It’s been a few days since I had time to blog. As I mentioned last week, I’ve been on a very tight deadline for the last few weeks, and the deadline was last Thursday. I made it, but I’ve been in recovery over the weekend.
For the last couple of weeks, we’ve been critiquing first paragraphs submitted by my loyal blog readers. I’ll continue with that for maybe a week longer, and then we’ll move on to a new topic. Tomorrow, by the way, I’ll be sending out my e-zine.
Today, let’s look at Hope’s first paragraph:
Ma was sleeping when Hannah slipped out to the barn and pulled a halter over Poppy’s head. She led the cow out behind the cabin and tied her to a large oak tree. After a long Vermont winter she needed fresh grass to nurse her new calf. Hannah opened the barn door again and the calf darted out in search of her mother. Once she found her, she nursed and then lay down.
Randy sez: The first thing I see here is a lot of females and female pronouns. There are in fact 4 females (Ma, Hannah, Poppy, and the calf), 4 instances of “she” (referring to Hannah, Poppy, and the calf), and 4 instances of “her” (referring to Poppy and the calf). It seems to me that this creates a certain amount of confusion in the reader’s mind. Not a lot, of course, but more than I like to see in a first paragraph.
The second thing I see is that this paragraph is mostly narrative summary. The events of this paragraph take quite a bit of time–at least several minutes, and probably a lot more, depending on how long it take the calf to guzzle from its mama.
I’m trying to see the reason for this paragraph. Mainly, it sets the stage, showing us a bit of the story world. We learn that our main character is a kid who lives in Vermont. We learn that the winter is finally over. And . . . that’s about it. We don’t see any conflict yet, nor any hints of conflict. We don’t really get to know the character better. We don’t see any glimmerings of a developing theme (it would be way too early to do that anyway).
I think that a first paragraph should be doing more work. I would like to see one of two things:
1) Give us a hint of some conflict
2) Show us a bit of the main character
Note that you don’t want to overdo it here. “A hint of conflict” does not necessarily have to be the main conflict on which the story will turn. It can be something that leads toward the main story conflict.
Likewise, “a bit of the main character” does not have to be a detailed biography. (In other words, a big undigestible wad of backstory.) It just needs to tell us a wee little bit about how Hannah is different from every other kid her age.
That’s what I’d like to see. Hope, can you sharpen up the hook on this paragraph?
First, I want to say how much I enjoy reading this blog. I love the comments, suggestions, and discussion that takes place here.
Randy, I have wondered what you are looking for in a first paragraph, and today, you told us–a hint of conflict and something distinctive about the character.
I believe that Hope has done this. Her character is distinctive from the targeted audience simply by having a cow. The character also displays a knowledge of how to care for the animals, and obviously does so with tenderness.
Now for the conflict. I’m not sure my impressions actually qualify for a “hint of conflict,” but I am intrigued by Hannah “slipping out” while Ma is still sleeping. Why? I want to know. The answer could be simple, yet the word “slipped” raises interesting possibilities. Nevertheless, I agree that some evidence of conflict should be seen.
Randy’s advise is bang on, and I’m waiting to see what Hope does with this paragraph. It seems to have a lovely “Little House on the Prairie” feel that is appealing to so many.
One wee thing. When I read the first two sentences, I was stopped short by the word “Poppy”. Of course, Poppy is a very good name for a cow, but in the context of Ma, and a girl named Hannah, when I saw “Poppy” my brain said “Father”. I had a weird moment when I wondered why “Pop” was sleeping in the barn instead of in a warm bed with his wife. And the harness! LOL…well, you can imagine my poor brain. I had to take it out and buy it a cup of coffee.
Bonnie, I had the same problem, so it’s not just you. Granted, I need some caffeine myself!
I also thought Hannah “slipping out” was interesting, but it could be made more explicit. Something like “Hannah waited until Ma was asleep, then slipped out to the barn.” Or make it more show-y, with Hannah waiting by Ma’s door until she hears her snore or some such.
“Critiquing Hope”–what a philosophical title.
When I saw “Critiquing Hope” in my inbox, I thought Randy had evaluated our offerings, concluded our collective need and was running another 24 hr special.
A little of Hannah’s character is revealed, I think – she cares about the animals and is not just doing a chore. But this doesn’t feel like a first paragraph to me, especially the last sentence. I don’t think I’ve ever stood by and watched a calf nurse – although it’s on my list of things to do before I die – but I imagine it would take a little time. If I were Hannah, I’d be musing or doing something that would show my hopes, fears, goals, etc. Maybe she could think about what Ma would say if she knew Hannah was out here doing this, giving us a way to relate to the character and experience the story.
I get the feeling Hannah is trying to prove herself responsible, so maybe a touch of conflict would bring out her goal and her character, like Poppy breaking loose while she gets the calf, or the threat of a predator, etc.
Two notes:
1) Three “outs” you could strike
– out to the barn
– out behind the cabin
– out in search of
I understand the need to set a rural, colloquial-sounding scene, and starting with “Ma” was great, but watch out for falling banjos, if you know what I mean.
2) The final sentence shut down my excitement by bringing the action to a close. “Once she found her, she nursed and then lay down.” I get that “Good night John Boy” feeling, instead of that “I gotta know what’s next” feeling.
First…
Howdy All Y’all, been a while, missed ya…life got in the way.
Second…
Not to dash Hope’s…uhhh, hopes (ouch, bad pun), but for someone who knows a bit about cow-calf behaviors this paragraph has the feel of having been written by a city slicker. Sorry if that seems a harsh assessment, but it just doesn’t feel real to me. It’s more like a summary of several paragraphs.
A couple of items:
1) Is Poppy a milk cow? If so (and I think this is most likely), the calf is separated from the cow within a few days of freshening (once the colostrum is replaced by milk) and not allowed to suckle (the calf is bucket fed excess milk that the family does not need).
2) (Assuming #1 is incorrect) Are the cow and calf kept separated in the barn? If not, it would be difficult at best to separate the cow-calf pair. If you did manage it, they would be bawling for each other and the cow may prove difficult for a youngster to lead. Either way, the calf would have been running, jumping, bucking, etc once she was free of the confines of the barn. How would Hannah have reacted to this? Good place to show her character.
3) If the calf is allowed to suckle the cow, the duration of suckling is actually quite short, no more than a few minutes, but there is a lot of head butting (stimulates milk release), grunting, pawing, etc. Again, you can use this to show Hannah’s character.
4) For conflict, I can see Hannah getting upset that the calf will be sold (most likely, since it’s a heifer calf, unless they’re needing a replacement heifer…a bull calf would be raised for slaughter).
Okay, that was more than a couple. Sorry I got long winded…and assuming no more interruptions, I might actually get it posted.
Oops…AggieCowboy = Ron Erkert
As somebody who frequently sits around watching young animals nurse, I can tell you that, while it is a wonderful time for contentment and appreciating the miracle of life, it is not very exciting unless this baby is worth $100,000 and the dam is trying to kick it into the next county. Now that can really raise your blood pressure and would make a writeable scene.
On the other hand, if this is aimed at a middle grade reader, nowadays a cow is an strange unknown beastie to most urban kids and the feeling of getting close to one might very well drive a book. In which case — if the cow or calf is central to the story and it is aimed at a very young audience, I’d actually put in more detail about how the calf found the teat, nursed, what the cow did in the meantime, what the barn smelled like, and so forth.
If this is for a readership over the age of 12, that paragraph would probably not compete with their xbox or texting their friends. But without knowing the intended reader, I’m in the dark.
I felt the same way about the usage of “Poppy.” I thought it was referring to a dad. Funny, because one of my female characters in my current novel-in-progress is named Poppy. I’m going to have to take a second look at my own work. Thanks for helping me to always find improvement in my own work.
To Randy and everybody else who took time to respond to my first paragraph I extend my heartfelt thanks. I’ve appreciated your suggestions, observations, etc. Read my new version to see if I really understood what you all were saying. (Mo, please tell me what are “falling banjos.”)
Hannah wanted Poppy’s new calf. She’d show Pa she could take care of it all by herself. Even if she was only nine years old. She wished Ma weren’t feeling poorly. But that gave her just the chance she needed. She tiptoed past her mother’s bed. Ma was asleep. Good. She slipped out to the barn and pulled a halter over Poppy’s head. Once outside, Poppy grazed eagerly on the fresh green grass. It had been a long Vermont winter. Hannah scooted back to the barn to get the calf. When Pa returned from helping his neighbor, he would be pleased that the animals had been outdoors–though Ma couldn’t take them out. Hannah raised the latch and opened the barn door. Before she could close it behind her, the calf darted out. It charged toward the woods. Disappeared from sight.
Ok, now there’s some interesting tension. I really like this version.
I would make a couple little changes, though. I don’t think Hannah’s likely to think of herself as “only” nine. She can take care of a calf by herself. She’s nine years old now.
My secong quibble is with the long Vermont winter. I’m a Florida gal; I don’t know what that means. The snow had finally melted? I know kids don’t want a ton of description, but a little something might be nice.
A little off topic… Randy, I just read your “Mananging Your Drafts” bit in this month’s E-zine, which led me to wonder if you’ve experimented with any of the software that’s designed specifically for writers / novels (as opposed to general purpose word processors, such as MS Word). I’m thinking of Scrivener, Storyist, Story Mill, CopyWrite, Jer’s Novel Writer, etc. (… and those are just the Mac ones that I’ve tried.)
If you haven’t, you probably should. If you have, I’d love to hear which ones and how well they mesh with your method of creation. I think it’d be an interesting blog topic, as well as an interesting E-zine article.
I too like the new paragraph much better! I have a much greater understanding of what is going on.
Few notes: It should probably be two paragraphs vs one, maybe at the ‘once outside’ note.
My other suggestions are more technical than big picture. The last two sentences should probobably be one, “It charged into the woods and disappeared from sight” or something like that.
I would also rearrange the wording order when she was leaving the house. The ‘chance’ to leave was because her mother was sleeping, not just because she was feeling poorly, as well as her thinking she is hot stuff for already being nine. She is nine, she is a big girl, she can help out!! She has confidence!
My other note was about her ‘scooted’ back to the barn. I picture her either on a little razor scooter (not likely) or sitting on her rear end scooting in the dirt, again, hopefully not! She could have ran, or skipped, or jogged, or hurried…
Although, now that I think of it, if she is on a farm in a contemporary day and age, having her ride her razor scooter around the barn would be pretty darn funny!
Just my 2 cents:-)
The second version is much improved and sounds like the beginning of an interesting story with several layers. If Hannah is 9, the book would be for 8-10 year olds, not older–unless it’s really an adult book which starts in childhood. Speaking as an ex-children’s librarian, I can tell you that kids choose books about kids who are older than they. You might want to make Hannah ten or eleven to appeal to more children who read chapter books since many eight year olds still don’t. Also, for kids this age, I think you want to break the paragraph in two so there’s more white space on the page.
A few quibbles: Sentence fragments are useful and often the most dramatic way to tack on a thought. But “Even if she was only nine years old” stopped me. Try reading it (aloud) without the interruption. Or say, “Even if she was only nine years old, she could take care of it by herself. Pa said she wasn’t big enough, but she’d show him.”(What gender is it? Doesn’t it have a name? Hasn’t Hannah given it a name?)
Two sentences in a row start with she and have the same structure. Could be fixed thusly. As she tiptoed past her mother’s bed, she wished Ma weren’t feeling so poorly.
I missed the details of tying the cow to a tree behind the cabin in the second version.
One possible place to end the first paragraph would be as soon as she takes Poppy outside, starting the next paragraph with Outside (not once outside).
This means the actual first paragrah–which I think can’t be too long in a children’s book–would estableh Ma’s illness and the conflict with Pa over whether she can take care of the calf, but wouldn’t have the calf running into the woods. Randy and the rest of you, what do you think about thaat? And Hope, does the bit of defiance fit with Hannah’s character?
Also, Pa helping the neighbor gives something of his character, which is good. Do we know or care what he was doing? What WOULD a neighbor be doing in April or May that he’d need a neighbor’s help for? And shouldn’t the neighbor have a name in Hannah’s POV?
Enough, already.
My paragraph for critique:
This is a sci-fi.
“White Toe, it spotted us!” Scarfoot said in mindspeak. From his vantage point in the tree, Scarfoot watched the long-tooth creep towards them. The carnivore could smell them but it couldn’t see them yet. He held a branch down to help his sister clamber above the long-tooth’s line of sight. White Toe grabbed the branch with one hand, but the large rock she cradled in the other arm kept her from climbing. She lifted it so he could take hold of it. He added it to the pile they had already gathered. She climbed up and stood next to him.
He held a branch down to help his sister clamber.I would also rearrange the wording order when she was leaving the house. The ‘chance’ to leave was because her mother was sleeping, not just because she was feeling poorly
It had been a long, bitter winter, even by Vermont standards. Hannah figured that it was time. Very quietly, careful not to wake Ma, Hannah slipped out to the cowbarn and led Martha out behind the cabin. She tied Martha to the big oak tree where the fresh grass was thickest–not that Martha needed to be tied, but just in case. Hannah went back into the barn. Through the open door, the calf darted out in search of her mother. Somehow, the hitch had slipped, and Martha was nowhere to be seen.
This blog gives such insightful comments. A genuine gift given by those offering their thoughts. We learn through sharing our experiences.
I offer a few lines for critique, but also pose the question about the effectiveness of “Prologues.” Do they add? Do readers skip them and jump right to Chapter One. I have included a few lines from the prologue of my novel (southern literature)and the first few lines from Chapter One.
Randy,(and others) I would love your input and comments on the prologue subject.
Prologue-
Oh, I know you’re a figment of a wandering mind, sitting over there all wispy-like. Folks my age accept episodes of mind-trickery. That’s all right. It’s a comfort to have someone close. Someone who’s a good listener. Someone who’ll keep a secret.
I can tell you this, the chill of lonesome seeped to the bone, being neither the first, nor last child born to an already raggedy-poor farm family.
It’s not a held-close secret that when I was born most families would’ve seen it as a bad omen. Been scared to death they’d been chosen for trouble. They would’ve just as soon seen me gone, rather than welcomed to the teats of the family, once they’d seen my face colored-up like it was. The red-purple stain that covered my cheek and ran along the side my nose, around my mouth, and down under my chin called out I was marked by the Devil.
(In this case, in the prologue, I hope I to give the reader a glimpse of the character that will be telling this story.)
First Paragraph-
I can tell you, they never meant to kill her.
Through the kitchen window, I notice the clouds bunching up behind Carcanchel Mountain. There’s going to be a morning shower. The ants over by the lilac knew. Earlier, I saw them cover the hole to their hill which is a sure sign rain’s coming.
The ants are right. The first rain drops smack the window glass. The kicked up wind cries through the weathervane like a tortured soul.
Thoughts of killing and thoughts of life-giving rain ain’t fit company. It was just mischief after all — three fifteen-year old boys wasting time at the railroad yard, bragging who could outdo the other, double-daring each other the way boys do. Justice Junior, he was the oldest and the one with the rich family that said what was so in town. It was his idea to mess with the barriers at the crossing, so they would stay down after the train passed, and he stole old man Hatley’s tools. He wanted to see how long a car would sit behind the barrier rails after the train went by. My grandson Samuel guessed two minutes. Jessie’s grandson Rhoan said five. Justice Junior figured nobody would hang around thirty seconds before skirting the rails.
Wendy
Hope,
The one thing that stopped me in both versions is: since she’s going to let the calf out anyway, why make two trips? Just let the calf follow the cow outside in the first place.
First, sorry that this post is so long.
Hope,
Not much to add to what others have said about the revision which I agree is much improved. Beyond some technical/grammatical changes, I still have problems with the calf’s behavior. From a kid’s standpoint, it may not be that big a deal if it fits within the overall story line. From my standpoint, however, it just strikes me as discordant or incomplete. I’m thinking that this paragraph is a good start, but should be expanded into several (or even a complete scene) to bring in more detail and action.
Wendy,
The way I understand it is that a Prologue, if needed, should be some background event that leads into the story, but can be excluded without detriment to the overall story. Many writers and readers absolutely abhor prologues. I think of them as the three paragraphs that scroll ‘up’ the screen at the beginning of each Star Wars movie. A lot of the prologues I’ve seen would be better title ‘Chapter 1’.
Your prologue seems to be more character background which should be included in the text on an ‘as needed’ basis. Instead, the accident at the tracks would make a better prologue as it’s the event leading up to the first chapter, especially if you can link it to the narrator.
Chapter 1: ‘They didn’t mean to kill her.’ KEWL! Who was killed? Why? How? By Whom? Lots of questions to pull me on. Then some random ramble about kitchen windows, rain, and ants. WTF?! Why do I care about that? Did the ants have something to do with the ‘her’ that was killed? The first line of Chap. 1 is GREAT! Unfortunately, you then lose me with the talk about ants and rain. I understand what you’re going for, but as a reader I got whiplash.
Also, it is extremely difficult to write in first person. There’s a tendency to over do the internal dialogue so it ends up being more telling than showing. I would replace paragraphs 2 and 3 with some kind of motivation (i.e. police photos of the 3 boys in the newspaper…well, maybe not since photos of juvies aren’t usually released…a photo of the victim perhaps?) and the first line of paragraph 4 should be dropped.