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.

1 comment:

  1. I really like this. I'm intrigued about the character and what's going to happen next. I like the idea of breaking into a book store. I did assume it was the main character, and it didn't bother me that he wasn't named yet.

    I also tripped over "scorched sensation," so I think Michelle's suggestion was good. The same for "needed to disappear".

    If he's trying to break in, I would think he'd want to be as quiet as possible, so I'd suggest to change his whispering about someone having already broken in to a thought instead.

    Beyond that, I think you should look at punctuation/formatting. But otherwise, I really enjoyed this. Best of luck with it!

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