Saturday, November 29, 2014

Fall 1st Hop Critique 11

I'll give a shot at some first page comments. Keep in mind that feedback on a first page is subjective by nature. What does and does not catch the eye is going to vary by person. Each writer must weigh the comments they get against their own judgement and make the changes that resonate with them.

The hop is now closed. Be sure to finish up your critiques. Writers at the beginning and ending of the list should critique each other. If you have a revision, you can ask for feedback on the #Fall1stHop hashtag. 
Query Hop coming in December so stay tuned!
The random number generator picks 47! 
Here is the first page without comments:

Adult Urban Fantasy


 “its one book,” he mumbled into the darkness. “What’s the big deal?
Lowering his fevered head to the frosted pane of glass, he tried to calm his pounding heart beat. Winter wind clutched at the scorched sensation emanating from his body, his breath steaming the window of the book store
For the last three days he’d gone inside, browsing, inspecting the collection, listening as she refused to sell the books.
Tonight, however, With the last car’s departure from the parking lot, he’d  hunkered down amidst the oaks and pines to wait for the store to close. The wild tangle of  trees and underbrush kept his car almost invisible to the owner.
“Don’t do this, son,” his father’s voice lectured him even though he hadn’t seen the old man in five years.
I can do something about it tonight.I don’t have any other choice.
Steep roof lines and a white-washed wrap-around porch formed a silhouette against the charcoal sky as he crouched on the balls of his feet to inspect the window frames. Wires and components for an alarm system hung in a jumbled mess beneath the sill. “Someone’s broken in before,” he whispered. “This will be easy.”
A slight movement stilled his body against the pale siding. He needed to disappear into the sparse foliage lining the flower boxes.The crack of  whipping branches dropping pine needles onto the cedar shingles sounded like footsteps. Nothing else moved, he was still alone.
Relief washed through him,but the scorching fire in his chest erupted into white hot flames.

And with my crazy comments: 

Adult Urban Fantasy


 “iIts one book,” he mumbled into the darkness. “What’s the big deal?
Lowering his fevered head to the frosted pane of glass, he tried to calm his pounding heart beat(My experience has taught me to avoid starting sentences with -ing verbs or at least limit to a few in the manuscript. It's considered lazy writing. You might want to skip it on the first page by rearranging and using 'and.') Winter wind clutched at the scorched sensation (simplify) heat emanating from his body, his breath steaming the window of the book store.
For the last three days he’d gone inside,(I think this is understood.)  browseding, inspecting the collection, listening as she the proprietor refused to sell the books.(The first sentence indicated it was one particular book.)
Tonight, however, wWith the last car’s departure from the parking lot, he’d  hunkered down in his vehicle amidst the oaks and pines to wait for the store to close. The wild tangle of  trees and underbrush kept his car almost invisible to the owner. (The prior sentence makes it sound like he's hiding in the trees, out in the weather. Now he's been in his car. Clarify.)
“Don’t do this, son,” his father’s voice lectured him even though he hadn’t seen the old man in five years.
I can do something about it tonight.I don’t have There isn't any other choice. (My gut says don't start with I again.)
Steep roof lines and a white-washed wrap-around porch formed a silhouette against the charcoal sky as he crouched on the balls of his feet to inspect the window frames. Wires and components for an alarm system hung in a jumbled mess beneath the sill. “Someone’s broken in before,” he whispered. “This will be easy.”
A slight movement stilled his body against the pale siding. He needed to disappear into the sparse foliage lining the flower boxes.(Combine? A slight movement froze him against the siding, urging him to hunch down into the sparse foliage lining the flower boxes.) The crack of  whipping branches dropping pine needles onto the cedar shingles sounded like footsteps. Nothing else moved., he was still alone.
Relief washed through him, but the scorching fire in his chest erupted into white hot flames. (Pretty intense ending. Something is obviously going on beyond the normal with this character or that's my guess. If that's not the case that some supernatural force is working on him, I caution you not to put too much emotion into the story before we care about the character. I'd use some little trick soon to garner sympathy for him. He performs some kindness or does something honorable. His conscience troubles him for his deed. Something that swings our sympathy to him.)   

I'm wondering if this is starting with the main character or someone else. It sounds sort of like this person is sick and that leads me to guess we're not dealing with the main character. Or maybe it's because he's never named that I guess he's not the main.

It certainly raises questions in me. I want to know more and would read on. 

I hope this helps.

Friday, November 28, 2014

Fall 1st Hop Critique 10

I'll give a shot at some first page comments. Keep in mind that feedback on a first page is subjective by nature. What does and does not catch the eye is going to vary by person. Each writer must weigh the comments they get against their own judgement and make the changes that resonate with them.

The hop is now closed. Be sure to finish up your critiques. Writers at the beginning and ending of the list should critique each other. If you have a revision, you can ask for feedback on the #Fall1stHop hashtag. 
Query Hop coming in December so stay tuned!
The random number generator picks 13! 
Here is the first page without comments:
Black Bird – NA Post-apocalyptic Romance
An ear-splitting growl cut through the trees, and Rab lost his footing on the slippery path. His backside hit the ground with a muffled smack, and a wave of pain shot down his spine. “Ow,” he said, rotating his neck to ease the soreness and assure himself that no one had witnessed his fall. Although he hadn’t laid eyes on another person since he’d left home four days ago, it seemed natural to check. His breath caught at movement over his left shoulder.
Up a steep incline, a girl approached an enormous two-horned beast with her hand extended. Its hind legs teetered inches from a rocky overhang but the girl seemed unaware of the danger a cornered animal posed. Rab forgot his injury and jumped to his feet, running up the hill while grasping for the bow at his waist.
As he drew near, he slowed his pace so the sound of his footsteps wouldn’t surprise the girl. She’d crept even closer and stood only yards away from her quarry. The beast blustered and swung its head in a strange sideways motion. Unsure of what to do next, Rab searched his memories for knowledge about this breed he believed descended from the ancient bison. Only one fact came to mind—that without warning this species could gather great speed to charge its prey.

And with my crazy comments:
Black Bird – NA Post-apocalyptic Romance
An ear-splitting growl cut through the trees, and Rab (stumbled, losing his footing?) lost his footing on the slippery path. His backside hit the ground with a muffled smack, and a wave of pain shot down his spine. “Ow,” he said, rotating his neck to ease the soreness and assure himself that no one had witnessed his fall.(Wouldn't he be checking on whatever made that growl instead? If it startled him enough to cause him to fall, you'd think he'd be worried. And fear is a stronger emotion than embarrassment.) Although he hadn’t laid eyes on another person since he’d left home four days ago(The first part of this is a great tidbit of info.), it seemed natural to check. His breath caught at movement over his left shoulder.
Up a steep incline, a girl of all things (Something to indicate his surprise.) approached an enormous two-horned beast with her hand extended.(Feels like there should be some description of the girl or her dress to give us an idea of the world. Not so important how she looks as to hint at this world. Are her clothes homemade? Is she carrying anything?) Its hind legs teetered inches from a rocky overhangcomma but the girl seemed unaware of the danger a cornered animal posed. (Rab seems to know about animals. He hasn't seen anyone in four days. I'm wondering if they live rough or have cities.)Rab forgot his injury(I didn't know he had one. It's just a bump and a bruise, right? Maybe he jumps stiffly to his feet.) and jumped to his feet, running up the hill while grasping for the bow at his waist.
As he drew near, he slowed his pace so the sound of his footsteps wouldn’t surprise the girl. She’d crept even closer and stood only yards away from her quarry. The beast blustered and swung its head in a strange sideways motion. Unsure of what to do next, Rab searched his memories for knowledge about this breed he believed descended from the ancient bison. Only one fact came to mind—that without warning this species could gather great speed to charge its prey. (I think you're trying to show us something important in the last two sentences, but they slow down the pace.) Rab froze. Was that an ancient bison? Weren't those extinct? His grip on the bow tensed as a memory surfaced. Bison charged without warning.

Pretty solid entry, but I think there are a few places to up the tension and make the pace faster. It made me curious about the world and what would happen next.
I hope this helps. 

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Holiday Query Hop

Is your query ready for help?



The Holiday Query Hop will start in December. All that's needed is a blog and a query. You'll have two weeks to sign up for the hop. Then simply critique the five queries before and the five queries after yours. Check back at my blog to see if your query was one of those randomly selected for a critique from me. And we might have special surprise critique guests! Who knows who they'll be. Anyone from published friends to agents! 

The Holiday Query Hop is open to finished and unfinished manuscripts. If unfinished state that where the word count would normally go. Include all parts of the query you would send to an agent including the bio, greeting, and closing.

December will be here soon. Get those blogs started and shine up your query. Then come back here next week to add your link to the blog hop.

Happy Holidays!



Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Fall 1st Hop Critique 9

I'll give a shot at some first page comments. Keep in mind that feedback on a first page is subjective by nature. What does and does not catch the eye is going to vary by person. Each writer must weigh the comments they get against their own judgement and make the changes that resonate with them.

The hop is now closed. Be sure to finish up your critiques. Writers at the beginning and ending of the list should critique each other. If you have a revision, you can ask for feedback on the #Fall1stHop hashtag. 
Query Hop coming in December so stay tuned!
The random number generator picks 35! 
Here is the first page without comments:
YA Murder Mystery
A police car blocked the main road into my school’s burnt umber brick and whitewashed doors. I raised an eyebrow at it, nibbled a nail, and tripped out of the school minibus.
For April, the spring air rose way too crisply and held grass thick with swords of dew, and I struggled with the starched collar of my uniform as moisture crept up my arms and into that annoying air pocket between jumper and shirt. I loosened my tie and shook the wrinkles from my skirt.
“Agnetha! Come on.”
I jolted. Whilst I preferred Vera not laughing at me, I winced at her whining tone. Like I cared if we were late. First lesson on Fridays was Spanish, and I was already failing.
I walked to where she stood and rested a hand on one of her wrists with a nod towards the main entrance.
“Look.”
As she froze to follow my now-absent gaze, I wandered ahead and kicked at the flowerbed along the front lawn path. I’d have dived into the mushrooms and roses there instead of bumbling my way to class. I snapped off one pink-faced fool and tossed it into the mud, and then lifted a mushroom, shifting earth and shoe-dirt and wilderness as I tucked the fungus behind my ear.
A hand on my shoulder, and Vera had caught up. She skipped past me, bubbling with incessant words. “What’s up with the police car?”
“You think I know?” I eyed the blue, yellow and white chequers. Police cars had a weird kind of beauty.

And with my crazy comments:
YA Murder Mystery
A police car blocked the main road into my school’s burnt umber brick and whitewashed doors. I raised an eyebrow at it, nibbled a nail, and tripped out of the school minibus. (This second sentence falls flat for me.) I stare at it as I trip out of the school minibus, nibbling on a fingernail.
For April, the spring air rose way too crisply and held grass thick with swords of dew (I think you're trying to say it's hot, but being way too fancy. And I kind of expected something more about the police car) For April, the air stifled, leaving me struggling ... and I struggled with the starched collar of my uniform as moisture crept up my arms and into that annoying air pocket between jumper and shirt. I loosened my tie and shook the wrinkles from my skirt. (I do like the rest of the paragraph but wonder if we shouldn't have something more important or some wonder from her about the police car after she shakes out her skirt.  Such as: Why were the police here?)
“Agnetha! Come on.”
I jolted. (This sounds awkward and you say the same thing in two sentences. You only need it once.) I winced at Vera's whining tone. Whilst I preferred Vera not laughing at me, I winced at her whining tone. Like I cared if we were late. The first lesson today on Fridays (feels like you're feeding us information. Does the day matter?) was Spanish, and I was already failing.
I walked to where she stood and rested a hand on one of her wrists with a nod towards the main entrance.
“Look.”
As she followed my froze to follow my now-absent gaze, I wandered ahead and kicked at the flowerbed along the front lawn path. I’d have If only I could dived into the mushrooms and roses there instead of bumbling my way to class. I snapped off one a pink-faced fool and tossed it into the mud, and then lifted a mushroom, shifting earth and shoe-dirt and wilderness as I tuckeding the fungus behind my ear.
A hand on my shoulder, and Vera had caught up. She Vera skipped past me, bubbling with incessant words. “What’s up with the police car?” (Wouldn't Vera have seen it too when she got off the bus? Why would she have to be told to look at it? It just doesn't seem natural. Maybe if Agnetha redirects her to look at it again. Or if Vera mentions it without having to be directed that way.)
“You think I know?” I eyed the blue, yellow and white chequers. Police cars had a weird kind of beauty. (I feel like we have a main character with a very unique perspective here. Agnetha is interesting.)

To me this passage feels a little stilted or forced, like the writing is trying too hard. It doesn't come across as natural. It's being fancy for the sake of fanciness, not to create a feeling of stiffness in the character. Getting off the school bus is something Agnetha does everyday. It should have a casual feel.

Also why direct Vera to look at the police car. Wouldn't she see it and mention it on her own?

Where the first page could be formal and stiff is about the police car. Maybe you should create a little more ominous feel to the police car. The last paragraph would be a great place to put a little creepiness.

I like this character and this passage made me curious about what happens next.

I hope this helps. 

Monday, November 24, 2014

Query Questions with Lydia Moed

Writers have copious amounts of imagination. It's what makes their stories so fantastic. But there's a darker side to so much out of the box thinking. When a writer is in the query trenches, their worries go into overdrive. They start pulling out their hair and imagine every possible disaster.

 



Here to relieve some of that endless worrying is a new series of posts called Query Questions. I'll ask the questions which prey on every writer's mind, and hopefully take some of the pain out of querying. These are questions that I've seen tossed around on twitter and writing sites like Agent Query Connect. They are the type of questions that you need answers for the real expert--agents!

I'm so happy to finally have a new interview for everyone! Please do mention new questions in the comments or on twitter if anyone has suggestions. It's about time to add in some new ones.

We're back into the query slush answers with Lydia Moed of The Rights Factory. A big thanks to her for taking the time. Anyone who loves Firefly is welcome here!


Is there a better or worse time of year to query?
In addition to being a regular associate agent, I also handle foreign rights for my agency’s children’s and YA list. As a result, I’m pretty busy around the big book fairs - March/April and September/October are my busiest times of year. Over the summer and during the winter holidays I have a lot less going on on the foreign rights side, so I’ll tend to respond to queries more quickly at those times.

Does one typo or misplaced comma shoot down the entire query?
Not at all - everybody makes mistakes! And hey, if you didn’t notice it when you were proofreading the thing nine times before sending, there’s a chance I might not notice it either.

Do you look at sample pages without fail or only if the query is strong?
I ask for the query first, and request sample pages only if the query intrigues me.

Do you have an assistant or intern go through your queries first or do you check all of them?
It’s all me!

If the manuscript has a prologue, do you want it included with the sample pages?
Absolutely - if the prologue is an integral part of the story then of course I want to see it. If it’s not, then the manuscript probably shouldn’t have a prologue at all.

Some agencies mention querying only one agent at a time and some say query only one agent period. How often do you pass a query along to a fellow agent who might be more interested?
If I get a strong query that I think might appeal to a colleague, I’ll forward it on. Occasionally that happens several times in a week, but sometimes months will go by and I don’t get anything I think I should forward on. I love it when I do manage to put a colleague in touch with an author they really connect with, though.

Do you prefer a little personalized chit-chat in a query letter, or would you rather hear about the manuscript?
I’d rather hear about the manuscript, to be honest - I like to be reminded if I’ve met an author in person or been in touch with them in any way previously, but apart from that I don’t really need to know how an author heard of me or why they think their book would fit my list. If the author has read about me and knows what I like, I can usually tell just by reading about the manuscript.

Most agents have said they don’t care whether the word count/genre sentence comes first or last. But is it a red flag if one component is not included?
If I were already interested in the manuscript it wouldn’t make me less keen, but I would definitely ask for clarification when I requested material. The mechanical stuff about word count and genre is the easiest part of the query to write, so there’s no reason not to include it!
  
Should writers sweat the title of their book (and character names) or is that something that is often changed by publishers?
Definitely think about it, but don’t get too attached. It’s great to have a strong, attention-grabbing title, but there are a lot of reasons why a publisher might want to change it to something even better.
  
Many agents say they don't care if writers are active online. Could a twitter account or blog presence by a writer tip the scales in getting a request or offer? And do you require writers you sign to start one?
It wouldn’t tip the scales, but I do like to see that a writer has a good web presence and knows what they’re doing online. I encourage my clients to develop some kind of web presence, even if it’s just a lander page, but I’m not fussy about whether they prefer Twitter, Tumblr, long-form blogging or any of the other options out there.

Some writers have asked about including links to their blogs or manuscript-related artwork. I’m sure it’s not appropriate to add those links in a query, but are links in an email signature offensive?
Not at all - link away! If I like the query, the first thing I’ll do is Google you, so adding the link in your email just saves me a step. The link could be in your email signature, or it could be part of your bio - I really don’t mind.

If a writer makes changes to their manuscript due to feedback should they resend the query or only if material was requested?
Only if material was requested.

 What bio should an author with no publishing credits include?
A couple of sentences about yourself (what you do for a living, a link to your blog if you have one, any interesting hobbies, anything that might make me think ‘hmm, they seem like an interesting person’) and a couple about what makes you a good person to write this book. Did your childhood in India inspire you to write a story set in the Mughal Empire? Does your Japanese heritage inform your Asian steampunk novel? Did your PhD in crustacean biology help you create your alien species? I want to know that stuff, so stick it in your bio.

What does ‘just not right for me’ mean to you?
Usually it means ‘I am just not excited by this query, and I cannot come up with a more concrete and helpful reason why it doesn’t appeal to me’.

What themes are you sick of seeing?
Basically any of the common tropes of YA science fiction/fantasy (society divided into Named Classes, starcrossed lovers and/or love triangle, pointlessly oppressive regimes and all the rest of it) - I’m open to YA, but not if it contains any of these tropes. Pirate crews or similar ‘ensemble cast’ situations with only one female member (inevitably described as ‘feisty’). Any fantasy set in Western European Fantasyland (cloaks, taverns, broadswords, wizards etc).

Do you consider yourself a hands-on, editorial type of agent?
Absolutely.

What’s the strangest/funniest thing you’ve seen in a query?
I’ll tell you some stories if we meet in real life, but I’m not going to embarrass anybody on the internet - even anonymously.

What three things are at the top of your submission wish list?
1. I’m looking for great writing by authors from marginalised or underrepresented groups. We need new perspectives, and I’m very interested in hearing from anybody who can help to make my favourite genres less white, straight, and abled/ablist.
2. I’m developing a reputation as an SFF agent, which is great because I love the genre, but I’m looking for other kinds of writing too. I’d particularly love some well-researched historical fiction set in a lesser-known time or place.
3. I’m very interested in writing that explores what happens after the apocalypse, as people learn to cope with the change and try to create a new society that fits their new circumstances (e.g. Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel, Warren Ellis’s Freakangels, the TV show Defiance).

What are some of your favorite movies or books to give us an idea of your tastes? 
Books: Mervyn Peake and Angela Carter are probably the two authors who have had the greatest influence on my reading tastes. My more recent favourites include China Miéville, Nalo Hopkinson, Catherynne M Valente (I’m not fond of her YA but I love her writing for adults), Frances Hardinge, Philip Reeve and Margaret Elphinstone. I also love classical and pre-modern Japanese literature. My ideal narrative non-fiction writer is Tim Mackintosh-Smith: informative, erudite, highly entertaining, feels like a friend of yours by the end of the book.
Movies/TV: I love any film directed by Naoko Ogigami - my favourite is Kamome Shokudo (‘Seagull Diner’). I’m also fond of Wes Anderson and Studio Ghibli - I’d love to find a manuscript with a Miyazaki feel to it. TV obsessions of the last few years include Firefly (of course), Orphan Black, Arctic Air, Defiance, the Japanese drama Jin, and the Korean dramas Sunkyungkwan Scandal and Tree With Deep Roots.

 -------------------------------------------------


Lydia Moëd is an associate agent at The Rights Factory in Toronto. She came to Canada from the UK, where she worked as a foreign rights executive for UK children’s publishers. She has also worked as a freelance literary translator and editor, and as a bookseller at Foyles in London. In addition to handling foreign rights for The Rights Factory's children's and YA list, she is also building her own list of clients for representation.

For fiction, she is most interested in acquiring science fiction and fantasy, though she also enjoys magic realism, historical fiction and stories inspired by folklore from around the world. For non-fiction, she is interested in narrative non-fiction on a wide variety of topics, including history, popular science, biography and travel writing. She would love to bring more translated literature into English, and particularly welcomes queries by authors from marginalised groups.


Saturday, November 22, 2014

Getting the Call from Kim Long

So happy to share another Query Kombat success story! Sometimes it takes time and a little revision. You can find the agent round entry for Star Light, Star Bright here. Congrats to Kim!


A couple years ago I decided I wanted to write a book. I always enjoyed writing, and every now and then I'd get inspired for a few weeks and work diligently at putting words onto paper, but it wasn't something I took seriously. One night I was reading Game of Thrones and thought how great it'd be if there was a book solely about Arya Stark.

I've always considered Arya the most interesting (even though there's other characters I love, like Tyrion), but there's so many characters in Martin's books that we don't see enough of her. So, with this bright idea, I closed the word document containing my legal thriller and started a YA fantasy that focused on a fourteen-year-old girl. Fast forward to a year-and-a-half later. Manuscript is finished. I write my query (getting suggestions from Query Tracker folks) and send it out.

Crickets.

I enter it in Pitch Madness.

Crickets.

I enter Sun & Snow.

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. 

I decide to read some YA fantasy. (Now there's an idea--one I should have had much earlier, but hey, better late then never.) I learn that my original ideas aren't so original, and, overall, I'm not sure there's anything really unique or spectacular to make my YA fantasy stand out. I do a complete overhaul and decide to query one more time. I also enter a few more contests (The Writer's Voice, LIke a Virgin, etc. - same crickets as before.) But during this time, I also come to the conclusion that it's probably best to move on and write something completely different. Because the one thing I did learn over the two years was how much I really loved writing. Why hadn't I been doing this earlier? Oh that's right, I have a day job and a zillion other things to do. But I didn't want to stop, and with tons of ideas popping into my head, how could I?

So I send out my last batch of queries for the YA in late January 2014 and start an MG fantasy. The words came easier this time--much easier, as did pacing, showing vs. telling, the query letter, everything really. Apparently, that YA novel had taught me something. I finished in early May 2014 with my eye on Query Kombat. I entered before my beta readers finished it and was thrilled when Michelle picked my entry, Star Light, Star Bright, for her team. I advanced a few rounds, but the greatest part was all the incredibly positive comments I received. Overall, people loved the query letter, the idea, and the voice. I was definitely onto something!

I sent out five queries in late May and then a few more in July. I received two requests for fulls out of the first six queries I sent. Wow. I couldn't believe it! Between July and early September I sent out a few more queries (basically, whenever I read about someone who said she/he had received a rejection a year after getting a full request, I got scared and sent out a few more queries). The request rate stayed pretty constant. I had six full requests out of 22 queries.

Then in early October I got an email from an agent saying she loved the book, but thought certain parts could be more developed. She passed, but said if I felt like revising, please send it her way. At the time, I had been revising one of the parts at issue, having come to a similar conclusion. I really liked the way the revisions were going and, even though the agent had passed, I was hopeful she would like the revisions . . . and that's when Agent #2 emailed that she loved the initial manuscript and would like to offer representation. But what about the revisions I loved so much? Since I liked the changes, I quickly completed the revisions, notified the other agents of the offer, sent the new version to everyone (including the agent who had indicated she'd love to look at a revised version) and waited.

I ended up with multiple offers, and everyone I talked to was great. But Sara Crowe had been one of the first agents I queried, and when she emailed, "I LOVE this book," my heart skipped a beat. The ensuing conversation was just as amazing, and everyone says to go with your gut, so that's what I did. I'm thrilled to say I am now represented by Sara Crowe at Harvey Klinger.

Now, I know this is very long for a success story, but if I had said I wrote a book in three-and-a-half months, sent 22 queries, got six full requests, and an offer three-and-a-half months later from my dream agent, it would seem like things came very easy. They didn't. It was three years of writing, of rejection on the YA, of entering contests and not getting picked, and of getting no favorites in twitter contests. But persistence does pay off, as does knowing when it's time to try something new. My YA is still there, and there are parts of it I love and may try to rework some day, but the best thing I could have done was move onto something new. If I had any advice, that would be it--stick with it, use contests to get to know people and improve your writing, and don't get discouraged. Remember that we're in this for the long haul and for the love of the story.

**********


Kim Long is an attorney working in the Chicagoland area who, when not lawyering or writing, spends time drawing, bicycling, and becoming way too invested in her fantasy football and baseball teams. KimLongWritesHere@blogspot.com 

Friday, November 21, 2014

Fall 1st Hop Critique 8

I'll give a shot at some first page comments. Keep in mind that feedback on a first page is subjective by nature. What does and does not catch the eye is going to vary by person. Each writer must weigh the comments they get against their own judgement and make the changes that resonate with them.

The hop is now closed. Be sure to finish up your critiques. Writers at the beginning and ending of the list should critique each other. If you have a revision, you can ask for feedback on the #Fall1stHop hashtag. 
Query Hop coming in December so stay tuned!
The random number generator picks 9! We seem to be hitting a lot of low numbers.

Here is the first page without comments:

YA/Paranormal Revision #2: Updated 11/10/14 
“I Fold.” Spence set his cards down on the table. It was Ms. Edith and me now. I gave her my best poker face, not wanting to reveal the pair of aces resting in my hand. Ms. Edith, squinting at her hand, was moving it close to her face, and then farther to get a better view. I cleared my throat and pointed to the eyeglasses that rested neatly on top of her silver curls.

 “Raise a quarter,” she challenged. I pondered her face, and then my own hand.

 “Fold, let’s see ‘em.”
Ms. Edith lay her full house down “pay up Felix,” she stopped short, looking at a spot behind me. Spence and I turned to look.

A light, growing brighter shimmered in the air. Now it was our turn to squint. “Well, it’s about darn time!” Ms. Edith grinned and stood up. Shoving her pile of cash toward Spence and me, she straightened her skirt and walked toward the light. “Bye fellas,” she waved and stepped into the light and disappeared, leaving me gaping after her in shock.

“What just happened?" I asked Spence.
“Edith moved on to a better place,” he said.

"Moved on, how?" I hadn’t seen any spirits move on before, which made me curious; how did we move on and where do we go?
“When we have fulfilled our purpose in the afterlife, we move on to our final place.


“Final place, as in heaven and hell, those are real?”“Wow kid, I figured you knew.”  

With my crazy comments:
YA/Paranormal Revision #2: Updated 11/10/14 
“I Ffold.” Spence set his cards down on the table. It was Ms. Edith and me now. (Maybe combine these? Spence set his cards on the table, leaving Ms. Edith and me.) I gave her my best poker face, not wanting to reveal(cut words and use 'to hide'?) the pair of aces resting in my hand. Ms. Edith, squinting at her hand cards(to avoid repeating 'hand'), was moving it them closer to her face, and then farther to get for a better view. I cleared my throat and pointed to the eyeglasses that rested neatly on top of her silver curls. (Here you could give a hint that she's a ghost, which I learned at the end. glowing, silver curls?)

 “Raise a quarter,” she challenged. I pondered her face, and then my own (I have a hard time cutting the word 'own' too, but it isn't needed.) hand.

 “Fold, let’s see ‘em.”
Ms. Edith lay her full house down.pPay up, Felix,” Sshe stopped short, looking at a spot behind me. Spence and I turned to look. (Looking can be assumed.)

A light, growing brighter shimmered in the air, growing brighter. Now it was our turn to squint. (I think I'd put a paragraph break here.) “Well, it’s about darn time!” Ms. Edith grinned and stood up. Shoving her pile of cash toward Spence and me, she straightened her skirt and walked toward the light. “Bye, fellas.,Sshe waved and stepped into it the light and... disappeared, leaving me gaping after her in shock. 

“What just happened?" I asked Spence. 
“Edith moved on to a better place,” he said.  (You can take off this tag.)

"Moved on, how?" I hadn’t seen any spirits move on before, which made me curious (This is understood.); how did we move on and where do we go? (Here it would be great to get a little more information. Just a sentence or two of quick background information. Does he know many spirits? How long has he known about spirits? Is this something he deals with everyday? Is Spence his mentor/boss what?)
(This needs it's own paragraph. And now you need a tag.) “When we have fulfilled our purpose in the afterlife, we move on to our final place," Spence said.

“Final place, as in heaven and hell?, Tthose are real?”“Wow, kid, I figured you knew.”  

I like how this piece starts with a card game and I love the surprise ending. But I think it suffers from a lack of exposition that could make it so much richer! 

We don't know anything about the character here. Is Spence the boss/mentor of Felix? Felix already knows about ghosts, but yet doesn't know specifics. It's interesting and I wanted more in the 1st page to inform me a little about what was happening. And also maybe a hint that the lady was a ghost.

Pretty good first page and I liked the surprise. Hope this helps. 

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Fall 1st Hop Critique 7

I'll give a shot at some first page comments. Keep in mind that feedback on a first page is subjective by nature. What does and does not catch the eye is going to vary by person. Each writer must weigh the comments they get against their own judgement and make the changes that resonate with them.

The hop is now closed. Be sure to finish up your critiques. Writers at the beginning and ending of the list should critique each other. If you have a revision, you can ask for feedback on the #Fall1stHop hashtag. 
Query Hop coming in December so stay tuned!
The random number generator picks 36!

Here is the first page without comments:

MG Action-Adventure


The mess hall smells like tortillas.


"Mexican food!" I dash inside, just to make sure it's actually Mexican food and not Russian like last time. Sometimes the cooks like to keep us on our toes. “You’re training to be spies,” they tell us. “Check before you make assumptions.”


Only at the United States Spying Association School would the cooks tell us to “check before making assumptions.”


My heart leaps when I see the spread of food. Rows of enchiladas and tortillas and tacos and burritos and Spanish rice lay out in front of me like a giant, gorgeous, glittering rainbow.


MEXICAN FOOD!!!!!!!


"YES!" I pump my fist in the air. Several people stare at me as I run back to my spot in line, but I ignore them.


Without looking up from his book--ew, it's Crime and Punishment--Alexander Joyner asks me, "So, is it actually Mexican food?"


"Yes! This school year is kicking off to a great start!" I bounce on my toes, grabbing a couple paper plates and distributing them: one for Alexander, who somehow manages to keep his book open with one hand; one for Jackie Davis, who's staring off into space as usual; and two for me, because I always get too much food and the paper plates are really flimsy.


"Better get three," Harold McCarthy says from in front of me without turning his head.


I stick out my tongue at the back of his head and grab a third plate.


With my crazy comments:
MG Action-Adventure


The mess hall smells like tortillas. Interesting that it says mess hall and not lunch room for an MG. That's a good kind of question to raise. But wouldn't tortillas have a lot less smell to them, than say, the spicy meat?


"Mexican food!" I dash inside, just to make sure it's actually Mexican food and not Russian like last time. Sometimes the cooks likepull a fast one (Because 'like' is less interesting and you used 'like' in the last sentence.) to keep us on our toes. “You’re training to be spies,” they tell us. “Check before you make assumptions.”


Only at the United States Spying Association School would the cooks tell us to “check before making assumptions.” (This directly repeats what's already been said. Try wording it differently.) Only at the United States Spying Association School can food smells lead you wrong.


My heart leaps when I see at (filtering) the spread of food. Rows of enchiladas and tortillas, and tacos and burritos, and Spanish rice lay out in front of me like in a giant, gorgeous, glittering rainbow.


MEXICAN FOOD!!!!!!! (I directly heard an editor at a writer conference during the 1st page critique time slot say to avoid doing this with exclamation points. Show the excitement with your prose and not the punctuation. Maybe something about how his stomach rumbles or his mouth drools. MG kids like drool.) Or even better, just use the fist pump from below and cut this.


"YES!" I pump my fist in the air. Several people Heads turn to stare at me as I run back to my spot in line, but I ignore them.


Without looking up from his book--ew, it's Crime and Punishment(I'd think it wouldn't matter so much what book, just the fact that he's reading to begin with.)--Alexander Joyner asks me, "So, is it actually Mexican food?" Interesting that he can't be bothered to look. That wouldn't really make a very good spy who I assume would have to be curious.


"Yes.! This school year is kicking off to a great start.!" I bounce on my toes, grabbing a couple of paper plates and distributing them: one for Alexander, who somehow manages to keep his book open with one hand; one for Jackie Davis, who's staring off into space as usual; and two for me, because I always get too much food and the paper plates are really flimsy.


"Better get three," Harold McCarthy says from in front of me without turning his head.


I stick out my tongue (I think rolling his eyes would be enough. The sticking out of his tongue seems too juvenile for MG.) at the back of his head and grab a third plate.

I can't really grab onto it, but I feel like something is missing here. We get that the character is very attached to Mexican food, but that's about all we know that he/she cares about. I do think you are wise not to get into why the character is at the school yet.

She/He's got a few friends as witnessed by the plate grabbing. But s/he acts younger than the MG age group because of the enthusiasm. I'm afraid such enthusiasm would get tiresome if it covers a whole book. Not to sound rough, but it makes the character seem a little cartoonish. 

Is there a reason s/he's so happy for the meal? Has it been long since s/he ate? Or long since s/he ate Mexican? What's motivating it? Giving a reason would help make the character seem more real.