First Page--Search For Knowledge

It's not too late to send in your first page to be entered in the contest. The novel itself does not have to be finished. Send your entry to charity.bradford@gmail.com and include your:

Name, Title, Genre, Word count, and first page.

This entry is NOT eligible for the contest. However, my sequel is coming out later this year and I'd like your feedback.

Title: SEARCH FOR KNOWLEDGE, Sequel to THE MAGIC WAKES (WiDo Publishing, 2013)
Genre: Science Fantasy
Word count: complete at 77,000


First Page:

Four tiny suns washed out the sky, casting a mauve twilight over the dragon council. The dismal planet had been the dragon’s first world. It resided in a cluster of dying stars that had long since drifted outside the galactic disk. Life had ceased, and only cold barren rocks existed in the perpetual dusk. The dragon lords never stayed long, but it remained the preferred meeting ground when they were between spheres.

Jewel shuddered at the thought of living here. There would never again be warmth from the suns or life to fill the air with sound or smell. She’d been here an hour and already missed Sendek. With a sigh she returned her attention to those around her.

Dragons of every age and size filled the amphitheater-like valley. The dominant green clan took the place of honor on the field, but equal numbers of reds, blues, and silvers lined the perimeter. The hiss of their steamy breath conveyed the underlying tension as they waited for her report.

Feeling small in the midst of so many other dragons, Jewel paced the center of the circle before two males. One green, the other blue. Their normally bright colors dulled in the dim light on the planet. She wished she could see them in the blaze of Sendek’s suns once more. In the brightness of that planet they had shone with glittery opalescence equal to the spirits burning inside the flesh and bone bodies. This was her chance to convince them to return to the home of her heart.

Shrouded Goddess

I've got one last critique for you all this week, a first page from an NA/YA Fantasy:

 

CHAPTER 1

Sophie

I sneak out of my bedroom as soon as the hallway empties. Harp notes and laughter drift in the air from the night festivities downstairs. But that is not where I’m headed. (I had to think about why I didn't like this sentence. It's because it merely serves as a lead in for the information that follows. I think there's a better way.) Mingling with the drunken nobility without my grandmother’s protection will only get me married by morning. (That fast?)

Candlelight frames the door of her (I might name 'her' here, either as my grandmother or her given name.) chamber, and I squeeze through the narrow opening to avoid announcing my presence with creaking hinges. Eyes closed and ocher hands folded over her chest, Aryeea seems at peace. Her dark hair is still as black as mine. Tribal blood pumps strong in our veins, no matter what we do to hide our descent.

As she lies, resting on a bed brought by my grandfather from across the sea, I can almost believe Aryeea is dead. I’ve always known she wouldn’t live forever, but the thought of not seeing her again isn’t comforting. (why would it be?) I’ll even miss the snapped orders she flings at me all day long.

“Sophia, stop viewing me. I’m not dead yet.” Her bark wakes me from my reverie.

I straighten my back so she won’t sense my relief. “I thought you moved on without saying goodbye.” (here the narrator is suggesting she did think Aryeea was dead but previously the narrator could almost believe that she is dead.)

“I will, but not yet.” Aryeea sits, adjusting the feather pillows I embroidered for her against the headboard. “And when I do, make sure you bury my wedding braid with me. Your grandfather might need a reminder when we meet on the other side.” With shaky fingers, she straightens her loose hair. “And your uncle won’t even think of it when the time comes. The Barony is all he cares about.”
***
My first thought is that Sophia's reactions to her grandmother are a bit confusing. If her grandmother is on her deathbed (which it appears is the case) then I would think Sophia would be more worried about Areeya's passing. My second that is that there's nothing here to connect me to Sophia. She isn't interested in whatever festivities are happening below, believing that mingling with the 'drunken nobility' will only get her married by morning which seems a bit much. Even assuming she did mingle and was forced into marriage I would think a marriage would take longer to put together - especially if she's related to the Baron. I wonder if the threat of an impending marriage might add a little oomph to this first page. Not necessarily that Sophia IS going to marry someone soon but that someone will be chosen for her soon. That way her grandmother could become more of an ally and her passing would be more of a loss, giving Sophia more to worry about than just one or the other. It would also make sense then for Sophia to seek out her grandmother when there's a party going on downstairs when in reality, most young girls would be dying to go, or at least watch , rather than go visit with Granny.
Readers, what do you think of this first page? Any helpful suggestions or comments?
 
 

First page critique - Last Christmas

The lights went out at the same time Katrina’s phone vibrated on her desk. She grabbed it with shaky fingers, saw her mom’s picture on the screen and swiped to answer.

“Hey, I’m just now leaving.” Katrina took another deep breath to calm her racing heart while her mom fussed at her for being late. “I’m sorry, Mom. Really, I just got busy and didn’t watch the time. They just turned the lights off on me so I’m packing up. It should only take about fifteen minutes to get there.”

Purse, laptop—check. Katrina flipped off her desktop and switched on the flashlight she kept at her desk.

“Mom, I’ve got to hang up or I’ll never get out of here. See you in a few.” She hit end and stuffed the phone in her purse, but she didn’t get up. Instead, she soaked in the silence of the empty office for another minute. It was better than what waited for her at her mom’s famous Christmas Eve party. Loud music, more people than could comfortably fit in the small ranch style home and whatever meat head her mother thought would make a great father for her unborn grandchildren.

With a groan, Katrina grabbed her stuff and headed for the elevators. Time to face the holiday with as much grace as she could muster. She left the elevator and stepped into the cold parking deck pulling her coat closer. The shadows stretched from the pylons, reaching for her with greedy fingers, the sound of traffic on the street below calmed her nerves. There were only a few cars scattered up the incline. She should have been able to see her silver Accord, but a large black van blocked her view. It hadn’t been there this morning.

Katrina glanced behind her. No one was in sight. She stood still and listened, but all she could hear was that same traffic that moments before had made her feel safe. There was no movement, no tell-tale legs that she could see standing between the van and her hidden car. Still, she walked slowly taking a wide berth around the van, heart pounding. When she cleared the van and saw her car sitting there, she let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

A small laugh escaped as she dug in her purse for her keys. She unlocked the car and walked toward it. Is that eyes in the back window?

The eyes grew larger, accompanied by the swish of fabric and two strong arms wrapping around her waist and neck. Katrina screamed, but the tall man in black just smiled at their reflection in the glass. He didn’t try to stop her from screaming.
***

My first impression is that this read very smoothly for the most part and I got a lot of character from this first page. Katrina works late (a lot?), shown by the fact that the office lights have gone off (although many offices don't go completely dark, at least in larger towns and cities). She's also not looking forward to her mom's Christmas party and less so to "whatever meat head her mother thought would make a great father for her unborn grandchildren." Loved this btw. But she seems nervous or uneasy (shaky fingers, deep breath to calm herself) and there's no explanation why, although there may be one later. I'm also unsure why she's looking for a bad guy when she gets to the parking area. Is she expecting something to happen? If so mightn't she have some mace or pepper spray? Just a thought. Lastly, I might reword this sentence: "The shadows stretched from the pylons, reaching for her with greedy fingers, the sound of traffic on the street below calmed her nerves." "Shadows stretched from the pylons, the sound of traffic on the street below calming her nerves." The reason I'd cut the greedy fingers is because these words seem like they belong more to fantasy or dark horror rather than suspense, but that's just me. Other than that, I thought this was a pretty darn good first page and I would definitely have read on to see what happens to Katrina. Nice start Charity :)

Now, what do you think of Charity's first page? Any thoughts or comments you'd like to share?
 

First Page Critique - Spirit Mage

If only he could throw a bar of lava or Fire. Even a jet of Water would do in a pinch. But he couldn’t do that. Not without certain repercussions.

Orders kept Justus Aubre on a short, thorny leash, and the strictures didn’t include using his magical talents.

A medley of reporters was stood between him and a frowning politician in an echoing chamber made of marble and suspicion. The constant clickety, click, click of cameras tightened his mouth.

“A demonstration, you say.” Justus stroked his chin as if considering the request.

Request? More like the senator was demanding he jump and say, yes sir. Right away sir. The oily expression on the Honorable Senator Kendway’s face reminded him of a ferret eyeing a meal. Unctuous to a tee.

“Yes, Mr. Aubre. A demonstration of your ‘powers’ would be nice,” Kendway said.

“You have the folder. You know what we mages can do.”

“Yes. I have your group’s previous testimony and this deposition.” Kendway stroked the closed cover of the forty-page report with one long finger. “Frankly, it seems a bit...premature to evaluate the nature of these magical powers.”

Justus rolled his shoulders. “And the news reports aren’t enough to—”

“Excuse me, ‘wizard’, I haven’t finished.” The senator sat back and crossed his arms. “You come before us, delegated by your supreme leader.”

“Tiarra.”

Kendway curled his lip. “And now you believe we should take your word and some jimmied-up special effects and tricks? Without proof? You come before us with nothing and expect us to accept the rabbit-in-a hat illusion? Elephants disappearing on the stage.”

Justus frowned. “That mage in Vegas wasn’t sanctioned. We took care of it.”

“Oh, please. Don’t patronize me with silly stories. That was a sham performance.”

“Nah. It was all mage. Just not approved by the Tiarra. PETA did protest about using a live animal though.”

Kendway looked like he’d bit into a bad grape. “And yet here you are. Show me. Prove it or this masquerade ends now.”

“At this time, I am prohibited from such a display. Pity. But there it is.”

“Pity? Why is that?”

***

Ha! I can guess why it's a pity! A pity Justus can't turn Mr. Politician into a toad or something equally unpleasant!

Anyway...my thoughts: Having read the first two books in this series I'm already interested in what will happen next but...but that first line could be reworked to place readers better in this world, maybe by using Justus' name and his perception of where he is at the moment. For example, something like this: "Justus surveyed the crowd (or chamber or whatever) and (insert his perception here - are they all a bunch of oily politicians and ambulance chasing reporters? Is there someone else there that he might look to for support or encouragement? How is he feeling? Angry? Trapped?). If only he could throw a bar of lava or Fire. Even a jet of Water would do in a pinch. But he couldn’t do that. Not without certain repercussions."

Aside from that, I liked this first page and can't wait to read the rest :)

Search for Knowledge

Well, it's finally Spring (or so the calender says) and I'm back with first page critiques for the week. If you're interested in having your first page appear here, send it along! For today, we have the first page of Charity Bradford's work in progress, SEARCH FOR KNOWLEDGE, the sequel to THE MAGIC WAKES.

Four tiny suns washed out the sky leaving the dragon council in a mauve twilight. The suns were too far away to bathe the planet’s occupants in golden light, but the dragon lords never stayed for long. Dragons of every hue and size filled the valley. Their breath filled the cold air with steam as they listened to the report.

“Lords Elvin and Jenska, the humans on Sendek have made a course change.” A medium sized green dragon stood in the center of the circle before two very large dragons. One blue, the other green.

The blue nodded to his companion who spoke their shared question.

“How does this concern us?”

“For the first time we may be able to return to a seeded planet. They need our help and at this time they are willing to be instructed.”

The blue dragon made a low chuffing sound and rubbed his foreleg across his chest. “I remember my last day on Sendek. Men do not want to be instructed. I have the scars to prove it.”

“Lord Elvin! You know this body does not carry the scars of the old one.”

“Maybe not physically, but they are there all the same my jewel. I’ve missed you Della.”

“Don’t change the subject. Our descendants have survived. The magic has awakened and they will need guidance. Your guidance.”

“What do you think Jenska?” Elvin once again deferred to the green dragon at his side.

“It is too great a risk. We should continue to the next world. Perhaps this time we will get it right.”

Della tipped her head back and roared. “I tell you I’ve searched their minds. Sendek still has the potential for success. They’ve made great strides on their own. They’ve protected their wild lands, the air quality is better than when you left, and they are reaching out to the stars.”

“Other’s have reached the stars, but their hearts were not ready to be one with us.” Elvin spoke low but all could hear his voice in their minds.

“Stubborn man.”

“I’m no longer a man, just as you are no longer a woman. We are more than we were.”

“You are the same spirit that lived in the body of a man. I met the children of our love. Sendek requires a second look.”

 ***

My first impression is that this is a good set up for a sequel, especially the last line, " Sendek requires a second look." This tells the reader that we'll likely be returning to the planet where the first novel takes place. The only problem I have is that for me, this isn't a very compelling opening. To be fair, I'm speaking from the point of view of someone who hasn't read what's come before but even so, the first page of a sequel needs to not only interest readers of the previous book but also draw in new readers. As it stands, I'm not curious enough to turn the page (sorry). 

Now comes the part where I'm supposed to make suggestions as to how to improve this first page, and here's where I'm having trouble, because there's nothing really wrong with this first page. It just didn't grab me. So, how can the author make this first page more interesting, especially to those who never read the first book? What comes to my mind is, again, that last line, which implies that these dragons will be heading back to Sendek. But are they all unified in their desire to help? Is there any conflict between them? If so, maybe that could be played up a little more here. For example, what if the perspective was changed from where the main players are (and I'm assuming that the dragons introduced here will be the main players) to somewhere beyond? This might give the reader the opinions and observations of someone else who might be able to hint at the greater conflict that is sure to ensue. Because if there's one thing sure to make people turn the page, it's trouble.


If you have any thoughts for Charity, please share - we love comments! - and if you want to read Charity's first book, click on the pic :)

   

Fade Into Me

Submission Number 2. comes from our own Charity Bradford. Here's the first page of her YA Contemporary Scifi, FADE INTO ME.

Kieran

The barrier that separated my world from the human reality was a fascinating bit of technology that I often took for granted. Appreciation flickered briefly as I touched the side of the archway to activate the portal. The runes’ familiar texture moved under my fingers before the fabric of space and time split and fluctuated within the confines of the door. All I had to do was set the destination. The coordinates floated behind my closed eyelids as my mind linked into the system. One step, a tugging sensation, and I stepped into Ireas. I wonder if a small explanation would be appropriate here, for example: "...I stepped into Ireas, the place of my birth/homeworld/whathaveyou." Does that make sense? That way you're making it crystal clear that Kieran is from somewhere else. Just my opinion though...

Strands of magic swirled around me revealing more vibrant colors and smells than on the human side of the barrier. The foyer and grand staircase were empty, the halls quiet. Even this week, the second busiest the palace staff would have this year, my world exuded peace. If only we could push this calmness into the human’s world.

I followed the corridor lined with tapestries and portraits of my ancestors to a set of double doors leading outside. The colors of the garden danced in the sunlight—shades of red, white, yellow and green jumped from plant to plant, mingling, changing. They wrapped themselves around the sound of buzzing insects and the humming of bird wings. This is what I missed the most when living among the humans—this symbiosis of sight and sound. The collective magical ignorance of the human race compelled the colors to remain motionless. Here they played like joyful children. I think you could combine this paragraph with the one preceding it. When you mention "strands of magic" I want to see it and the second paragraph offers this. 

Mother straightened from her spot by a rose bush bursting with flowers. Their soft peach coloring swirled around her arms in a gentle caress as she placed the cuttings in a basket. 

"Kieran? What’s wrong?" At almost four hundred years old,(do we need to know this now? Is it important? or mightn't it have greater impact later? Just asking...)  Mother's dark hair had started to streak with gray, but her skin remained flawless like her rose petals.

"I need more time."

“Sweetheart, you know that’s not possible.” She reached out for my hand. “Enjoy your sister’s wedding. Afterward we can decide who you should choose for your bride.”

 “What’s a few more months, or years for that matter? Can’t you ask them to give me more time?” For most of my kind, (hmm, and just what is his kind?)  the one hundred and twenty-fifth birthday wasn't a big deal, but for me, Prince of the Reparation, it signified the beginning, or the end. I wasn’t sure which yet.

She squeezed my fingers. "Why are you nervous now? You’ve been preparing for this your entire life."

"This whole thing is pointless. Humans aren’t ready and our people will have to wait another thousand years no matter who I choose. Why can’t I have more time to fall in love?"

"Kieran," She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, looking every bit like the queen she was. "You will do it because the High Council requires it. There is too much at stake for our family and our people."

Ha! Required to fall in love on schedule! Poor thing. 
Anyway...I like this beginning. We know right away that Kieran isn't human, that he's from somewhere else, and that he's supposed to fall in love as Prince of the Reparation - whatever that means. We can also sense his reluctance and his mother's calm that's-the-way-it-is attitude. What we don't know is the backstory (what's the Reparation?), what Kieran has been doing among the humans he doesn't think much of, and who is he going to fall in love with? That's enough to make me turn the page :)

What do you think? Would you read on?

 

THE FOLLOWING

 

As promised, today we have the first page of Scott Abel's THE FOLLOWING, a YA paranormal romance/suspense novel. My comments will be purple and as always, I hope you'll add yours. A big thanks to Scott for submitting and if you'd like your first page critiqued here, by yours truly, just send it along to: unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com.

Marie knew she shouldn’t appear, (the word 'appear' here, implies a suddenness to me, like a ghost might suddenly appear, which may very well be the appropriate word. But if Marie has arrived of her own volition then I might use a different word) and she’d probably get in trouble for it – she’d been warned more times than could be counted. However, the thrill of seeing Parker up close and in person proved far too strong. Besides, if she really were on thin ice with Markus, there was only one way to find out.

Heavy mist matted her clothes against her like a wet paper towel, and the sweet, crisp smell of approaching rain permeated the night air. She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

Cloaked in darkness, she moved in silence, camouflaging and timing every step with each gust of wind and rustle of leaves. Nothing - no sound, no shifting of shadows - hinted at her approach despite her physical presence.

Marie continued her stealthy advance toward Parker’s house. Her pulse quickened when it came into view.

Three large oak trees shaded the front yard, obscuring part of the house, but as she walked closer more could be seen. Except for the white brick, it was a carbon copy of the other ranch-style houses in the neighborhood - long, with a low roof and attached two-car garage on the side. Flowerbeds flanked the front door and overflowed with holly bushes and shrubs. Small lights illuminated a wooden sign carved in the shape of a football with “#12” and “Parker” painted on it. A basketball hoop stood to the side of the driveway, the tell-tale sign that youth inhabited the home. A thick row of trees bordered the driveway as an informal property divider. I like this description - I get a perfect picture - but I might shorten it just a tad.

Marie snuck across the front of the house, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin. 

Well! Lots of interesting and curious things happening here. First, why is Marie sneaking and why will seeing Parker give her a thrill? Who is Parker? And who is Markus? And why will she be on thin ice with him if she's discovered? These questions alone would be enough to make me turn the page to find out what's going on here but, in order to draw me in even further, I want to know something more about Marie. If she's on the first page she must be important, probably a main character. If I'm going to want to follow her I'll need to connect with her more. For example, why is she defying Markus? Does she want to test him? What sort of person is Marie? What's her situation? You don't have to give all of this away - in fact, I'd recommend you didn't! - but maybe just a little more to bond the reader with Marie.

So. That's my opinion of this first page. What's yours? Agree? Disagree? Do tell.

 

This week at Unicorn Bell

 Me again, offering first page (or what have you) critiques for anyone who wants to polish a page or two. I will do my best to tell you what's working, what's not, and how I might go about improving your submission. All you have to do is send me something, 500 word limit, and let me know what genre.

Send submissions to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com

Tomorrow I'll offer my thoughts on the first page of Scott Abel's YA paranormal romance/supernatural suspense novel: THE FOLLOWING.

The Times, They are a-Changin’

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen.
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again.
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin.
And there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’
For the loser now will be later to win.
For the times they are a-changin’. - Bob Dylan

Unicorn Bell, the product of writers, is a-changin’...er, making a few adjustments.

A regular schedule. Our team at UB has individual talents.

• L. Blankenship is gifted at critiquing 1500 word submissions. She takes subs anytime of the month.
• Marcy is expert at First Pages and interviews.
• I, the Huntress of Fantasy, like taming the Query Monster and all its minions including loglines and blurbs.

To give our followers time to submit their chapters, loglines, and first pages, a weekly schedule is in order. Submit with the appropriate request title in the subject line.

Blogfests and book tours. So you want to create a presence online. How to do it?

My publisher, Musa Publishing, suggests bloghops/fests. Enter as many as you can manage. Comment and participate. This gets you out there, puts your name in front of people.

So why shouldn’t Unicorn Bell conduct a regular bloghop too? Good question and now a two word answer: 

• Charity Bradford. She intends to hold a bloghop during some of her weeks.

Book tours. Excitement is building. You have a book coming out! Now you want everyone to get the message.

• Elizabeth Arundel takes command of book tours. 

During her week, she will post all the info you send about your book. Send all pertinent info to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com. In the Subject line, write Book Tour.

Lastly, do you have any special gifts that need an outlet? Would you like to join our team and build a writing platform to impress agents and publishers?

We are taking applicants for Unicorn Bell moderators. Send requests to our email with ‘Moderator Request’ in the subject line.

Your first page here

Interested? It's my week here at Unicorn Bell and I'd love to crit your first page. It could be something you've just started or something you've been working on  - maybe a NaNo project? Whatever you've got, I'd love to see it and offer my opinion, for what it's worth. Oh, and a first page is approximately 300-400 words. Just send your first page to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com along with anything specific you'd like me to comment on.

Of Oak and Dragons

Our final crit of the week comes from Huntress' Urban Fantasy, Of Oak and Dragons. She wants to know if this first page draws the reader into turning the page. Is it confusing or does the change in tense work? 

     When I found the skull, (for some reason I want you to write it this way: Id didn't tell anyone when I found the skull.) I didn’t tell anyone. Not because I was scared or shocked. I was six after all and stuff like that only fueled my imagination.

     My dad thought I hadn’t seen it. (seen or found?) He’d have been sick with fear if he’d known. But coming face to face with a skull – so to speak - wasn’t the problem.

     It was after that day. The dreams. Of being the hunted and worse.

     The screaming.

     Not counting the original owner, only my dad knew about the skull.

     But he died soon after and couldn’t help me.

     (I assume that this is many years after the finding of the skull. If so I think I want to know how long after. Like maybe say: Fifteen years later it isn't my face reflected in the pool...) It isn’t my face reflected in the pool of rainwater or my boots walking through the dry leaves. The hands that caress the iron weapons and trace the molded grips are long-fingered. Callused, not soft like my hands.

Movement from my left makes my belly flutter. They are hunting me.

     They are here.

     The emotions are the same, of desperation and regret. Of defeat and unmet purpose. And my screams when utter failure is all I can expect… I wonder if italicizing might help make it clear that this is a dream...or is it a memory?

     …and waking in my bed.

     With a groan, I fought my way out of the twisted, damp sheets.

     Once again, the dreams had returned crushing my hope that I had seen the last of them. An irritation now that I was in college and on my own. (I hope he(?) has his own place...just sayin' )When I was a kid, sleepovers were nonexistent. One scream-fest was all it took to seal my fate with school friends. Looks of ‘there goes a crazy person’ followed me until I graduated from high school. Saluting them with a mental middle finger helped me to cope.

I think this IS an intriguing first page. It's also got voice and the two combined would make me read on. And I saw the reference to college in the last paragraph but I still want it noted when we are once we move into the future. I like clear transitions. But that's just me so I do hope everyone will chime in and offer their opinion as well.

 

Mirror Mirror

You have all been saved by Lauren from my review of Skyfall (which wasn't going to be favorable). Here is her first page of MIRROR MIRROR. My comments will be in purple and I hope you will offer yours :)

Under Maerset's control, the little bird hovered for a few moments high over the village. In her tower, the witch saw the village from far above, as a bird might see, and spoke the charm which froze the image. Awesome spell.

High in the sky, a piece of glass flicked away from the mirror the bird held. Instead of falling, it hung there, turning ever so slightly, but with the flat surface facing the ground. Notice the active verbs?

Maerset carefully transferred the image to a small hand-held mirror and released the charm so that the tiny piece of glass fell. On the ground, it would be taken for a grain of sand, although brighter and flatter than most. Its use as a focus was done.

The witch took up the mirror and placed it with the hundreds of others lining every wall and shelf in her tower room.

This peaceful time in the countryside was ideal for her purposes. No one was watching for animals that behaved strangely, no one expecting that a weed would be dangerous. There was more than one reason that these people distrusted unexpected plants in the place they called their own. The fields were scoured bare, nothing but tame grain disturbing the soil. This seems to interrupt the narrative. I think there's a better place for this. 

At her tower window she heard a squeak, the little bird speaking to her. She held out her hand for the mirror and it dropped it on the windowsill, staring at her from mistrusting eyes.

"You have done your chore," Maerset said quietly, "and you have your reward." She stepped to the side of the room, where a wire cage hung. Even the bars of the cage were mirrored, reflecting a scene far different than the sparsely furnished tower.

Inside the cage was another bird, this one looking dull and drab, perched forlornly on a bar and watching her mate hopelessly. The witch opened the cage and put a hand in, wrapping it around the bird carefully, pinioning its wings. She held it close for a moment, crooning, then turned and walked to the largest mirror in the room. Standing before it, she gestured, muttered something, and the glass no longer imprisoned the scene in the mirror. A forest stretched before them, and she opened her hand, releasing the female bird into the wilderness.

Quickly, as if he expected his promised reward to be torn from him, the male bird followed.

A moment later the mirror was only a mirror, and Maerset turned away from the view of the empty room. Years, it had been, since she had been able to see her reflection in any mirror. Every mirror in the room, instead of pointing her own face accusingly back at her, was a gateway to somewhere else. That is so cool. Reminds me of an old Star Trek episode.

Each animal that invaded her domain she had managed to coax, cajole or blackmail into carrying a bit of mirror to another place. There were palaces in her collection, tiny villages and even a dragon's den. That had been her one failure, thinking that the dragon could be forced. It had merely taken her bit of mirror back to its home, where it watched her from time to time as if it found her antics fascinating.

Okay. Except for that one paragraph, which just seemed out of place more than anything else, I love this opening. I love the magic that's being done, I love the way it's described, and I'm interested in this witch and what she's doing (Is she trapped in the tower?) and why? I'm also impressed with the active verbs being used which tend to show and the brief but vivid descriptions. I want to know more about this world, find out what's going to happen next.

But. What do YOU think? Did this opening work for you? Did it hook you like it did me or ...what? Do tell.

Search for Knowledge

Today we have one of our very own contributors offering up her first page. This is a sequel and she wants to know whether it pulls the reader in without them feeling too lost? Her goal is to have this book stand alone without having to read the first book to understand what's going on. My comments will be in purple and I hope you will add yours. And thank you Charity!

A month had passed since the mage performed the unbinding spell and put an end to the Draguman threat. In that short time, life on Sendek had changed forever. Fear of the new mage had replaced the gratitude, and it was only a matter of time before the petty arguments turned to something more volatile. That seems like a lot to happen in a short time. And who's the mage in question, I wonder?

"Your Highness, we have to do something before the bar fights turn into a civil war." Landry sat across from his cousin and several other Royalist officers. He looked around the table at the relatively young men. Too many of the older and wiser ones had been lost in the failed military counter-assault against the Draguman.

"Why don't  the mage (mages?) just stop using their magic? They didn't use it before the Draguman threat, so why can't they just return to normal?" One of the new officers looked around the table.

Landry sighed. It was an innocent enough question, but it was an indicator of the lack of understanding in the general public.

"There are a few who would probably prefer to do just that. However, there are many more who've felt a great power. Once you've felt the energy of the planet flowing through your veins it's hard to give up."

Several men stared at Landry, others studied the wood grain in the table. The silence grew heavier by the moment until someone finally spoke the thought running through every head.

"That will make the mage element very dangerous. How do we protect ourselves against something we don't understand?" That's a very good question! And I think you did an excellent job of telling us briefly about something that had happened and presenting the current threat. You can easily fill in more details as you go. I'm also interested in finding out what will happen next between these men and the mages. How will this be resolved?

How about you guys? What do you think?And as of last night I still had a spot open for Friday if anyone is interested.

Gretel

Today we have Rachel’s first page (yay!!!), an MG fairy tale retelling of Hansel and Gretel. My comments will be in purple and do please add yours in the comments.

 

I picked the ripe, red apples from the tree I had so carefully tended, hoping it would help us through the upcoming season. My summer had been filled with planning for the winter ahead. Hansel said I was a pessimist, a worrier, but he was wrong. I was a realist.

Hansel was a dreamer. A lot of telling so far - just saying...

Usually I found his can-do attitude annoying, but not that day. The sun shone through the branches as I picked apples and placed them, one by one, in the basket. Soon the leaves would fall, the very air would freeze and snow would cover the forest. But right then it was warm, there were apples to eat, and if my little brother wanted to believe he could fix everything then who was I to tell him he couldn't?

“How many apples are there?” Hansel asked, shading his eyes from the sun as he looked up at me from where he sat in the grass.

“Enough to last us awhile,” I told him.

“Enough to sell some?” I recognized the barely-concealed excitement in his voice. He was scheming.

I laughed. “Who would want to buy our apples? Everyone has apple trees; they don’t need to buy ours.”

“But not everyone can make applesauce like you, Gretel,” he said enthusiastically, his brown eyes twinkling. “You make the best applesauce, everyone thinks so. Maybe you could sell some, enough to buy some wheat, or maybe even a hen.”

So, I didn't find anything wrong with this first page, that is, no problems with tense or grammar or anything like that. But it didn't feel like MG (not that I'm an expert!); the voice felt old and for a first page there isn't much happening, just apple picking. I know when writing YA one has to immediately capture the reader's attention and I would think that this would be even more important when writing MG. I also wonder about the age of the narrator because she (I assume this is Gretel) sounds like a much older sibling. I would suggest giving Gretel more voice appropriate to her age (which was...12? 13?) and since there seems to be some concern about food have this worry come through in her voice. I'd also try to have something happen, something that will make the readers worry about Hansel and Gretel. Maybe the stepmother is overseeing the apple-picking and making sure they don't eat any, or maybe she's watching from the window. Something to add tension to this first scene and make those kids turn the page.    

Of course, I have to add again I am not a big reader of MG so I hope those who do will chime in and make some suggestions to help Rachel with her first page. And a big thanks to Rachel for submitting :) 

Dear Katherine

Fortunately you are all spared my review of Skyfall – for now. Patricia has graciously allowed me to crit the first page of her current WIP, Dear Katherine, a prequel to Legacy of the Eye. My comments will be in purple and I hope you will add yours in the comments.

William opened the door to his office and asked the pregnant woman to come in and take a seat. She seemed no different than the many others he had met throughout the years. She told her story succinctly and he was impressed at how far she had traveled. She was probably one of the very few who had managed to visit every single inhabited planet in their galaxy. (What? Galaxy? Cool.) She gave him no name and presented herself as a nomad. It was clear from her story that she had the misfortune of realizing the Tetracoil Galaxy wasn’t the open-minded place it was expected to be. (This might be more effective if you showed it through dialogue or expression. Then again, this might slow the story down…depends on how important these two people are, I think. If we aren’t going to see this woman again then I’d tell rather than show.) Throughout his years as head of the Academy, William had seen many women arrive in Demia looking for acceptance and a home for the children in their womb. It was part of his job to hear their story and accommodate their requests.

“So what do you expect from Demia?” William asked when she finished her tale.

“Wisdom,” she said emphatically.

This answer took him by surprise.

Her tears started to flow--probably hormonally driven--and William could see she was struggling to keep control. “I have traveled the galaxy and I found many things. I found appetite; I found thirst. I found many beliefs, most of which contradict each other. What I haven’t found was a reason for existence--mine, yours, everyone’s. I’ve been trying to find my true self and everywhere I look I only find who I’m not...” 

But, um, wait. That was it? Darn. Maybe I should’ve said 500 words! I was just starting to get interested. I wanted to hear what else she was going to say.

Excellent beginning. Now, what do you guys think? What could Patricia do to improve this first page?

THINKING OF YOU - my crit

To save them.

The Enclosure stood alone as if the other buildings were afraid of catching its disease. Hell, I was afraid of catching its disease. Waving grass went on forever, broken only by the long road connecting the Enclosure to the rest of the world. And the two of us. Crouching so our borrowed white uniforms wouldn’t be seen. Watching and waiting.

“Rebbsie. (I think there should be a comma here instead of a period: “Rebbsie, look.”) Look.” Tass pointed, indicating a box truck puttering down the road. The food shipment. Monitoring the Department’s records had paid off. Boarding the truck far enough away  from the building would keep the eye level cameras that bordered the road from seeing us. It was our way in.  Our first step in saving the last living members of our species, the Controllers. Their name for us. We preferred Trols. I don’t think you need what I crossed out here and removing it makes this move along a little faster, which I think is what you want.

My body reacted instantly, knowing the plan before I did. Ground flew under my feet as I ran. My legs stretched, the muscles pulling taut. It felt wonderful after squatting in the grass for so long. Strands of my dark hair flew in my face and I shook my head, trying to clear my field of vision. The pouch that hung from my neck thumped against my chest. Without looking, I knew Tass was behind me just as, without me telling her, she knew what I was preparing to do. I think it reads better without but you be the judge.

We were going to hitch a ride.

The truck sped toward us. I could see the driver’s face. He was a few years younger than me, bobbing his head to the music blaring from his speakers, his eyes hooded. He hadn’t noticed us yet, but he could (could or would? Just curious…) at any moment. After all, we were running right at him, our path forming a forty-five degree angle with the back of the vehicle. If he spotted us, hiding was out of the question; neither one of us had was a senses Trol with the ability to control what he saw, and the nearest shelter was the Enclosure. So, he needed to feel it was okay for us to be there. Though, for all he knew, it was. Still. He had to relate us to something normal. Easy. When you can manipulate thoughts. I wonder if instead of saying what Rebbsie and Tass can’t do, say what they CAN do, like this: “If he spotted us, hiding was out of the question; neither one of us had the ability to control what he saw. But we could control how he felt, make him see us as normal, like we were supposed to be there. Easy. When you can manipulate thoughts.”

I motioned for Tass to get behind me. The rhythm of her footsteps changed as she slowed, falling back.  I waited until their beat again lined up with mine before shooting a wave at him, the pulse of it gathering at the base of my skull, the pressure lifting at my right temple. [Check out that jogger. Man, she’s hot. Maybe I should take up jogging. Bet it’s a nice view from the back.] Not exactly my style, but the thought had to match the mind “thinking” it. In this case, his. Yes, I agree that you didn’t need the last line here. And I think you can remove the brackets, too. I get that she’s projecting what she wants him to feel/think. And yes! This is so much better than the first draft – which was pretty darn good to begin with.

Nice work, Brooke.

Does anyone else have any thoughts? Care to submit a page from your work in progress? It doesn't have to be a first page. I'll take a page from anywhere. Do it!

THINKING OF YOU

Last time I asked for your first pages and this was one I didn't have time to crit but promised to post next. However, I'm going to do things a tiny bit different this time. Instead of me showing you my comments first, I want to see what you guys have to say first and then I’ll post my crit tomorrow. I’m willing to accept two more first page or single page submissions this week if anyone is interested. 

This is the first page of Brooke Busse’s Upper YA/NA light sci-fi, THINKING OF YOU.

To save them.

The Enclosure stood alone as if the other buildings were afraid of catching its disease. Hell, I was afraid of catching its disease. Waving grass went on forever, broken only by the long road connecting the Enclosure to the rest of the world. And the two of us. Crouching so our borrowed white uniforms wouldn’t be seen. Watching and waiting.

“Rebbsie. Look.” Tass pointed, indicating a box truck puttering down the road. The food shipment. Monitoring the Department’s records had paid off. Boarding the truck far enough away  from the building would keep the eye level cameras that bordered the road from seeing us. It was our way in.  Our first step in saving the last living members of our species, the Controllers. Their name for us. We preferred Trols.

My body reacted instantly, knowing the plan before I did. Ground flew under my feet as I ran. My legs stretched, the muscles pulling taut. It felt wonderful after squatting in the grass for so long. Strands of my dark hair flew in my face and I shook my head, trying to clear my field of vision. The pouch that hung from my neck thumped against my chest. Without looking, I knew Tass was behind me just as, without me telling her, she knew what I was preparing to do.

We were going to hitch a ride.

The truck sped toward us. I could see the driver’s face. He was a few years younger than me, bobbing his head to the music blaring from his speakers, his eyes hooded. He hadn’t noticed us yet, but he could at any moment. After all, we were running right at him, our path forming a forty-five degree angle with the back of the vehicle. If he spotted us, hiding was out of the question; neither one of us was a senses Trol with the ability to control what he saw, and the nearest shelter was the Enclosure. So, he needed to feel it was okay for us to be there. Though, for all he knew, it was. Still. He had to relate us to something normal. Easy. When you can manipulate thoughts.

I motioned for Tass to get behind me. The rhythm of her footsteps changed as she slowed, falling back.  I waited until their beat again lined up with mine before shooting a wave at him, the pulse of it gathering at the base of my skull, the pressure lifting at my right temple. [Check out that jogger. Man, she’s hot. Maybe I should take up jogging. Bet it’s a nice view from the back.] Not exactly my style, but the thought had to match the mind “thinking” it. In this case, his.

The Legacy of the Eye - revised

Thank you Patricia for taking the time to revise your first page. Here are my comments

     "Cat, we are stepping into our future and you’re not even paying attention."

     Catrine almost lost her balance when David grabbed onto her arm. She had been so engrossed with their conversation that she had not noticed they reached the gates of the Academy. The wooden bars stood wide open and seemed (seemed or were? Be specific) more decorative than a true barrier to their exit.

     "Our future doesn’t start for another couple of weeks," she said.
     Graduation was still two weeks away and they were only allowed to leave the Academy that day because the Academic Council had granted them an audience.
     "You’re wrong. This is it. Today we make history."
     She laughed. "We should wait until the council approves the Tutor Program before we celebrate."
     "Why would they reject it? You wrote a great proposal. The argumentation is flawless."
     "Just because you couldn’t find any faults, doesn’t mean the council won’t."

     Catrine had hardly eaten anything all day. Her insides were twisted in knots. But she would not to let her nervousness show -- not even to her best friend.

     "You are fretting needlessly," David said. (That seems like a very formal thing to say when the rest of their conversation hasn’t been. Why not have David say, “You’re worrying over nothing.”?) "We discussed the proposal with all the instructors in the department and we addressed their concerns. Everyone loved the idea to teach the rest of the galaxy and the council will too." Teach the rest of the galaxy what? This is very intriguing and a great addition imo.
     Deep down, Catrine knew they were as ready as they could ever be. She had spent weeks writing the proposal and had prepared David’s speech with great care. (Did David help at all with the speech? Isn’t this a we project? If so, maybe say “They had spent weeks… and instead of prepared, which seems a little dull, how about practiced and revised …just a thought) But it was such an ambitious project...
     "I'm just glad you will be the one doing all the talking," she said.

I think this is much improved. What do you guys think?

The Lost Figurehead

 A big thank you to Samantha for submitting the first page of her Middle Grade Fantasy, The Lost Figurehead. My comments will be in purple. I invite you to add yours and help Samantha make her first page the best it can be.

"That boy belongs in jail -- not an orphanage!"

Jeez, Mr. Leland was real stupid to bring that up again.  Just because he weighed as much as a whale didn't mean Finn was afraid to jump him.  He could probably claw out both his piggy eyes, even with a bloody nose.  He cracked his knuckles in preparation, but Sister Christine shot him a warning glare that made him shrink back into the shadows. I'm a little confused by this first paragraph. I assume Mr. Leland is the one speaking and that he's referring to Finn. But who isn't Finn afraid to jump? And what does weighing as much as a whale have to do with whatever happened in the past or the fact that Finn is or isn't afraid to jump whoever?

"A jail, do you hear?"

Sister Christine tore her gaze from Finn.  "Yes, sir, and I can assure you that he will be strictly disciplined."

Finn's stomach dropped.  The last time the sisters had "disciplined" him they had made him polish brass bedsteads.  Didn't Sister Christine see his two black eyes?  He was a victim here!

"Disciplined?" growled Mr. Leland, his pudgy face growing redder and redder.  "The only discipline for a...a...a terror is a concrete bed and barred windows!  He's dangerous!"

"I'm very sorry, sir.  Finn just has a...temper."

"Oh, really?  Well a temper doesn't put a ten year-old kid in the Emergency Room with a broken nose!"

Finn chuckled quietly to himself.  He might have gained a few cuts and bruises, but Bobby Leland had gotten the worst of the scuffle.

"That boy doesn't have a temper!  He has a problem!"

Oh, I'll show you a problem!  Finn flexed his fists, but again Sister Christine stopped him with a look that made him quiver.  She was like Medusa with those eyes.

"I swear, I won't rest until this place is torn to the ground!  You'll be hearing from my lawyer, that's for sure!"

St. Magnus's closed down?  The thought of a giant wrecking ball knocking into the little brick building forced a grin.  Who knew he and Mr. Leland could actually agree on something?

But for Sister Christine, the threat turned her face as white as the coif that peeked out from beneath her veil. Nice analogy.

Aside for the first paragraph, which confused me a bit, I have no other complaints. There's a really great voice here in the narrator, Finn, and his thinking seems exactly like a young trouble-maker to me. I’m also left curious about the fight. What started it? Who is Bobby? Will Mr. Leland make good on his threat and if he does how will Finn react then? I’m also curious as to what power Sister Christine has over Finn since he obviously listens to her. An interesting beginning to be sure!

Dragon

 A big thank you to Alrea for submitting the first page of her, Dragon. My comments will be in purple. I invite you to add yours and help Aldrea make her first page the best it can be.

Chapter One

Maay hummed as she worked the old loom, the dull clack of wood a lullaby to her ears. Sunlight blazed into the solarium, its normally stifling heat cooled every so often by a gust coming through the open windows.  She cocked her head to the sound of footsteps echoing from down the hall. Men. It had to be, for their boots hit the stone with such a racket and the occasional, punctuating clink of metal. I get a good visual here of a woman at a loom but no idea of age. And is Maay correct? Not May? Just asking.

Frowning at the woven threads before her, she idly looped another through the strands. It sounded like guards. What would they be doing here? Not many men came into this quarter of the castle, mostly servants with their soft shoes and irritating tendencies (vague. I'm not sure what this means since I'm not sure 'where' we are yet) to blend into the background.

She glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze (eyes instead of gaze since a gaze can't act of it's own accord.) perused the room, settling on the plants that separated the solarium from the other rooms and screened the bulk of the sunlight from those entering. The green leaves bobbed in the breeze. Bright, inviting and absent of extra shadows.

Yes, she was still alone. Figures. The first time she wanted a servant nearby and there were none around.

Perhaps she was imagining things. Why earlier, Maay could have sworn she'd heard the flap of massive wings. Though she’d risked falling out the window to see, nothing untoward had caught her eye and there weren't many people in this section of the castle to ask. She couldn't leave her weaving incomplete either lest she returned to discover someone, like one of her sweet younger sisters, had lovingly unravelled it.

The shuttle skipped a thread, forcing her to redo the line. She had to finish it in time for the autumn banquet next week. This would be the year she finally did it. (Hmm, do what, I wonder?) Allowing herself to be treated like a child until the next year was unthinkable. Not when this autumn marked her eighteenth year.

Not a lot to crit here but also not much happening. As long as this is aimed at adults I think it's fine but if it's YA you're going to need to more to hold the reader's interest imo, especially with the loom, which is an old fashioned piece of equipment younger readers might be quite unfamiliar with. However, if you could imbue Maay's actions with more urgency, make that skipped thread a bigger deal, then you'll up the tension in this first page. But what do you guys think? How can Aldrea make this even better?