Invite the reader into the story (Page critique)

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And, of course, if you need help more urgently or privately, I’m available for edits and consultations!

Now then. Time for the Page Critique. First I’ll present the page without comment, then I’ll offer my thoughts and a redline. If you choose to offer your own thoughts, please be polite. We aim to be positive and helpful.

Random numbers were generated, and thanks to ddub, whose page is below.

Title: The Song of Kate Elizabeth
Genre: Literary Fiction

I feel as though I’m walking in a completely different, flat outdoor space, breathing completely different air. This never gets old. Yet here, in this the calibration zone, or the “calzone,” as it’s starting to be called in the forums, which really bugs me, it is extremely foggy, as per usual. But it’s so very foggy this time that I can only see the ground that I step on, as well as my feet, of course, or my shoes, to be precise, and my trench coat, which is flapping around below like a slack sail. If I’m not mistaken, this is the very same blackish striped trench coat that I used to wear back in my 20s. Why am I even wearing this old thing? I suppose it’s fitting, as I might have worn something like this when I saw her last.

What I have to do now is concentrate, and take the specific number of steps in the proper order, to engage the runtime. Or else I’ll just end up right back at home where I started. Must remember to move with the breath. Consistency is key. Place the foot. Breathe. Step. Shift, breathe, and… step. I’m trying not to imagine what this might look like from the outside, as if I’m performing some sort of elaborate rain dance, or martial arts ritual; must focus on performing the steps.

This is a tricky page to edit out of context because while I’m not personally a huge fan of the start-and-stop quality of some of the prose (e.g. “the ground that I step on, as well as my feet, of course, or my shoes, to be precise, and my trench coat, which is flapping around”), that’s also more a matter of personal taste. On the whole this reads relatively smoothly for an opening and we get a sense of a slightly fussy narrator.

My larger concern is that I don’t feel very invited into this story. This space is “completely different” than what? What forums? Who is this woman that the narrator hasn’t seen in a while? What runtime? What steps?

While it’s okay to drop a reader into an unfamiliar setting, the opening feels just a bit too vague to me and there’s very little that’s clear that I can latch onto, except perhaps for the trench coat. I’m having trouble picturing where we are, what’s happening, and contextualizing the concepts. There’s not much precision in establishing the setting.

Again, some of this one is personal taste. But even for literary fiction in an unfamiliar setting, I think a bit more can be done to engage the reader off the bat.

Here’s my redline:

Title: The Song of Kate Elizabeth
Genre: Literary Fiction

I feel as though I’m walking in a completely different, flat outdoor space, breathing completely different air. [Completely different from what?] This never gets old. Yet here, in this the calibration zone, or the “calzone,” as it’s starting to be called in the forums, which really bugs me, [Another way to show the narrator being bugged rather than via an interjection?] it is extremely foggy, as per usual. But it’s so very foggy this time that I can only see the ground that I step on, as well as my feet, of course, or my shoes, to be precise, [Do we really need all these interjections?] and my trench coat, which is flapping around below like a slack sail. If I’m not mistaken, This is the very same blackish striped trench coat that I used to wear back in my 20s [I’m confused why the narrator would be confused about their own coat?]. Why am I even wearing this old thing? I suppose it’s fitting, as I might have worn something like this when I saw her last.

What I have to do now is concentrate, and take the specific number of steps in the proper order, to engage the runtime. Or else I’ll just end up right back at home where I started. Must remember to move with the breath. Consistency is key. Place the foot. Breathe. Step. Shift, breathe, and… step. I’m trying not to imagine what this might look like from the outside [outside of what?], It might look to an outsider as if I’m performing some sort of elaborate rain dance, or martial arts ritual. must focus on performing the steps. [This feels repetitive]

Thanks again to ddub!

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Art: Sawmill in the morning mist by Emil Jakob Schindler