6.25.2011

shelley watter's first page critique and contest

This is version #2,095,003 of the first page of Solstice.  Please help me out by critiquing it.  Don't worry, I can take your honest opinions and would love feedback and advice.  I don't mind writing version #2,095,004 one bit.  Whatever works.  Thanks in advance!

Please go here to visit Shelley's Blog to find the links to all the other entries!

Title:  Solstice
Genre:  YA Paranormal Romance
Word Count:  65,000

(Original version.  After some great feedback, I tried to apply some of the advice by making revisions. Please see below.   The only thing I was unable to do was cure the excerpt of wordiness.  In fact, I may have made it worse.)
        Deep down I knew this was a bad idea.  If I chickened out, though, it would bug me all day, maybe longer.  So here I sat on a bed of dry, crunchy leaves with my back against one of the many tall oak trees in Haven Forest.  Early morning sunlight streamed through the trees and the mist, making the forest look eerier than normal.  The journal I’d sneaked from my great-grandma’s old trunk lay unopened in my hands.  Staring at it didn’t help.  If it had an invisible clasp, it didn’t flip open magically.  That would have been too easy. 
            Sure, I’d sneaked peeks at it over the years, but nothing I’d ever tried had opened it.  Giving up wasn’t an option.  Its mystery intrigued me.  That, and the whispered stories I’d overhead my dad and aunt share, years before, that taunted me, and reassured me that there was a story for me to read within it.  One thing I’d heard my dad say ran through my mind:  “Grandma Mari’s story is meant to be sealed.  When it becomes necessary for it to be opened, one of us will know how to do it.  Only then will our history be known.”  Something had quivered through me with those words, and I’d known who that one would be.  Me. 
            That was the first time my intuition had spoken to me, using a type of sign language on my skin with its icy fingers.(Revised Version) (A third below)
          Deep down I knew this was a bad idea.  Yet here I sat on a bed of dry, crunchy leaves with my back against one of the many oak trees in Haven Forest.  Early morning sunlight streamed through the trees and the mist, making the forest look eerier than normal.  The journal I’d sneaked from my great-grandma’s old trunk lay unopened in my hands.  Its binding was seamless and without a clasp or lock.  Staring at it didn’t help.  Willing it to open wouldn’t do the trick.
            Sure, I’d sneaked peeks at it over the years, but nothing I’d ever tried had opened it.  Giving up wasn’t an option.  Its mystery intrigued me.  Over time the desire to get in the journal grew, like a spark catching on dry fabric, the heat in the pit of my stomach a stark contrast to the shivers running down my back as I held the cool metal-bound book. 
            The whispered stories my dad and aunt had shared years before taunted me, reassuring me that there was a story within its hidden pages. One thing I’d heard my dad say ran through my mind:  “Grandma Mari’s story is meant to be sealed.  When it’s necessary for it to be opened, one of us will know how to do it.  Only then will our history be known.”  As soon as I heard those words, shivers quivered through me.  And I’d known who that one would be.  Me.
            That was the first time my intuition had spoken to me, using a type of sign language on my skin with its icy fingers.

You are all amazing.  Thanks so much for your help!  (Revised Version) (I may have taken the changes too far....)
          Deep down I knew this was a bad idea. Here I sat on a bed of dry, crunchy leaves with my back against one of the oak trees in Haven Forest.  Pale morning sunlight streamed through the trees and the mist, making the forest look eerier than normal. The metal-bound journal I’d sneaked from my great-grandma’s old trunk lay unopened in my hands. Its binding was seamless and without a clasp or lock. Staring at it, willing it to open, did no good.
             Nothing I’d ever tried had opened it. Giving up had never been an option, for no reason other than its mystery intrigued me. Recently, however, my desire to get in the journal flared, like a spark catching on paper, the heat in the pit of my stomach in stark contrast to the shivers running down my back chill in the air as I examined every corner of the book.
            My parents never talked about Great-Grandma Mari or the items in her trunk, skirting questions the few times I'd asked. The secrets taunted me though everyone else seemed able to ignore them.
             Whispered conversations between my dad and aunt, years before, had reassured me that there was a story within its hidden pages. “Grandma Mari sealed her story," my dad had said. "When necessary, one of us will know how to open it. Only then will our true history be known.” As soon as I heard those words, shivers quivered through me. And I’d known who that one would be. Me.
            That was the first time my intuition had spoken to me, using a type of sign language on my skin with its icy fingers.

and...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST BLOG PARTNER IN THE UNIVERSE!  HAVE A GREAT DAY, ERICA!

15 comments:

  1. I am absolutely hooked by the idea of a sealed journal containing juicy secrets. Great way to begin! There were only a couple of places where I got tripped up. The first was "tall" oak trees. For some reason, that word didn't fit to me because it seemed too obvious. Perhaps a word like "ancient" would work? Ancient implies tall and large, plus it might amp up the feeling of mystery.

    The other place I got caught up was "something had quivered through me with those words." It could be that the "quiver" you refer to is important to the story, but if it's not, I would suggest that something like "As soon as I heard those words..." would suffice without taking anything away from the drama of the moment.

    Great job! Definitely makes me want to read more!!

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  2. I really wanted to read on! This page is full of suspense, but I think you could lose the second line. It sounds a little bit casual, and doesn't sit with the rest of the extract. So it could be:

    'Deep down I knew this was a bad idea. Yet here I sat on a bed of dry, crunchy leaves with my back against one of the many tall oak trees in Haven Forest.'

    It's just my opinion though. Great extract :)

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  3. I liked your intro, it really brought me into the story. I think you could rewrite the second to last sentence in the first graf. Maybe, something like the lock was impenetrable. The way it is I get confused and have to re-read it. Love the ending with the icy fingers but it loses its punch with the crossed out part below a bit. good luck.

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  4. oh man. This is story is exciting. The tension is dripping in this scene. I love this MC from the frist line. Yeah.

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  5. Why did you strike out those bottom lines - word count issue?

    Anyway, I think the first paragraph would read even better without the 2nd sentence (So here I sat...). What about this MC makes the journal so intriguing to her - what within her? I think adding that bit of internal conflict would really take this to the next level.

    Other than that, you know I love it! Good luck!

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  6. YAY! Thanks everyone. Already I have great feedback and love the advice. Will definitley use it. Sorry about the crossed out lines. I'd meant to delete them before this posted, but left for vacation yesterday and didn't get a chance to get back in here. Can't wait to read the others on Shelley's list! Christy

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  7. I love this! The last sentence gave me chills. There is one sentence that I stuttered over a bit:

    If it had an invisible clasp, it didn’t flip open magically.

    I didn't understand what this sentence meant until I read the next paragraph. Aside from that I thought it was brilliant!

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  8. Having read at least half of your first 2 million versions, I like this one!! And thanks for the balloons!!
    erica

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  9. It's an intriguing open.

    Nice work!

    I like Christine's edit.

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  10. Hi there! Great, clean writing.

    I'd advise a paragraph break before "Early morning sunlight...".

    Also, this sentence? "That, and the whispered stories I’d overhead my dad and aunt share, years before, that taunted me, and reassured me that there was a story for me to read within it."

    Firstly, it should be 'overheard,' not 'overhead.' Secondly, I think you can smooth out the flow. My humble suggestion: "Also, the whispered stories my dad and aunt had shared years before taunted me, reasserting that there was a story within its pages."

    Your last line is, like, sheer brilliance. Beautiful.

    Best of luck!

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  11. Loved it. I would definitely keep reading. Srsly. :) And I agree with the other nitpicks others had to say. Great tips.

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  12. I like this opening. I'm definitely curious to see what happens when she opens the journal.

    It's a stylistic thing, but I think this can be streamlined into fewer words and still have the same impact. But again, that's a style thing.

    Nice job!

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  13. Absolutely agreeing with the others- love the concept and the voice, would read on, but get a little tripped up in the same spots others have suggested. I think it would be interesting to see how many words you could eliminate without losing voice or important information. It could be an interesting exercise/ challenge to use as few words as possible in the first few paragraphs.

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  14. I'm hooked, Christy. I agree with Vicki that you can make this a seriously powerful opening if you give us something about who she is, her internal conflict, that's making it so important to her to be the one to open the journal. Other than that, some little things: you could take out a couple of unnecessary words: "Yet" in sentence two (just start w/ Here); "many" oak trees; either "Early" or "morning" sunshine (don't need both descriptors). I also would like to know the journal is metal when you first describe it, and in the 2nd para the phrase "sneaked peeks" made me think she HAD already gotten into it. Finally, I think you could take out "One thing I heard my dad say. . ." and instead say "Grandma Mari's story is meant to be sealed," my dad had said. "When it's ne. . .etc. These are just little things. I definitely want to read more!

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  15. The only thing I'd change is this line: 'Sure I'd sneaked peeks at it, but nothing I'd ever tried had opened it.'

    To me, the idea of 'sneaking a peek' means peeking inside, but obviously that hasn't happened. If it's okay for the mc to just 'see' the journal sitting there, then there isn't any reason to 'sneak' is there?

    Overall I loved it though, and I'd definitely read on! Good luck!

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