Trained by reading hundreds of submissions, editors and agents often make their read/not-read decision on the first page. In a customarily formatted book manuscript with chapters starting about 1/3 of the way down the page (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type), there are 16 or 17 lines on the first page.
Here’s the question:
Would you pay good money to read the rest of the chapter? With 50 chapters in a book that costs $15, each chapter would be “worth” 30 cents.
So, before you read the excerpt, take 30 cents from your pocket or purse. When you’re done, decide what to do with those three dimes or the quarter and a nickel. It’s not much, but think of paying 30 cents for the rest of the chapter every time you sample a book’s first page.
Please judge by storytelling quality, not by genre or content—some reject an opening page immediately because of genre, but that’s not a good enough reason when the point is to analyze for storytelling strength.
This novel was number one on the New York Times hardcover fiction bestseller list for June 19, 2016. How strong is the opening page—would this narrative, all on its own, have hooked an agent if it came in from an unpublished writer? Following are what would be the first 17 manuscript lines of the prologue.
My vote and notes after the fold.Lieutenant Pierre Delacroix cursed himself for his overconfidence. He had taken a huge risk by sailing into the predawn twilight, hoping to get just a few miles closer to the rocky cliffs on the north side of St. Helena before sunup. A British frigate, one of the eleven guarding the remote island, appeared around the coast and turned in their direction. If his submarine were caught on the surface in broad daylight, the mission to free Napoleon Bonaparte from exile would be over before it began.
Delacroix lowered his spyglass and called down through the hatch. “Prepare to dive the boat!”
Three men quickly lowered the sail in the gusting wind. With the bright sun at his back, Delacroix took one last look at the approaching frigate before ducking below and closing the copper hatch. His nostrils flared at the rank odor of fifteen men packed together inside the cramped quarters.
“Did they spot us?” asked Yves Beaumont, a frown creasing his forehead. Though he kept his voice calm, his eyes flicked incessantly toward the closed portal, betraying his anxiety. The experienced alpinist had nonchalantly stood on ledges at heights that would cause normal men to faint in fear, but the idea of submerging inside the confines of a hollow metal and wooden tube terrified him.
This is The Emperor’s Revenge by Clive Cussler and Boyd Morrison. Was this opening page compelling to you?
My vote: yes.
Ah, a good, strong action narrative in an immediate scene that immerses us (pun intended) in the NOW of the story. The writing is clean and strong, the voice confident, and there’s a strong story question. I think the opening could be even stronger if the information in the following sentence from a later page were part of the second sentence here, when he calls for diving the boat:
They’d soon know if the sub would be able to withstand submerging in the open ocean.
For me, that would raise the stakes and add more jeopardy.
Your thoughts?
Turn the page for free by utilizing Amazon’s “Look inside” feature, and I recommend doing that if you have the time and interest. The Emperor’s Revenge is here.
Stop by my Monday “Flog a BookBubber” feature Flogging the Quill. BookBub is a website that offers free or very low cost ebooks. It is heavily used by self-publishers, though established authors are sometimes there.
We often see the meme on the Internet that self-published authors should have had editing done before they published. So the new Flog a BookBubber posts take a look at opening pages to see if that’s true. You can vote on turning the page and then on whether or not they should have sought an editor. Visit on Mondays and take a look.
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About Ray Rhamey
Ray Rhamey is the author of four novels and one writing craft book, Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling. He's also an editor of book-length fiction and designs book covers and interiors for Indie authors and small presses. His website, crrreative.com, offers an a la carte menu of creative services for writers and publishers. Learn more about Ray's books at rayrhamey.com.
I agree with most of what you say, and I found the attempt to free Bonaparte intriguing, but I have a literary bugaboo about ‘nostrils flaring.’ If I read that description (or several others like it) I literally (or literarily?) check out. It’s funny how personal word choice can be, and how immediate a sense of nope, not for me can be, even if everything else is doing well.
Jeanne, “nostrils flaring” (and “a frown creasing his forehead”) got under my skin, too, although I voted to turn the page.
I found myself pulled into the action. There was an immediate goal (to arrive at the cliffs of St. Helena before sunup) with tension and danger (British frigate around the bend).
I take it this is historical fiction, and I guess there were early subs that had sails? That gave me pause…in the first paragraph, I thought it was a sailboat.
Another stickler for me was Delacroix was “sailing into the predawn twilight” in the first paragraph, yet seconds later, as they lowered the sails, “the bright sun” was “at his back.” For me, that added confusion to the setting.
All in all, I’d give it a few more pages and then decide.
Mike, the inconsistency of the lighting really threw me off too…I think I would have been much more generous with this intro if I hadn’t started trying to puzzle that out.
The clunky writing was, for this sailor, overcome by the intrigue of the situation–and the submersible boat. There were submarines in Napoleon’s time? With sails? Huh.
However, intrigue alone will only take me so far. If in a couple of pages I’m finding little reason to care, I might ask for a refund.
I’m with Cap’n Don.
Me three.
Me four. The curiosity about the submarine with a sail during the time of Napoleon (is this steampunk?) would have kept me skimming in the bookstore.
Me five, even though I love history. Stodgy writing. Patrick O’Brian did it better.
Yep.
Would definitely read on. I was immediately interested in what was going on–even though that particular time and place historically speaking doesn’t usually grab me.
Start me off with some good action and a powerful story question and I’m in! 8-)
Flared nostrils, creased brows, gasps, and demands accompanied by fists pounding on tables are expected by bestseller readers. Since that’s what’s on offer, I don’t object, and like others, I find this opening works. Submarines in the nineteenth century? Didn’t know that. My actual first thought was that this was some variant of steampunk (about which I know nothing), or time-travel, involving modern technology being sent back to change history. Wrong again, Barry.
I would read onward and I enjoyed the first paragraph. However, there were a few points in the third and fourth paragraph that made me pull back – nostrils flaring, his eyes flicked incessantly.
Interesting plot, but definitely get it free from the library. Clunky, for sure. A
Mark your calendar, folks. I’m actually voting yes for a book that was written – well, co-written – by my arch-nemesis, the Clivester.
But I’m doing so solely on the premise: freeing Napoleon with a steampunk submarine. That’s pretty freaking cool, even I have to admit.
That said, the writing was stiff and klunky – if I were in a bookstore I’d have read a few more pages to see if the premise could overcome the writing.
Thanks for sharing this one, Ray. I may pick it up when it hits our local library.
I might … MIGHT… read on if I was a ten-year-old boy but otherwise it was one clunky intro. I especially found fault with his order to dive the boat. The boat? As opposed to what? But I guess with all the rest of the nonsense I suppose the sub may have had a helicopter so diving a boat would have been a helpful detail. I got the impression the aforementioned ten-year-old boy was going to wake up from a dream.
After the cover reveal (another author’s name heralded like a superhero with his bestseller status as a tagline) I was even more turned off. One author augmented (ghost written) by a sub (scuze the pun) hired hand. This shrieks of formula and an author resting on a rotting pile of laurel leaves. Not for me Josephine.
It’s clear this was a close call, and with such a premise it’s almost a crime. Should not have been so close. I voted yes, in a photo finish. All the reasons have been laid out, good and bad.
The Turtle of the American Revolution was the first submersible I know of, and a fascinating story, but just a one-man craft. I think “steampunk” is a good word for a vessel that can sail and carry fifteen men below the water. Just trying to rescue Napolean, by itself, would have carried me further whatever the style. Count of Monte Cristo is my all-time favorite.
BTW, um, what’s with the racing car wreck on the cover? If this involves time-travel I am so out.
Yes.
Kudos to my former blogmate, Boyd Morrison, who wrote it.
Nostril flares and creased foreheads sometimes operate just like “said” in dialogue. Do the job quickly without the distraction of overwrought writing. There are times to go deeper in reaction descriptions, but this opening is not one of them. I would definitely Turn the Page.
Though not sparkling, the narrative was competent. I agree with you about the line from a later page, Don. That may have worked well as the opening line. I also agree that the submarine was a tremendous hook. Even though I write historical fiction, I had to question whether this was true or alternate history. Either way, I would keep reading. Oh, and I looked it up. It’s true: https://www.loc.gov/exhibits/treasures/trr024.html
Believe it or not, I actually liked the opening. There were definitely some ways I would’ve described things differently. Overall the story interested me. Looking at the comments, the variety of likes and dislikes is interesting. It just goes to show a writer can’t please all readers with the writing style.
The klunk stopped me cold (to iterate a cliché).
‘Nuff said.
Well, not quite enough…
For me, bad writing overcomes good story every time. I can never get past the Klunk to find the story. Unfortunately I read like a writer.
Ray et al,
For those of you wondering about subs in that day and age, the first sub was known as the Turtle (because it looked like one) and was constructed by an American in 1775, therefore predating this story. The Turtle’s job was to attach munitions to British Royal Navy vessels in American waters, by boring holes into the hulls. Her few runs all ended in failure, mostly because the hulls were clad in copper and the hand boring machine–basically a brace and bit–aboard the Turtle couldn’t penetrate it.
As for the page, I was joggled by “the pre-dawn twilight.” Get your times together, Gentlemen. And then the other cliches!! I knew the authors weren’t planning to get us in deep with these characters.
The unwieldy ‘prepare to dive the boat’ coupled with a submarine that has sails overtook any desire to read more. While the latter might be historically correct, it didn’t *seem* credible enough to trust what I would find if I continued to read.
I’m a first-time commenter and a bit late to the party, but if I may…
My vote: Probably would turn a page or two, because I like history … but would not spend good money on the book.
The writing seems to me second-rate and “wannabe,” as others have noted (cliches, etc.). It also sounds show-offy of historical research without real imagination or vision to enlighten the story. There’s a lack of visual, descriptive interest, so I don’t feel as though I’m there in the scene. The characters’ names, details, and actions/reactions seem stereotyped.
I found the opening paragraph dull until its last sentence — which should have been its first.
I had once read a little about early submarines, which is why I’d probably read a few pages further — to learn more. But this first page signaled that I’d likely face a struggle to ignore the lame writing along the way.
It just occurred to me that this writing comes across to me as that of an academic historian trying to inject a bit of narrative into a historical tome, rather than as the craft of a genuine fiction writer.
Well, these are good lessons to keep in mind as I work on my own historical novel! Thanks for the opportunity to comment and to read the thoughts of others.
I thought it was clunky also. Rather too hard to follow. The rescue attempt was a great idea, but there was way too much clutter surrounding it.