First Pages

As one does in Dubai, I was killing time while the boys were having a snow boarding lesson. So I wondered into Virgin and did an exercise........I looked at books. I stroked covers and admired titles. I debated what made me pick up a book and what made me put it down then I read first pages as I have been thinking about mine. As an 'pre-published' writer I know that quite possibly my first page may have to 'better' (here read - a real grabber) than someone who has a following already. I know that because on authors I love I just pick up their books - at most I will read the blurb on the back. I don't read the first page in the shop. I also know I am not alone on this.

However yesterday I read loads of first pages of 'my' type of books - women's fiction. Yesterday's exercise wasn't about improving my mind or challenging it. It was about pleasure as a book buyer. It was also about trying to learn what would make me continue to read my own book - for I am after all writing for me or my type of reader - if that makes sense.

So I stroked and perused my way through maybe fifty books. I am sure the staff thought I was some sort of a pervert. The first book that grabbed me on the first page was Maggie O'Farrells The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox. I was intrigued and I would have read more but yesterday I was not in a historical mood and it struck as historical - dance cards yous see. Did I mention that I didn't read the blurb on the back of the books. I chose purely by title, cover and first page. So I put Maggie back for another day. Then I hit upon a section of Erica James' A Breath of Fresh Air. I will confess it wasn't the title or the cover but the fact I knew her name as she won the RNA Romantic Novel of Year award in 2006 with Gardens of Delight. So therefore my research was skewed. However the first two sentence had me:

"Charlotte had never seen a man cry before, so she wasn't sure how to react to her husband's unexpected display of emotion. Not once had she ever imagined Peter capable of crying; It went against all she had ever known about him."

I read on and I am now the owner of the book. I caressed a few more and the next book that ended in my basket was Christina Jones' Love Potions.

"Okay, so finding so finding a naked man in her bed wasn't unusual. There had been one or two in her past - not at the same time, of course."

There was another one that I loved but sadly left behind.....and I can't remember the authors name of the title. May have to return and add it to my list........

So what did I learn in this ... Covers are third on the list of importance to me, titles are first if I don't know the author at all, and the first page put the book into my basket so to speak. Now The cover and title told me it was 'my' type of fiction so maybe I should put them first because when you are looking through tables of mixed fiction I really don't see the covers of Andy McNab and Clive Cussler so packaging works.

You may be wondering how I read out of my 'box' because I do. I love reading the reviews in the weekend section although they never review 'my' type of fiction. Of course there are book club selections, friends books and personal recommendations that round out my trb pile.

When I came home I looked at the various opening lines of August Rock and wondered based on the above research which would make me put it in my basket.

1. Judith sat watching the incoming tide lap over her red toenails and wet the brilliant white lace of her wedding gown. Tears caused it all to blur to pink.

2. The cloying scent of oriental lilies permeated the heavy air. June was not supposed to be this hot on Cape Cod and certainly not on her wedding day.

3. The leaves in the birch trees hung limp as Judith looked at the grey sky. Even the birds were not moving in the heavy air but little girls in rose coloured dresses spun about her with stinking pink lilies clutched in their fists.

Interesting......I know which I would choose based on the first lines but which one would you?

Hung Over and First Pages

Gosh, I am a fool. Let me out one night and whoops.....thumping head. By my age I should know better, I really should but it must be age because I keep forgetting or I don't get out much!

As I said yesterday there are so many things rolling around in my head and again I am sharing some with you.

1. last night before too much wine was consumed I 'found' a missing twist for the novel floating in my head and it fits to perfectly it makes me want to dance!

2. I am a believer in things happen for a reason - good and bad. This fits into a book a friend handed me to read when I arrived here in Dubai - The Monk who Sold His Ferrari by Robin Sharma. Now I go hot and cold on these type of books but I do believe in the person who said I should read it. Then lo and behold to give me and extra push Robin Sharma will be giving a talk to the parents of dd's school so I guess I was meant to read this book.

3. I have started reading Julia Cameron's The Artist Way and I have been doing my morning pages ( not yet today - naughty me). This book was recommended it me at the RNA Savoy Lunch last year by a wonderful writer whose name I can't remember. So who ever you are thank you. Reading these two books in tandem makes for some interesting self insight.

4. Last night something completely unexpected happened. I was offered a job! I wasn't looking for one. I can't say any more about it other than it is in the art world and I don't yet know what I am going to do.

Finally Fiona of the Novel Racers has taken up Julie Cohen First Page Challenge. I have done this several times now and have learned so much - from my own and other people's pages. So I thought I would post again the previous first page of August Rock and the new first page. Which reminds me I need to update the first chapter link on the side bar.........

Centerville, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, 4th June 2005 (Version 9)
Judith sat watching the incoming tide lap over her red toenails and wet the brilliant white lace of her wedding gown. Tears caused it all to blur to pink. She didn’t like pink. Not that anyone cared that she didn’t like the colour. The church was filled with pink flowers. Hundreds of lilies to be precise and their scent still filled her nostrils despite the brisk breeze coming in with the tide.
An hour ago when she had stood in the doorway of the church; all she had been able to see were various shades of pink. Flowers and ribbons had adorned every pew, the altar barely visible for all the massed blooms in every shade of the wretched colour; particularly pale pink. Her fiancé, John, had stood among the flowers; tall, blond, perfect yet even he had not escaped the colour with a waistcoat matching the flower girls’ pink dresses. Theyhad spun around her knees with pink stinking lilies clutched in their fists.
The heat of the early June afternoon had intensified the cloying scent of the flowers to overwhelming levels, as the soprano in the choir loft hit the high notes on some hymn Judith couldn’t remember. In her hands, she had held a decadent bunch of lilies, carnations, roses and other pink flowers which reached the floor in their cascade. She had watched her hands tremble and sweat so much that she dropped the candyfloss mess on the floor.
The salty water of the Gulf Stream took the stiffness out of the lace so that it collapsed on her legs. Now she felt at peace with the damn dress; wet and shapeless. A seagull dive-bombed in front of her forcing her to wipe her eyes so that she could see if he was successful. He was and she smiled. At least someone got what they wanted.

Centerville, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, 4th June 2005 (Version 10)
The cloying scent of oriental lilies permeated the heavy air. June was not supposed to be this hot on Cape Cod and certainly not on her wedding day. Something resembling excitement grabbed at Judith’s stomach as she leaned forward to catch a glimpse of her fiancé John. It took her eyes a while to pick him out among the masses of pink flowers that smothered the altar but there he stood with his best man. He showed no signs of nerves with the most heart melting smile on his face. He was happy.
Little girls in their pink dresses twirled about her while a soprano in the choir loft hit the high notes on some hymn Judith didn’t recognize. Her stomach fluttered again and sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She was sure that all brides were nervous and this unsettled feeling was normal.
A vision of raging seas, icy water, and terrified screaming flashed in her mind. She shivered and swayed then grabbed a pillar. She didn’t need this today of all days. She sought out John’s smiling face and tried to focus on today and not the terrifying things in her mind. Someone was fussing with the back of her dress and it couldn’t be her mother as she was safely ensconced in her pew and thankfully nowhere near Judith.
“That’s better.” Mary, her maid of honour, let go of the train and stood up. “This heat is unbearable and who would think it would happen in June. More like August really.”

Now, although I still prefer the opening line of the version 9 I think version 10 sets up the story better. What do you think?

First Page Help

Some of you remember the first page challenge that Julie Cohen posted last year about this time and then I presented to the Novel Racers. Well, Julie, author of Little Black Dress books and Mills and Boon Modern Extra books is hosting a discussion on 'Tightening Your First Page' here. I love the first tip so far:

"the first time, write for you. Then revise it to make it great for the reader. "

Knowing Julie and how well she writes, I know the discussion this week will be filled with much wisdom and laughter :-)

Day one at school for dd went well. I am becoming acclimatized to the heat - I think. Still looking for the connecting cable for my camera so i can post a few photos.

New Challenger Steps Up

A. Writer has taken up the challenge at http://awriters-blog.blogspot.com/. That makes five is you count me. Surely there are a few more who will jump into the fray????

I did not write today. The crows of doubt are circling around her at the moment. There is good reasons for this but I won't go into it now.

However on an up note, I heard from a friend that had been out of touch for a while. Her life has turned around beautifully and is on a great track again. I felt so pumped up to here all her news. So there are some things around to make me smile!

Challenger Update

Nichola has joined the brave.....here http://thesoupisgettingcold.blogspot.com/2007/02/novel-race-challengeblame-liz-for-this.html ....Any more takers?

Challengers

Just a quick update.....two fellow racers have so far taken up the challenge. B.E. Sanderson at http://i-shrugged.blogspot.com/ and Lisa at http://hesitantscribe.blogspot.com/. Very different styles but very compelling work......go have a look. Any other takers racers or not?

It's Friday

Well, not a bad week at all and I have until 5:30 to write today! It will be coffee over at Kate's shortly and I won't have to hold my head down since this week's total so far is 7000 +. :-)

Yesterday I was lucky enough to have lunch with a friend, who's an agent. Yes, I am very lucky. We brain stormed over August Rock and the critique I had done on it. Some the items are easily fixed but one item, the part of Toby by 13 yr. old ghost, is a little more problematic if I'm trying for the UK market. It could fly with a ghost but it may limit the market too much yet Toby's chapter's are some of the strongest in the book. How to alter the work keeping Toby's story intact.......two strong possibilities emerged. So while I work away on A Cornish House hopefully the subconscious part of my mind will resolve the Toby problem. By the way she had absolutely no problem with an American heroine.

Reading through fellow racers blogs this week, I noted the A. Writer was willing to put her writing out there for comment early. At a previous coffee we have discussed whether you are a shower or a hider.....most being hiders. Me too but one of the best exercises that I have ever done was prompted by Julie Cohen's, http://www.julie-cohen.com/blog, first page challenge. I posted both the first page for August Rock and the few words that I had written for A Cornish House. The process involved putting in your thoughts about the page and your motivation for the words. I shamefacedly had never looked that closely at my on work. I wrote and edited but never looked at the whys. I let myself off as I am rediscovering my craft after years away from fiction. The best part of the exercise was other people's comments, http://lizfenwick.blogspot.com/2006/11/first-page-challenge.html. In particular for me those of Laura Vivanaco of the blog Teach Me Tonight, http://teachmetonight.blogspot.com/.

So thinking about all of this made me think now 45,000 or so into A Cornish House would it be a good idea to throw the first page out there again and challenge my fellow racers and anyone else to do the same???? Any takers? I was also thinking I would enjoy seeing my fellow racers styles (some are published so there styles are out there so to speak but some of us aren't).

Herewith the first page of A Cornish House:


The car coughed to a halt and lurched as the trailer pushed it further on the dark lane.
“Shit.” Madde thumped the steering wheel.
“What?”
Madde turned to see Serena rubbing her eyes; her blond hair in spiky disarray and the new tattoo on her arm peeking out from her tee-shirt. Double shit thought Madde. They couldn’t be far from where ever the hell Carnew was but now that Serena was awake she could hear her complaints already. She turned the key but no sound emerged from the engine.
“Are we at this God-forsaken place?” Serena stretched.
“Errr, no. The car died.”
“What?”
“The car died.”
“I heard that but where are we?” Serena was now sitting straight.
“Don’t know.”
“Christ.”
“Mind your language.” Madde ran her fingers over the wheel.
“Hah, fine thing to say. I just heard you swearing. What’s wrong with Christ anyway?”
“We’ve been down this road before.”
“No we haven’t.”
“Don’t be pedantic.” Madde rubbed her hands over the back of her neck. She could feel the rigid tendons. “Serena, I’m tired I’ve been driving for hours and arguing isn’t going to help.”
“So?”

I haven't put my comments in the text like last time as I thought you might like to read it first with out my thoughts and then read my thoughts so they don't prejudice your own.

I am trying to set up tension with the setting - dark road-dead car. Also the conflict between Madde and Serena is right there and crucial to the whole of the book. Also that Serena definitely doesn't want to be where she is. I wanted Serena's stroppy voice to come through and Madde's restraint.....I hope all of this shows and makes you want to know more - like why they are there and who they are and who they are to each other???? Well, that's my hope any way. Let's here what you have to say......I think.

First page Challenge - Book Two

I have been astounded by the feedback on the first page of August Rock. So taking a bit of courage I decided to look at the first draft first page of A Cornish House and do the same exercise. I must state that I have only written two pages as I promised myself I would finish revising August Rock but this exercise had me thinking.........


The car coughed to a halt and lurched as the trailer pushed it further on the dark road. (creates a sense of tension - dark road and dead car)
“Shit.” Maddie hit the steering wheel. (Heroine frustrated and not afraid to express it)
“What?” Maddie turned to see Serena rubbing her eyes. Double shit thought Maddie. They couldn’t be far from where ever the hell ---------- was but now that Serena was awake she could hear her complaints already. She turned the key but no sound emerged form the engine. (conflict already emerging between Madde and Serena which will be crucial through the book)
“Are we at this God-forsaken place?” (Serena doesn't want to be there)
“Errr, no. The car died.”
“What?”
“The car died.”
“I heard that but where are we?”
“Don’t know.”
“Christ.”
“Mind your language.”
“Hah, fine thing to say. I just heard you swearing. What’s wrong with Christ anyway?”
“We’re been down this road before.”
“Oh, no we haven’t.” (Building verbal conflict showing difference in age)

The question is are you curious to know where there are? where they are going? who there are to each to other? I must confess that I have whetted my own appetite to get into the story but August Rock must come first and with things I have been mulling over in my head and the insights on the first page I am counting the hours to get back into my writing routine:)

First Page Challenge

Over on Julie Cohen's blog she issued a first page challenge so I am taking it up! Albeit nervously. So here is the first page of August Rock and my thoughts in italics.

Prologue


Centerville, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, 4th June 2005

Judith sat watching the incoming tide lap over her red toenails and wet the brilliant white lace of her wedding gown. Tears caused it all to blur to pink. She didn’t like pink. Not that anyone cared that she didn’t like the colour. The church was filled with pink flowers. Hundreds of lilies to be precise and their scent still filled her nostrils despite the brisk breeze coming in with the tide. We know that Judith is in a wedding dress and crying on the beach. Why?

As she stood in the doorway of the church, all she could see were various shades of pink. Flowers and ribbons adorned every pew. The altar was barely visible for all the massed blooms in every shade of the wretched colour; particularly pale pink. Her fiancé, John, stood among them; tall, blond, perfect yet even he had not escaped the colour with a waistcoat matching the flower girls spinning around her knees clothed in pink dresses with pink stinking lilies clutched in their fists. We know that she had little or exerted little control over her wedding by the choice of her least favorite colour. What does that say about her?

The heat of the early June afternoon intensified the cloying scent of the lilies to overwhelming levels as the soprano in the choir loft hit high notes on some hymn she couldn’t remember. In her hands, she held a decadent bunch of lilies, carnations, roses and other pink flowers which reached the floor in their cascade. She saw her hands tremble and sweat so much that she dropped the candyfloss mess on the floor.

The salty water of the Gulf Stream took the stiffness out of the lace so that it collapsed on her legs. Now she felt at peace with the damn dress; wet and shapeless. A seagull dive-bombed in front of her forcing her to wipe her eyes so that she could see if he was successful. He was and she smiled. At least someone got what they wanted. What had gone so badly wrong at her wedding that she was alone on the beach and not with her perfect fiance? Why hadn't she got what she wanted?

I hope that introduces Judith in a way that makes one want to know more. What do you think?