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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 rossbuckner, whose page is below.
Prudence felt bad for wishing her father was dead when the gunshot popped like a firecracker from the room above. For a second, nothing moved in the Callison House study but the tiny flames in the fireplace that needed stoking. Hamilton Hissen’s hand froze on the knot of the gold Hermes tie with a repeating pattern of raised H’s he had been adjusting as he stood behind the old Callison desk, no longer reading from the paper quivering in his other hand.
Her twin brother, Jack, on the couch to her left, closed his eyes, took a calming breath and released the death grip he had on his legs. His hands moved to slide his long hair behind his ears, but they caught air. He’d cut his straight, shoulder length hair that morning. The razor burn was fresh on the parts of his face she hadn’t seen since high school almost twenty years ago.
On the opposite couch, younger brother Raymond’s arm rested on his round belly while his cocktail stayed pressed to his lips. His widened eyes moved side-to-side like a Kit-Cat clock in slow motion. His wife, Gerry, leaned forward from his side, took care to place her drink on a coaster and not the almost-priceless Elizabethan withdrawing table and planted her face in her hands.
Nathan, their long-time House Manager, replaced the fireplace poker he was about to use, placed his stubby hands behind him, backed into the wall and awaited his instructions. From whom? The man who gave them was upstairs. Alone.
I like that this page gets off to an intriguing start with a mysterious gunshot, and the author brings some impressive details to bear. We’re learning about who’s who in this scene as the sound of the gunshot almost literally hangs in the air.
My main concern with this page is the perspective. We are immediately immersed in Prudence’s perspective even before the overall scene has been set, but then it feels like we start bouncing between the different characters.
This isn’t egregious head-hopping, and we return to return to Prudence’s perspective at times (e.g. “she hadn’t seen since high school”), but the actions of the secondary characters feel infused with their intent and mindset rather than feeling filtered through Prudence’s perspective. They feel described more like how they’re seeing themselves rather than how Prudence is seeing them.
Particularly at the start of a novel where the reader is just getting their bearings, it’s so important to ground them in a clear and cohesive perspective. If we were a bit more firmly anchored in Prudence’s POV I think this would read more smoothly.
Here’s my redline:
A gunshot popped like a firecracker [cliche and a missed opportunity to create a unique tone]
fromin the room above.Prudence felt bad [Be more precise and individualized] for wishing her father was dead
when the gunshot popped like a firecracker from the room above. [The original opening sentence was convoluted. Err on the side of chronological order] For a second, nothing moved in the Callison House study but the tiny flames in the fireplacethat needed stoking. Hamilton Hissen’s hand froze on the knot ofthehis gold Hermes tie with a repeating pattern of raised H’s.he had been adjusting as hHe stood behind the old Callison desk, no longer reading from the paper quivering in hisotherhand. [This feels like a perspective shift to Hamilton]Her twin brother, Jack, on the couch to her left,
closed his eyes, took a calming breath andreleasedthehis death griphe hadon his legs [This feels like a gesture explosion, pare back empty gestures]. Heis handsmoved to slide hislonghair [but the next sentence says he doesn’t have “long” hair? Another perspective shift] behind his ears, buttheyhis hands caught air. He’d cut hisstraight,shoulder length hair that morning. The razor burn was fresh ontheparts of his face she [Perspective shift] hadn’t seen since high schoolalmost twenty years ago.On the opposite couch, her younger brother Raymond’s arm rested on his round belly while his cocktail stayed pressed to his lips. His
widenedeyes moved side-to-side like a Kit-Cat clock in slow motion. His wife, Gerry, leaned forwardfrom his side, took care to place her drink on a coaster, and not the almost-priceless Elizabethan withdrawing table, [This feels more like Gerry’s intent than how Prudence is seeing this action, so it feels like another perspective shift] and planted her face in her hands.Nathan, their long-time House Manager, replaced the fireplace poker he was about to use
, placed his stubby hands behind him,and backed into the walland awaitedto await his instructions. From whom? The man who gave them was upstairs. Alone.
Thanks again to rossbuckner!
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Art: William Hogarth – The Lady’s last stake
RachelT says
This has some very lovely, moody details, but I entirely misunderstood the opening sentences up until I read Nathan’s changes.
“Prudence felt bad for wishing her father was dead when the gunshot popped like a firecracker from the room above.”
I took this to mean that someone was up on an indoor balcony (like a giant library) or second story walkway and had shot down on the room, hitting Prudence’s father, named Hamilton Hissens.
I also took this to be historical up until the mention of high school. While the overall old-european-vibe felt historical, what *really* made me think historical was the protag noting that the fireplace needed stoking. Using an open fireplace/chimney to heat a room is really, really inefficient compared to even a wood-burning stove insert (which does not need stoking) let alone a portable heater or plumbed furnace.
Alex G says
For me, the most jarring bit was actually “Her twin brother, Jack” – we’d just been reading about Hamilton, who’s a he, so I was very confused.
Also, if you want to keep “released the death grip”, no-one else can be responsible for the thoughts of the readers…
Becka says
I just want to (not) thank you, Nathan, for making me so aware of head hopping. Pride and Prejudice used to be my favorite book and every time I read it now, all I can focus on is the head hopping Austen does. It’s not much, which almost makes it worse. This story starts with a very Pride and Prejudice feel but the details seem anachronistic. I agree with the other commenters – some of the details set the scene as 1800s-ish, then other pieces feel out of place. Also, too many characters in one page! I would definitely keep turning pages because at first I felt like she had fired the shot herself, then I started to lose that feeling. Who killed her father??
Karen says
Great transformation! Your suggested edits were spot on, in my opinion. I’d sure like to know more about that shot from above, wouldn’t you? Cool start to the story! May I add one more thought on this snippet? In a short time, the reader is given lots of characters to remember. There’s 1. Prudence 2. Hamilton, 3. Callison (House) 4. Jack 5. Raymond 6. Gerry 7. Nathan 8. the man upstairs, and 9. her father. (And adding an Elizabethan flare to the décor just felt like one more name in my head.) I was trying so hard to remember everyone that I feel like I missed the story.