” has extra oomph. Waters’ voice is what carries these first pages. No overarching conflict is inherent, but I don’t care because the writing is so good and engaging.

“Tipping the Velvet” draws me in more. I have no desire for seafood and oysters, but by golly, I want to witness, touch and gape over one of these Whitstable oysters. I can picture the town and the oysters as if I were there right now. One reason this opening works: this way of life is unfamiliar to me–and to most people, I reckon. We’re drawn in by the possibility of learning about this person who was born in an oyster parlor. Like we want to touch or taste these oysters, we want to get to know the narrator.

“Fingersmith,” like “Tipping the Velvet,” begins with back story. And the back story in “Fingersmith,” while not bad per se, is not as engaging as in “Tipping the Velvet.”  The first page of “Fingersmith” does paint a compelling picture of an orphan and uses nice phrases (for example, “drunken woman catching at the ribbons of my dress”). Also books in the time period it is set in began with lots of back story. In this sense, “Fingersmith” fits great.
An important lesson: if you begin with back story, your voice and your writing better be extremely engaging.

Agree? Disagree? Take the poll.

Ellen’s First Page vs. Portia’s First Page

OK, here we go! For the first comparison, I thought it would be fun to compare a book by Ellen DeGeneres and another by her wife, Portia.

Ellen’s first page is here. Read the first page of “A Message from the Author” (really a half page, has “1” at the bottom if you go through “Search Inside”).

Portia’s is here. Read the first page of the prologue (page 3).

WHICH IS GROOVIER? Portia wins!

Portia began with a prologue, which is a no-no for many people. I’m not crazy about prologues myself, but this one drew me in right away. Portia sets the stage immediately: who is this “he”? (The answer is an eating disorder.) Her method of humanizing her eating disorder is awesome and lets her get away with inserting backstory. Her prose is engaging and straightforward. She does not overuse “I” (overuse happens sometimes in memoirs and in first-person POV books). The conflict is very clear: this woman is battling an eating disorder and has since she was a child.

She should have just called the prologue “Chapter One.” We’re primarily discussing first pages, but if you must have prologues, keep them short. Ideally, they should not be more than three pages. This prologue is a bit too long.

Now for Ellen: Ellen’s humor shines through, but her setup is confusing. First, she has “A Message from the Author.” Is this like a prologue? Or is it chapter one? Are we supposed to read it? Who knows? The book begins in full force on page 9 with “The Brunch Bunch.” I think Ellen would have been better off diving right into “The Brunch Bunch” and not bothering with “A Message from the Author.” At least move it to the end. Ellen is a funny gal, and “A Message from the Author” is so solemn, so serious. At least give “A Message from the Author ”a better title.

All that said, her humor is engaging, and getting into the book was easy. The conflict and mystery in Portia’s page drew me in more, though. If you go for humor over mystery, you might prefer Ellen’s page.

Agree? Disagree?

Which Is Groovier?

Hey, everyone. A big part of what I am going to do with this blog is compare two books’ first pages. You know all the stuff agents and editors say: ground the reader, hook the reader, establish a conflict, make the reader want more, and avoid overly descriptive and static prose. I’ll be looking for these elements and more. The blog will focus on GLBT works but is not limited to it.

If you’re an author (for any age and any genre) and interested in having your first page here, drop me an email. A few points to keep in mind:

– At least the first page of your work must be accessible online somewhere (for example, on Amazon.com through the “Look Inside” feature and/or the Kindle sample option). If it’s not online–like if you have not published your work yet–I could probably get it up on the blog.

– No poetry, please (unless your first page includes poetry, then have at it).

– Be prepared for constructive criticism from me and other readers.

For readers: Please remain polite. Point out what was done right and what might need improvement. The sandwich method works pretty well (positive, negative, positive).