If you’d like to nominate your own page or query for a public critique, kindly post them here in our discussion forums:
Also, if you’d like to test your editing chops, keep your eye on this area or this area! I’ll post the pages and queries a few days before a critique so you can see how your redline compares to mine.
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 emishne, whose page is below.
Shanaz could expose the pharmacist’s biggest fear in less than a minute.
No one would notice, of course. Men, women, and children crowded the bazaar, purchasing steaming pita bread from shouting vendors and frowning at overpriced dates. Wedged between an airboat equipment store and a winery, the healery was nothing but a small reception window, and Shanaz an unnoticeable customer.
“One bottle of thyme elixir, please,” she said.
The pharmacist twirled his handlebar mustache and pushed the spiked goggles up his nose. He stood up and disappeared inside the dark shop. Shanaz craned her neck and glimpsed fist-size parcels hanging from the ceiling. Shelves upon shelves of vials covered the opposite wall. The man returned after a short while carrying a wooden plaque that bore two words: No Moabians. He placed it on the windowsill right by the sign that said No Dogs Allowed and slunk back into the shop.
Pocketing the insult, Shanaz rang the bronze bell glued to the mud-brick wall. “Come on! I really need it!” Her nostrils tickled from the strong onion odor as she leaned through the window.
The pharmacist’s basil turban slipped down over his nose. “What do you think you’re doing? Get out! Can’t you read?”
“I’m sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender. “Look, I have money.” She put a hand into her pant pocket, whipped out a small leather bag, and pulled at the laces. The shekels shone silver in New Babylonia’s blistering October sun, and sweat trickled down her spine as she organized the money in front of him.
There’s a strong sense of place and good details in this opening, and I like subtle elements like the “airboat equipment store” that gives us a sense of the level of technology in this setting. But I’m afraid I found it a bit needlessly disorienting because Shanaz’s motivations and the stakes feel a bit buried.
Why does Shanaz want to expose the pharmacist’s biggest fear? What’s she trying to accomplish? And what does it mean that “no one would notice?” What’s she doing and what she’s risking?
Instead of being oriented around a tangible moment where we understand what the protagonist is trying to do, I felt like I was kept a bit of distance from the actual story and I couldn’t quite piece together what was happening and why.
Sure, I assume that we’ll later learn why she needs thyme elixir, but what is gained by making the reader later have to revise their entire understanding of this scene when they eventually understand what’s going on? I struggle to imagine the payoff will be worth risking the reader’s frustration with being kept out of the story.
Even if the elixir itself is kept a mystery, at least give us more precision around the elements that are introduced, like the pharmacist’s fear.
Open up the story, be precise about what characters are doing and why, and give us a clear sense of the stakes. What happens if they succeed? What happens if they fail?
Here’s my redline:
Shanaz could expose the pharmacist’s biggest fear in less than a minute. [What pharmacist? What fear? Why? Let us into the story]
No one would notice, of course [What if they did notice? What’s at stake, what is Shanaz risking?]. Men, women, and children crowded the bazaar, purchasing steaming pita bread from shouting vendors and frowning at overpriced dates. [Good details but I would lead with the description so the reader knows what can picture the physical setting first]. Wedged between an airboat equipment store and a winery, the healery was nothing but a small reception window, and Shanaz an unnoticeable customer. [I’m not wrapping my head around what it means to be an “unnoticeable customer.”]
“One bottle of thyme elixir, please,” she said.
The pharmacist twirled his handlebar mustache and pushed
thehis spiked goggles up his nose. He stood up and disappeared inside the dark shop. Shanaz craned her neck and glimpsed fist-size parcels hanging from the ceiling. Shelves upon shelves of vials covered the opposite wall. The man returned after a short while carrying a wooden plaque that bore two words: No Moabians. He placed it on the windowsill right by the sign that said No Dogs Allowed and slunk back into the shop.Pocketing the insult [I don’t understand how literally to take this, did she steal the sign or is this intended metaphorically? Clarify either direction?], Shanaz rang the bronze bell glued to the mud-brick wall. “Come on! I really need it!” [Why does she need this? What if she can’t get it? Let the reader into the story]. Her nostrils tickled from the strong onion odor as she leaned through the window.
The pharmacist’s basil turban slipped down over his nose. “What do you think you’re doing? Get out! Can’t you read?”
“I’m sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender. “Look, I have money.” She put a hand into her pant pocket, whipped out a small leather bag, and pulled at the laces. The shekels shone silver in New Babylonia’s blistering October sun, and sweat trickled down her spine as she organized the money in front of him.
Thanks again to emishne!
Need help with your book? I’m available for manuscript edits, query critiques, and coaching!
For my best advice, check out my online classes, my guide to writing a novel and my guide to publishing a book.
And if you like this post: subscribe to my newsletter!
Art: Assyrian mastiff by Anonymous
){kind=link}
I agree with the edits, and about withholding information. I tried that once, to create mystery and suspense, but my readers said, “I don’t get what’s going on.”
My only suggestion would be to change this phrase – “pushed the spiked goggles up his nose” – because it can be read with the wrong image. So “pushed up his spiked goggles” might be better.
Also, liked how the store owner refusing to serve her is made more dramatic by him turning away, as if to get what she wants, and then putting down the sign.
I too agree with the edits but would like a hint as to Shanaz’s age. I think she is a child, but not sure if she’s 8, 10 or a young teen. Of course we’ll find out later though it would help to know right off. If “no one would notice” is the hint, then so be it though I’d rather not guess. Otherwise, I found myself being pulled into the story. Thanks, emishne.