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 NeilH, whose page is below.
Title: The Simeon Scroll
Genre: ThrillerThe man came rapidly out of a troubled sleep. He lay there in the darkness, unsure for a moment where he was. He moved his head cautiously, his eyes gradually adjusting to the gloom, trying to identify what had awoken him, but aware only of the rapid thump of his heart.
Familiarity returned slowly. A temporary bed in temporary accommodation. He realized he was holding his breath and let it out with a quivering sigh, still trying to identify the strange disquiet he felt. But it remained elusive.
He pushed aside the coarse blanket and swung his legs out of the narrow cot. An ancient slit window cast a pale pool of moonlight into his humble accommodation, a room barely wider than his outstretched arms. A hint of sickly, sweet sulfur wafted in on the early morning desert breeze, carried up from the shore of the Dead Sea, three hundred feet below.
He padded across the cold stone floor in his bare feet and filled an earthenware bowl from a large jug. He splashed the cool water on his face and across his body, then dried himself quickly. He slipped on a sweatshirt and worn denim pants, and stepped into a pair of leather sandals, then pulled on a traditional, grey, monk’s habit.
He stood for a moment of contemplation, repeating a silent prayer. But it did little for the unease that sat deep and disquieting in his gut.
There are some interesting details in this opening that help create a sense of place. I’m intrigued by this humble room three hundred feet above the Dead Sea. Unfortunately, the unique details don’t arrive until the third paragraph.
Before then? One of the most common/cliched ways of starting a novel is with a character who is waking up. Not only that, we’re starting with vague and empty gestures that aren’t situating us in a story with a specific character who is thinking and feeling very precise things.
Uniqueness is what is going to draw a reader into your novel. We should be able to picture a character clearly and see very specifically what is on their mind on this particular day.
I worry that authors try very hard to be mysterious right off the bat, but they just end up being vague. Intrigue the reader with precise details, not by keeping us at an abstract and generic remove from a character.
Why, very specifically, is this particular character feeling unease on this particular day? What is the nature of the unease, what is on his mind, how is he thinking things through?
Let the reader into the story. Be specific. Help us understand thought processes. If you avoid cliches and vagueness and open up the story, it will come to life.
Here’s my redline:
Title: The Simeon Scroll
Genre: ThrillerThe man came rapidly out of a troubled sleep. [It’s extremely common, verging on cliche, to start a novel with a character who’s waking up] He lay there in the darkness, unsure for a moment where he was. He moved his head cautiously, his eyes gradually adjusting to the gloom, trying to identify what had awoken him, but aware only of the rapid thump of his heart. [This opening paragraph doesn’t really tell us anything unique. A man woke up from bad sleep. Does this give us anything to draw us into a unique story or a unique world? What are we actualy learning here?]
Familiarity returned slowly. [Familiar to whom? What is familiar? This doesn’t tell the reader much?] A temporary bed in temporary accommodation. [Very vague. Does he know where he is? Why can’t the reader know?] He realized he was holding his breath and let it out with a quivering sigh [Empty gestures], still trying to identify the strange disquiet he felt. But it remained elusive.
He pushed aside the coarse blanket and swung his legs out of the narrow cot. An ancient slit window cast a pale pool of moonlight into his humble accommodation, a room barely wider than his outstretched arms. A hint of sickly, sweet sulfur wafted in on the early morning desert breeze, carried up from the shore of the Dead Sea, three hundred feet below. [Better details to orient the reader and create a sense of place. Should we start here?]
He padded across the cold stone floor in his bare feet and filled an earthenware bowl from a large jug. He splashed the cool water on his face and across his body, then dried himself quickly. He slipped on a sweatshirt and worn denim pants, and stepped into a pair of leather sandals, then pulled on a traditional, grey, monk’s habit.
He stood for a moment of contemplation, repeating a silent prayer. But it did little for the unease that sat deep and disquieting in his gut. [Repetitive with the disquiet from before. Be more specific about what he’s feeling and thinking. Open up the story]
Thanks again to NeilH!
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Art: Dead Sea by Vasily Polenov
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