[Critique Game] Post the First Three Sentences of your Novel (moved to The Sandbox)

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neandermagnon

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Okay, here's yet another opening for yet another WIP. This is a dystopian crime thriller. Maybe. I don't know yet.

Comments appreciated.

#

The sheriff came for me before sunrise, up the river's main channel, past the wreck of the Sally III, grandpa's trawler that I pulled nets on before I was old enough to shave. The deputies tied their skiffs to the foot of the pier and climbed out, fumbling with weapons and radios and bullet-proof vests. Overhead, a helicopter whop-whop-whopped in a shallow orbit, its searchlight casting a brilliant spear in the night, all this pointless ruckus crashing down on a quiet bayou boondock where nothing stirred but gators, wood cats, and once in a while a wayward bear.

I love the mental images it stirs up. First time I read it I thought the sentences were too long. Second time I read it they seemed okay so maybe it's just my attention span that's lacking. I'd keep reading.
 

Mamitt

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Okay, here's yet another opening for yet another WIP. This is a dystopian crime thriller. Maybe. I don't know yet.

Comments appreciated.

#

The sheriff came for me before sunrise, up the river's main channel, past the wreck of the Sally III, grandpa's trawler that I pulled nets on before I was old enough to shave. The deputies tied their skiffs to the foot of the pier and climbed out, fumbling with weapons and radios and bullet-proof vests. Overhead, a helicopter whop-whop-whopped in a shallow orbit, its searchlight casting a brilliant spear in the night., aAll this pointless ruckus crashing down on a quiet bayou boondock where nothing stirred but gators, wood cats, and once in a while a wayward bear.

But now there are four sentences, of course.:)
I really liked this!
 

beckethm

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Okay, here's yet another opening for yet another WIP. This is a dystopian crime thriller. Maybe. I don't know yet.

Comments appreciated.

#

The sheriff came for me before sunrise, up the river's main channel, past the wreck of the Sally III, grandpa's trawler that I pulled nets on before I was old enough to shave. The deputies tied their skiffs to the foot of the pier and climbed out, fumbling with weapons and radios and bullet-proof vests. Overhead, a helicopter whop-whop-whopped in a shallow orbit, its searchlight casting a brilliant spear in the night, all this pointless ruckus crashing down on a quiet bayou boondock where nothing stirred but gators, wood cats, and once in a while a wayward bear.

On a technical level, this is really well done, and you're starting with an interesting situation, but there is just too much information packed into those three sentences for me to process. The overall sentence rhythm seems to be at odds with the action: I find the long phrases slow and quiet, while I think the feeling you're trying to create is one of chaos and disruption.

I'd suggest rearranging to try to show the stillness of the bayou before the police arrive, and when they do storm the riverbank, you might benefit from shorter sentences and more auditory cues.
 

kkbe

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Okay, here's yet another opening for yet another WIP. This is a dystopian crime thriller. Maybe. I don't know yet.

Comments appreciated.

Agree with fellow posters, re: fine writing, fine voice, dense sentences.

Tough for me to process and I'd have to pass. Having said that, you chop up some of that, pare it down, you've got me. Oh, and stuff you do pare, you can slip in later on, right? Because you have some great details there.

Off the cuff, something akin to:

They sheriff came for me before sunrise., up the river's main channel, past the wreck of the Sally III, grandpa's trawler that I pulled nets on before I was old enough to shave. The Deputies tied their skiffs to the foot of the pier and climbed out, fumbling with weapons and radios and bullet-proof vests. Overhead, a helicopter whop-whop-whopped in a shallow orbit, its searchlight casting a brilliant spear in the night. All this pointless ruckus crashing down on a quiet bayou boondock where nothing stirred but gators, wood cats, and once in a while a wayward bear.
 
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auntypsychotic

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I've often wondered myself.
The most frequently repeated televised image of that civil war was of the shaking little girl picking up grains of rice from the mud as the blood dripped from her swollen lips. What they cut out was the producer placing ten dollars into her father's hand to allow one of the camera crew to kick her in the mouth. I guess her father needed the money.

The use of "that" implies there's more than one civil war and that the reader knows which one you're talking about.

The second sentence is a little clunky; I'd tighten it with:

What they cut out was the producer giving her father ten dollars to allow one of the camera crew to kick her in the mouth.

I like the world-weary cynicism of the last sentence. I'd definitely keep reading. Finish it, I'd like to see it published.
 

kkbe

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To be honest, I'm not sure if I want to even go back and edit this short story, but I wonder if an opening like this would draw a reader in or just repulse. It's a very cynical first person account of a small scene.

Reach for your quivers, my good friends. Here we go.

The most frequently repeated televised image of that civil war was of the shaking little girl picking up grains of rice from the mud as the blood dripped from her swollen lips. What they cut out was the producer placing ten dollars into her father's hand to allow one of the camera crew to kick her in the mouth. I guess her father needed the money.
Agreed, I'd like to know which civil war.

Second line feels a bit long, a little too wordy? If you pared it a bit to give it a more visceral punch. . . which sounds awful of me. Oy. But if you're going there, do it as cleanly as possible.

I would definitely read on.
 

BethS

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Okay, here's yet another opening for yet another WIP. This is a dystopian crime thriller. Maybe. I don't know yet.

Comments appreciated.

#

The sheriff came for me before sunrise, sailing? rowing? motor-boating? up the river's main channel, past the wreck of the Sally III, grandpa's trawler that I pulled nets on before I was old enough to shave. The deputies tied their skiffs to the foot of the pier and climbed out, fumbling with weapons and radios and bullet-proof vests. Overhead, a helicopter whop-whop-whopped in a shallow orbit, its searchlight casting a brilliant spear in the night, all this pointless ruckus crashing down on a quiet bayou boondock where nothing stirred but gators, wood cats, and once in a while a wayward bear.

I really like this. The atmosphere and description are great. And of course I want to know why they're coming for him or her.

ETA: some have mentioned having trouble with the sentence length, but fwiw, the sentences are well-written, well-balanced, and flow nicely. I don't have the slightest issue with them.
 
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Bing Z

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The sheriff came for me before sunrise, <echo BethS> up the river's main channel, past the wreck of the Sally III, grandpa's trawler that I pulled nets on before I was old enough to shave. The deputies tied their skiffs to the foot of the pier and climbed out, fumbling with weapons and radios and bullet-proof vests. Overhead, a helicopter whop-whop-whopped in a shallow orbit, its searchlight casting a brilliant spear in the night, all this pointless ruckus crashing down on a quiet bayou boondock where nothing stirred but gators, wood cats, and once in a while a wayward bear.

I both like and dislike the first sentence. Like the tone and the scenic. Sentence length is not an issue. But don't like the last part referencing Sally III with a comma that links a dependent clause to a dependent clause. It breaks the melodic pattern. Also, I had to reread that part a couple of times for clarity. I may be dumber than most critters on this thread but having to reread an opening line doesn't seem appealing to me. This can easily be fixed, though, eg by eliminating the comma and/or boat name etc.

Other than the grandpa's boat part, I like this opening.
 

PandaMan

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Okay, here's yet another opening for yet another WIP. This is a dystopian crime thriller. Maybe. I don't know yet.

Comments appreciated.

#

The sheriff came for me before sunrise, up the river's main channel, past the wreck of the Sally III, grandpa's trawler that I pulled nets on before I was old enough to shave. The deputies tied their skiffs to the foot of the pier and climbed out, fumbling with weapons and radios and bullet-proof vests. Overhead, a helicopter whop-whop-whopped in a shallow orbit, its searchlight casting a brilliant spear in the night, all this pointless ruckus crashing down on a quiet bayou boondock where nothing stirred but gators, wood cats, and once in a while a wayward bear.

I like this. I'm your audience. I want to read more.

The mention of animals is always a cool thing, esp. gators, but, IMHO, if the setting were a bamboo forest with a wayward panda, it would be even better. :D

Nice job jcwriter!

ETA: BethS' suggestion of motor boating is a nice visual touch. I also had no issue with sentence length.
 
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jcwriter

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Okay, here's yet another opening for yet another WIP. This is a dystopian crime thriller. Maybe. I don't know yet.

Comments appreciated.

Thanks to all who commented. Maybe this time I can advance to the next three sentences. (Writer's block is a bitch. Wife says I should try "Write-a-mucil... Remove the Block!", but I'm skeptical.)

Anyway, set 'em up, barkeep, reputation points for everyone. Tab's on me.
 

TwoTrees

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First glimpse of an alternate world

From the prelude to my first novel-in-progress, a 'sword and sorcery minus the sorcery' tale. Have at it!

The sea breeze swept inland, drawn inexorably by the hot air rising over the vast desert to the northeast. Amidst the billowing rushes that filled the vast salt marsh, a dragonfly clung, motionless. The winds swirled the tawny leaves and thrashed the heavy seed heads where bright blue and rose tulia finches clung, chattering and feasting on the ripening grains.
 

owlion

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Trying something out with an older YA story.


The chill wind roared through the night, hurling scraps of paper and empty cans along the narrow pavements and into the road. The crumbling buildings which lined both sides of the streets were turned black-grey in the night and not a single one showed signs of life.
Usually, I'd have had the collar of my suit jacket turned up for warmth, but tonight I was grateful for the cool air.
 

owlion

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Okay, here's yet another opening for yet another WIP. This is a dystopian crime thriller. Maybe. I don't know yet.

Comments appreciated.

#

The sheriff came for me before sunrise (I think it would be better to make this more forceful somehow), rowing? up the river's main channel, past the wreck of the Sally III, (New sentence?) It had been grandpa's trawler i.e. back in the good old days..... that I pulled nets on before I was old enough to shave (Bit wordy). The deputies tied their skiffs to the foot of the pier and climbed out (Is this happening now, or in the past?), fumbling with weapons and radios and bullet-proof vests. Overhead, a helicopter whop-whop-whopped (<- unsure about this) in a shallow orbit, its searchlight casting a brilliant spear in the night, all this pointless ruckus crashing down on a quiet bayou boondock where nothing stirred but gators, wood cats, and once in a while a wayward bear. (Extremely long final sentence.)
I like this as an opening, because it raises a lot of questions. However, it seems like it could be stronger.
 

RCtheBanditQueen

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From the prelude to my first novel-in-progress, a 'sword and sorcery minus the sorcery' tale. Have at it!

The sea breeze swept inland, drawn inexorably by the hot air rising over the vast desert to the northeast. Amidst the billowing rushes that filled the vast salt marsh, a dragonfly clung, motionless. The winds swirled the tawny leaves and thrashed the heavy seed heads where bright blue and rose tulia finches clung, chattering and feasting on the ripening grains.

I REALLY liked the pictures and the imagery. It was a lovely tableau. I would keep reading!

There was one part where I stumbled over the wording. When I read "billowing rushes", I was still thinking "wind". So then I wondered what the dragonfly was clinging to. But on second reading I realized rushes were probably plants.

Perhaps the dragonfly would be bobbing and whipping with the stem he is clinging to? (Even though I think I see what you meant there.)

One other comment - you used the words "vast" and "clung" twice each. Even though they are perfect for the images, perhaps synonyms the second time would avoid any repetition.

I have a soft spot for lush word pictures. You have made RC happy. :D
 

Justin K

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Trying something out with an older YA story.


The chill wind roared through the night, hurling scraps of paper and empty cans along the narrow pavements and into the road. The crumbling buildings which lined both sides of the streets were turned black-grey in the night and not a single one showed signs of life.
Usually, I'd have had the collar of my suit jacket turned up for warmth, but tonight I was grateful for the cool air.

Redundancy of the weather.
Redundancy of time.
Redundancy of the geography.
Unnecessary filler words.

Crumbling buildings/no signs of life is also sort of redundant.. but I let it pass. All this aside, I feel that this intro lacks pizazz. At heart it's describing the weather, which nowadays is sort of a don't. Nothing unique is going on. Also, and I could be mistaken but, nobody who's wearing a suit would pop the collar for warmth, that's a style disaster; I think they'd wear a scarf or just deal with it. But on the positive, I like the image you've painted and word choice, I just hope something fantastic happens real, real soon.

 

Justin K

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From the prelude to my first novel-in-progress, a 'sword and sorcery minus the sorcery' tale. Have at it!

The sea breeze swept inland, <surfers might say "onshore flow" loldrawn inexorably <why do I have to pull out my dictionary on line one? by the hot air rising over the vast desert to the northeast. Amidst the billowing rushes that filled the vast salt marsh, a dragonfly clung, clung to what?motionless. The winds swirled the tawny leaves and thrashed the heavy seed heads where bright blue and rose tulia finches clung, chattering and feasting on the ripening grains.

Redundant use of wind/weather in orange words.
Redundancy of word choice in green. As well, "salt marsh" and "desert" are both referring to the same thing, I would combine these. It sort of happens again with "seed heads" and "grains".

I'm not sure what this story will be about, it's starting with mostly weather (frowned upon) forcing small critters to cling to things. One thing I notice is your use, or overuse, of really fancy words that sort of distract IMO from the scene. (inexorably, billowing, tawny). Overall, it was interesting, but I do hope something even more interesting happens soon.
 
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beckethm

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From the prelude to my first novel-in-progress, a 'sword and sorcery minus the sorcery' tale. Have at it!

The sea breeze swept inland, drawn inexorably by the hot air rising over the vast desert to the northeast. Amidst the billowing rushes that filled the vast salt marsh, a dragonfly clung, motionless. The winds swirled the tawny leaves and thrashed the heavy seed heads where bright blue and rose tulia finches clung, chattering and feasting on the ripening grains.

This is very pretty, but--and maybe this is just my post-Christmas haze--there were too many disparate images for me to form a mental picture of the scene. You have three geographical areas (sea, desert, and salt marshes), four plant elements (rushes, leaves, seed heads, grains), a dragonfly and finches. I don't know what to focus on.

With some pruning, I think this would be a captivating start.
 

beckethm

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I thought the scene setting in this was nice, but it could so with some trimming to remove the redundancies that Justin already pointed out. Some suggestions:

Trying something out with an older YA story.


The chill wind roared through the night, hurling scraps of paper and empty cans along the narrow pavements and into the road. Not a single one of the crumbling buildings which lined both sides of the streets were turned black-grey in the night and not a single one showed signs of life.
Usually, I'd have had the collar of my suit jacket turned up for warmth, but tonight I was grateful for the coldcool air.
 

BethS

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From the prelude to my first novel-in-progress, a 'sword and sorcery minus the sorcery' tale. Have at it!

The sea breeze swept inland, drawn inexorably by the hot air rising over the vast desert to the northeast. Amidst the billowing rushes that filled the vast salt marsh, a dragonfly clung, motionless. The winds swirled the tawny leaves and thrashed the heavy seed heads where bright blue and rose tulia finches clung, chattering and feasting on the ripening grains.

It's just description, and contains no hint of a character or a story beginning. Does not make me want to read more, I'm afraid.
 

PandaMan

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Trying something out with an older YA story.


The chill wind roared through the night, hurling scraps of paper and empty cans along the narrow pavements and into the road. The crumbling buildings which lined both sides of the streets were turned black-grey in the night and not a single one showed signs of life.
Usually, I'd have had the collar of my suit jacket turned up for warmth, but tonight I was grateful for the cool air.

I agree with the Justin K's comments regarding redundancy and unnecessary words.

My biggest issue with this though, is the third sentence, with a character flipping up their collar for warmth. I've seen this scene a hundred times to open a story. If I've seen it that often, no doubt agents & editors have seen it thousands of times. You may want to try a fresher scene than that, preferably one that gives a hint of conflict.
 

PandaMan

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From the prelude to my first novel-in-progress, a 'sword and sorcery minus the sorcery' tale. Have at it!

The sea breeze swept inland, drawn inexorably by the hot air rising over the vast desert to the northeast. Amidst the billowing rushes that filled the vast salt marsh, a dragonfly clung, motionless. The winds swirled the tawny leaves and thrashed the heavy seed heads where bright blue and rose tulia finches clung, chattering and feasting on the ripening grains.

Welcome to the thread TwoTrees! :)

I could read an entire book with nothing but description, however, I'm probably not typical. The longer you wait to introduce a character with an issue, the more readers are likely to put your book back and reach for another.

I also agree with Justin K's comments regarding redundancy.

I think you should seriously consider only using one of these sentences to set the scene and/or feeling and get on with the story.

Thanks for posting this TwoTrees.
 

Woolly

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Trying something out with an older YA story.


The chill wind roared through the night, hurling scraps of paper and empty cans along the narrow pavements and into the road. The crumbling buildings which lined both sides of the streets were turned black-grey in the night and not a single one showed signs of life.
Usually, I'd have had the collar of my suit jacket turned up for warmth, but tonight I was grateful for the cool air.

Something about this isn't cohesive for me. Maybe these are loose associations, but I think of a chill wind as a more subtle thing than a roaring wind. I'm similarly unsure of how I feel about hurling as an action performed by wind, since hurling to me associates some physicality with the throw.

Second sentence lacks specificity: what does it mean that the buildings are crumbling? I can't picture what you want me to see. Are they boarded up? Have the bricks fallen from their faces? Are the outer walls ripped off? Are the interiors gutted? Are the buildings made of clay, and are they simply sinking into the ground? If the wind is blowing so intensely, are bits of building flying off?

This placeless feeling is exacerbated by the fact that the description extends to every building all the way down the street.

Lastly, the jacket collar: I'm imagining a vicious wind, not a pleasant chill. Maybe it's just the New Englander in me, but when cans are flying through the air, I like to keep my collar up and my head down.

The sea breeze swept inland, drawn inexorably by the hot air rising over the vast desert to the northeast. Amidst the billowing rushes that filled the vast salt marsh, a dragonfly clung, motionless. The winds swirled the tawny leaves and thrashed the heavy seed heads where bright blue and rose tulia finches clung, chattering and feasting on the ripening grains.

Not much to add to this one that hasn't been said already, but I'll raise a few questions that I've been wrestling with in my own writing: who's telling the story, and to whom? Why this story? Why this starting point and why this conclusion? If someone had to read this aloud to a crowded room, who would read it and who would be in the room and what would hold their attention? Why would you want those people to listen?

Any of your choices might be correct, but I do wonder if these images, while they do establish a mood and a diction, serve your story goals, whatever those are.

*

Here's what I'm working on lately:

I should probably say up front that I’m an atheist. I haven’t believed in you for a long time; I’ve just pretended. My parents made that easy for me.
 
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Lizzie7800

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These are my first 3 lines...I'm kind've scared but go ahead and rip it to shreds if needed. :0

Twenty year-old Olivia Martinelli backed away from the front door of their sturdy brick home when she heard the sound of her parents arguing. If you drove by, you'd never guess the unpleasantness that awaited inside. They lived at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac a few miles outside the city.
 

Blinkk

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These are my first 3 lines...I'm kind've scared but go ahead and rip it to shreds if needed. :0

Twenty year-old Olivia Martinelli backed away from the front door of their sturdy brick home when she heard the sound of her parents arguing. If you drove by, you'd never guess the unpleasantness that awaited inside. They lived at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac a few miles outside the city.

Hmm...I'm not a fan of introducing a character's name and age right up front. It reads like a resume. You should be able to tell me her age by the things she says and the way she acts. But that's just my personal taste. It isn't technically wrong.

That second sentence isn't needed. The arguing parents already imply everything that second sentence said.

Other than that, I think the third sentence is a little disjointed. I'm more interested in the argument than where the house is. Stick with the tension for now, because this is your hook.

I'd keep reading for a paragraph or two more to see where this goes. I hope it would grab me right away. :)
 

SunshineonMe

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These are my first 3 lines...I'm kind've scared but go ahead and rip it to shreds if needed. :0

Twenty year-old Olivia Martinelli backed away from the front door of their sturdy brick home when she heard the sound of her parents arguing. If you drove by, you'd never guess the unpleasantness that awaited inside. They lived at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac a few miles outside the city.

Hi Lizzie. :) This critique really depends on who your audience is. Based on the age of the MC I'm thinking adult, rather than YA.

So, my first question is, is this supposed to be YA? If it is, I'd make her a bit younger. I think 20 is kind of a no-mans zone... Check your genres out to see what the general age is of the MC.

If this isn't YA, I'd drop the age all together. But, I'd also open the story in a different place, because backing away from fighting parents seems like what a teen would do. I think an mid-twenty woman would feel impatient, exasperated, annoyed, maybe worried.

This is just my 2 cents, and by no means do you need to take it. You're the author, this is your baby.


editing to add... (((((((((Big Hug))))))))) So glad you shared. I was shaking in my boots (and still do a bit) when I shared.
 
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