@Kawasaki:

Your post showed up, don't worry! When you reply to someone on a thread, it shows up at the end of the thread posts before it.

Hope that clarifies things for you.

Amber

Title:  Catch up

Genre: Woman’s fiction, psychological thriller

Short pitch:  If there's something bad in your past that you've deliberately forgotten, it stays forgotten. That's what Samantha believed, until the day Daniel suddenly appeared.

First 600 words:

Saturday 7th July

The playground gate clangs shut.  

I turn my head and see a man, in tight jeans and white shirt, taking long, loping steps over the grass towards the bench where I am sitting. Three little boys run, whooping, over to the roundabout where Ellie and Nicola sit, gently rotating, making daisy chains.  When the man is right in front of me he pauses for a moment, grins, and then places himself beside me, so close I have to shift along. He gives a long sigh and then stretches - first his arms above his head, then his legs out in front of him - and shakes back his curly brown hair, like a dog that’s got wet. I move again. Just a few inches. I don’t want to seem rude.

He turns to me and says, 

‘Hi, I’m Daniel,’ in a voice that is husky and strangely intimate.  He stretches out his hand and for a moment I hesitate, but then I slip mine into his. He has a firm grip.  ‘We’ve just moved in to number six on the Green. Me, Tish and the boys.’ He nods over at his children without taking his eyes off me, but I look and see my two girls standing stock still by the roundabout as the boys spin it round as fast as it will go.

‘Oh, right, I’m Samantha. I live at number four,’ I mumble. He lets go of my hand and there seems to be a pause. ‘Next door.’ I add, stupidly.  There is a shrill cry from the children and over Daniel’s shoulder, I see my girls racing to the swings. I clear my throat and sit up straighter but he stays relaxed, crossing his long legs and shaking his hair back again.

‘Samantha,’ he says, rolling my name around in his mouth,  ‘ok.’  He smiles a secret smile, looking down at the back of his tawny hands, and then looks up at me and continues, ‘yeah, anyway, I saw you come over here so I thought I’d bring the boys and let Tish get on with unpacking.’ 

‘Oh. I see.’ I say.

 ‘Jesus! Who’d have thought the junk that a family can have? Last time I moved I only had two suitcases.’ He laughs and then places his left hand, adorned by a thick gold ring on the fourth finger, in the narrow space between us, touching the spread out yellow cotton of my dress. He leans in towards me, looking straight into my eyes, and says, ‘But, Samantha, tell me - haven't we met before?’

I open my mouth to deny it but then something about him lights a spark in my brain. There is something familiar about him. His nose, the shape of his face?  But he is dark haired and dark eyed and that other man was blond with eyes the colour of the summer sky.  I say ‘no, never,’ and he leans back on the bench and sighs. Then he looks at me out of the corner of his eyes and gives a flicker of a wink.

I get up and call the girls.

When we’re home I make myself a cup of tea because my mouth is so dry.  I must have imagined that wink.  And the coincidence of Daniel looking like that other man is just that, a coincidence.  

Sunday July 8th

I am upstairs folding towels and as I glance out of the window I see Daniel washing the car.

Hi I stumbled over here from Autho, thanks to Mr Bad Napkin's advice and have read through my eyes grower wider and wider...pretty lively here

D'Estaing I always thought you were one of the best & most precise critters on autho ( I meant to write critique but auto spell took over)

I'm thrilled that you've taken charge here.  Can anyone make comments re 600 words? or does it have to be full on?

--edited by S E Dyne on 8/28/2015, 6:32 AM--

 Hi Maggie.

Thanks for submitting to the Faux Editors.  Normal caveat, please bear in mind that these are just the opinions of one reader, take what you think might work, throw away the rest.  Also, I haven’t read any reviews of your work, so I’m coming to this unbiased.

I understand women’s fiction likes to push certain buttons, and this does that (a friend of mine has been on TV etc promoting her book.)  The opening line is pure voyeuristic and atavistic catnip, presumably launching your main character into a journey of ups, downs, self-discovery, hookups etc.  I really like moments when her reactions to the disclosure by Sam open a window into her thought processes, and these come across as wonderfully authentic: “She struggled to remember some off-hand remark or forgotten promise” and “Her instincts told her to tread carefully.”  If you can keep that going, I’d be a reader – I want to be inside the minds of your characters, learning about them, predicting their moves, being mistaken and surprised.

This goes to one of the major notes I have about this.  I don’t really buy this situation, as it stands, and I believe the problem is your first line (yes, I can hear your screams already.)  That line is catnip, like I said, but it needs to be surrounded by different dialogue and prose and dramatic tension, otherwise it comes across as artificial, over-thought, trying-too-hard, even not-trying-hard-enough:

“You know why we’re not…” He asked Anna, his usually brash voice trailing off.

Sam wouldn’t meet her eyes. He had cooked this whole fucking Sunday breakfast and hadn’t looked at her once, had barely said anything. But his maple-flavored bacon and the pancakes were incredible, as usual, even if he was being a total…

He looked up at her, a fork of food suspended and dripping above his plate. He finished his unfinished question. “…why we’re not having sex?”

She chewed slowly, slower, looking right back at him like he’d commented on the price of gasoline, as he too often did these days. Her instincts told her to tread carefully. But she could feel already her pulse accelerating, now beating fast in her neck, and the pancake in her mouth felt like cardboard. This was something new for Sam. A tone, a look, she hadn’t heard, seen before. 

Different. Very different.

Bad. Very bad.

(145 words)

Sorry to “re-write” like that, but it was the only way I could see of conveying my point. Apologies.

And I have a few further notes that you can take or leave (some of which duplicate on the above, as they were written before the above):

1) This feels somewhat emotionless and robotic.  I think it’s the starkness of the dialogue (“Do you want to know…”), and maybe the reactions (Is there a good answer to this question? she wondered –that’s her response???)

2) Dramatic tone.  So, he puts this question and the prose turns to…”sizzling maple-flavored bacon…batter onto the griddle.  The scent of his famous pancake breakfast…”  I have to apologize, but this is one of the strangest juxtapositions I’ve ever read.  Consider the tone you’re going for, and stay with it – isn’t this the wrenching breakup of a long marriage? 

3) Continuity, and continuing with the above, if he’s about to break up (as he is, surely one of the most difficult things we ever do) why on earth is he doing it while cooking a great breakfast?  If you slowed down and explored his emotions a little bit more, that would be a huge help.

4) Minimizing emotions.  “entered a time warp” isn’t how I’ve felt when given terrible news, my mind’s been a long way from time-warps.  Think about a more humanly relatable way to describe it.  The para that begins “Her instincts told her to tread carefully” is much more relatable and human – I start to get them as more rounded individuals, and I’d encourage you to aim for that.

5) Skimming the emotions. And then there seem the moments you seem to want to bypass the true emotions: “stared down at the floor” “She was stunned” “the words hurt” “Her heart beat erratically and her mouth dried up” “eating me up”

6) His voice.  You variously call his voice soft, modulated then softened.  Yet we have no description of him.  I find that unbalanced, as we have a description of her, see below.  Plus, you make him sound like a sorry-assed wuss, which may be intentional guy-rubbishing, but comes across as inconsistent with his bluntness.  In any case I imagine he disappears from the scene pretty quickly after this, possibly to a fiery and well-deserved death.

7) Physical.  I don’t get a sense of what she looks like, how old she is – and is she still attractive? Is he? Just little clues. You did this when you talk about her abandoned run, but she seems to eat like a horse too – I can’t figure out if she’s thin or fat.  Maybe in this genre it’s off-limits to do that, so you don’t lose the empathy (?) of your readers.  But doesn’t that make Anna something of a cipher?  Aren’t our lives and characters, in some part, determined by our physical attributes?  Ah well…

 8 ) Room to be more creative.  “His hands were cold” feels unoriginal, as does “hole opened in the kitchen floor.”

9) Typo. “she’s never felt with Sam before” => she’d

So, right now I really do like portions of this as you can tell, but not enough to keep reading on. I’d really like for you to come back with a recasting of this that gets more into Anna’s mind, if you’d be willing to do that, either privately or on this thread.

Best of luck with this.

TSWS

BAD NAPKIN

--edited by T.S.W. Sharman on 8/28/2015, 7:57 AM--

Just create a new thread with a boring title like "fingernail descriptions" and let us know.  It might be of interest to more than just me, but I agree that detailed back and forth should largely be conversations outside of this thread, so people can focus on the submissions and reviews.

TSWS

Hi Eira. I haven't "taken charge" , I'm just trying to duplicate a thread that (I think) we all liked over on Authonomy, and the moderators here have given the go ahead for a trial run.

I'm not sure about everyone commenting on the submissions. While I've no objection in principle (I wouldn't hold my critiquing standards or opinions above anyone else's), the thread might get a little chaotic if everyone feels they're entitled to comment on everyone else's submission. Why not, if you feel strongly, contact that author direct with a point about their opening that you'd like to make? I'm sure they'd appreciate the personal interest/contact, and that way the thread works, not as an end in itself, but as a conduit to promote wider conversation and more activity across other people's book pages, which is really what it should all be about.

I think that would also be more in keeping with the forum philosophy over here at BookCountry.

Title: Danielsford

Genre: mystery/supernatural

Pitch: Salesman Frank Jackson drives into the past and unwittingly releases his worst nightmare.

                                                                                            Chapter One

Seeing the little town when I topped the hill on the twisting, two-lane road gave me a sense of relief. In the nearly fifteen years I traveled the highway, twice a week, the village had become something of a symbol. Sherburne Center sat at the bottom of the hill only a few miles from Rutland, Vermont. It was the last town before my destination.

From the top of the hill, the scene was typical New England. In the eyes of many photographers and visitors that meant typically Vermont. The tall, white spire of the church reaching above the green maple trees that surrounded it was picture postcard perfect, but not quite as I remembered. Here and there, partly hidden by the trees, I could see a rooftop or the side of a building.

The buildings didn't look the same as I remembered either, but I dismissed the thought. I saw a lot of towns in my travels, and I was tired from the long drive from Boston.

The road passed through the village. At the edge of Sherburne Center it turned into a dirt trail, something clearly out of the ordinary. I slowed and prepared to stop for construction or I didn't know what. I wondered if I had made a wrong turn somewhere, while at the same time knowing I didn't.

Instead, I saw a sign, ancient and worn looking, proclaiming my entry into Danielsford, founded in 1693. I had to slow to a crawl to keep my car from being beaten up on the rutted dirt road as I rolled into the village proper.

I wondered again if I had mistakenly gotten sidetracked somewhere along the way. I knew I hadn't. There were no forks in the road. The highway I traveled is a straight shot from west to east through the state. I took no turns, nor did I encounter any road construction forcing a detour that could have confused me.

The houses and what I assumed to be businesses were large, drab looking affairs painted in dull browns or lifeless reds. They looked old but I could tell that they were of fairly new construction. For the size of the homes, the windows were oddly small and few in number.

Similar houses and buildings exist but not in Vermont. The structures were reminiscent of any of a number of Massachusetts coastal communities. Creeping along on the rough road or trail, I spent nearly as much time gawking at the buildings as paying attention to the road.

I muttered something about entering a time warp. It was as if I had driven into the past. That isn't unusual in Vermont where time even today seems to have halted in some of the smaller villages. The feeling was intensified in Danielsford. Everything I saw spoke of age while at the same time not being old.

 On my left was the sparkling white church whose steeple I saw from the hill. It sat in stark contrast to the other buildings. The shining white paint seemed as out of place as the church. 

--edited by Charles J. Barone on 8/28/2015, 7:50 PM--

Title:  Where I Belong by Maggie Smith

Buried in the first paragraph, after the initial bombshell, is a rather disconcerting POV shift; hard to see, but it's there and it's why that first opening hasn't the dramatic punch it should have. After a dream opening line, you really are hanging on to see how Anna responds. But instead, she says "I'm sorry, what did you say?" So she didn't hear what Sam said? How come we did if we're in Anna's POV? IF she hears what he says, she must respond. If she doesn't quite hear him or she doesn't make sense of what he's saying (the words are muffled by the sizzling bacon) then we don't either.

I'll resist the temptation to do a complete rewrite, but just to nail her initial reaction:

 "Do you want to know why we're not having sex?" Sam asked as Anna walked into the kitchen. 

"What?" she said, frowning. What was he talking about? She reached for some plates. It was a sunny Saturday morning in early September and she was dressed in sweats, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail.  She'd been going for a run, but the sizzling maple-flavoured bacon smelled gorgeous.

Sam turned off the stove, faced her directly, and placed his hands flat on the counter-top. He stared at her. "I said, do you want to know why we're not having sex?"

She put the plates down, on the counter beside the hob.

"What are you talking about, we…"

"I don't think I love you any more, Anna"

And after that as you were.

It does beg the question why does he mumble this line over the cooker when she was going out for a run? How does he even know she's there, if his back is turned?

In the next para you're filtering. "for what felt like a very long and disquieting moment". Was it a long and disquieting moment, or did it just feel like one? Why do you need "for what felt like" in that sentence?

"Is there a good answer to this question?" doesn't sound like the visceral reaction to this line that one would expect. It sounds like a bit of rhetorical wordplay. It makes one think she doesn't care two hoots whether they're having sex or not.

I'd ditch the time warp phrase. Again, her reaction has surely got to be more visceral, more gut-wrenching?

"she replied in a teasing tone of voice" - this entire speech tag unnecessary. We know it's her talking. We can tell immediately from the words that she's kind of like "What, like since five minutes ago?"

"Had she done something to upset him?" - good. Now we begin to get the feeling that she's taking it on board. She's beginning to think.

"A few moments went by, but it seemed like hours." - ineffectual description, because you don't show us anything that's going on in this period.

"She was swamped by a fear she's never felt with Sam before"- mixture of tenses. Should be "she'd".

"but the distance between them felt too great." - "But there was a sudden, new distance between them". Dislike the word "felt" unless absolutely necessary. In this case it's perhaps a matter of taste.

"Sam was clearly in the midst of some kind of mid-life crisis." - seems a bit flippant?

After that, pretty good. You capture the enormity of the emotional apocalypse that's about to break over her. I'd still prefer "A gaping hole was opening in the kitchen floor and she was falling into it" rather than "it felt as though…"

Summary: Agent ready? Not quite. You've got a bombshell of an opening line, but you fail to deliver on it with the next couple of hundred words, for one reason or another, so the effect is dissipated. I'd concentrate on getting that second paragraph absolutely right. I think once you've got that right, your evident writing skills will carry you through the rest of the scene. Since it can't get much more emotional than this (surely?) that will stand you in good stead for the rest of the book.

Thanks for posting.

I've put my YA mystery thriller "Evenrood" up on BookCountry. http://www.bookcountry.com/BookDetail.aspx?BookId=8382

You're all welcome to have a look at that, to see how it should not be done.

Title:  A Surfeit of Deceit, by Kawasaki

For the purposes of this thread, I need a little more detail about the book than given in your tag line. It doesn't need to be a one line synopsis of the entire plot, but it needs to be something that tells me what this book is about. Not a fault, just for future reference.

I've finished the first paragraph and I already know that this is a very distinctive voice. It's well written, heavily stylised with a great line in alliteration and assonance. But I'm already worried that it's overdone. Let's carry on and see if you can pull this off.

"She keeps pace till they reach the sidewalk, then Rash weaves ahead through the crowds standing around like me waiting for latecomers."- I briefly lost the thread half way through this sentence. When I reread it, I now can't really see why: the meaning appears clear like one of those optical illusions that once the face in the vegetables is pointed out to you is unavoidable. But I did.

I don't really follow why, if she's super-glamorous, that explains his being late? And " 'splain"? I'm going to struggle with constructions like that outside dialogue - perhaps that's just me.

"on approaching" - not necessary

"a nearby gaggle of girls happily hysterical" - okay, enough of the word pairs already.

You could cut "whatever".

"petite Japanese features" - you had me at "honey-coloured almond-shaped eyes". I think we gathered she wasn't Mexican.

"tealightful" - no. Just no.

By the brevity of the above you can tell that it's well written. There's very little even for the most assiduous editor to take issue with. The only problem you're going to have is convincing an agent that your very distinctive voice will appeal, and I don't think that's the problem really, it's more that you're just going to have to find the right agent.

Summary:  Agent ready? Possibly, yes. The alliteration became too much for me halfway through. Do you continue it in the same vein throughout the book? That would be exhausting. So perhaps tone that down a little? There are the one or two slightly overwritten passages, and I'm sure you put "tealightful" in for a joke. I suppose if I was being picky, the other issue with this as an opening passage is that we don't find out much about your MC.  Rash is by far the most interesting character in the piece, but we don't get to be Rash (which I have a hunch would be quite exciting) because we are in the gaijin head of boring old unemployed Tim. You're treading a fine line then, having your first 600 words merely telling us about another character we don't get to be. The strength of the writing, however, would give me some confidence that normal service asserts itself at some point in the next page or two.

Thanks for posting.

D'Estaing - Evenrood http://www.bookcountry.com/Bookdetail.aspx?BookId=8382

Hi Charles,

Thanks for submitting to the Faux Editors.  Normal caveat, please bear in mind that these are just the opinions of one reader, take what you think might work, throw away the rest.  Also, I haven’t read any reviews of your work, so I’m coming to this unbiased.

There are some nice touches in this work, that gave it a good voice and won my interest: I particularly liked “I’ve fallen victim to daylight robbery” (though it didn’t quite deliver on the promise); “I yank my phone out to ding him”  “I throw him a wave, wishing it were a rock, and cop a swerve of direction in return.”  I also liked most of the paragraph: “His family name is Nakayama, Nakajima or possibly Nakamura or Nakamatsu. Whatever, he’s long stopped answering to it, saying it was a pain to keep correcting foreigners as to which Naka he was. Now he’s just Rash: a quasi-affectionate moniker bestowed on him by a French acquaintance after the Akira Kurosawa movie Rashomon.”  This was a fun and authentic little digression, that went too far for me when you précis the film itself.

I also got something of a sense of place with the phrase: “Shibuya, Japan’s glamorous, clamorous capital for the teens and twenties.”  This did a lot, cleverly, though I would in fact have liked a little more description of place.

However, I didn’t get caught up in the story because – unfortunately – nothing really happens in this first 600, and there’s a lot of unimportant things going on, that if necessary could be covered later.  What we have are two people meeting, and one unexpectedly brings along an attractive girl.  That’s not suspense thriller for me. 

As to other suggestions/notes:

1) Title.  I just don’t react well to it.  I think it’s the ‘surfeit’ which just sounds wrong, even though it’s plausible to have an excess of deceit.  It sounds like an HH Munro title.

2) SP.  I think you may be the only person in the world who really believes this.  I suspect a lot of readers/agents will read this and go – huh?

3) Tealightful.  This pun was a bit of a low point for me.  Put it in the mouth of the girl, and it could be quite amusing to have Tim’s reaction.

4) “a story that presents different viewpoints of the same incident.”  Another low point.  It’s not even a very interesting description of the film. Suggest you take it out and leave it to the reader.

5) Pace. There are too many stops for background. ‘Rash too spins a convincing tale” etc. the whole thing about acting and waitressing and the tea room is completely uninteresting, as we don’t really care about any of these characters yet.  Both of the last two paragraphs fall into this camp too. Sorry.

Other.

“comings and goings, greetings and groanings” – doesn’t work, a cliché followed by something worse that mirrors it (the groanings is the villain if that isn’t clear.)

‘charging hordes’ – charging is odd

Bodies block my view but the heads turning to check her out ‘splain why the dude’s late – how is it the bodies block his view, but he’s already seen them coming.  Doesn’t work logically.

‘honey-colored almond-shaped eyes’ – yikes, this feels straight from YA romance, do you really want that?  How about authentic description, like as Tim would say it to a friend, not a writerly cliché.

Shapely figure – you guessed it, cliché.

We exchange greetings.  Actually, this is the one part I’d maybe like to see a little more – if there’s something about the greeting that is culturally interesting.  If it’s just “hi” and “hi” then don’t bother.

‘Rotten.’  Either archaic schoolboy language or incorrect word choice.  Neither works for me, and yet this is possibly where it could get interesting.  My ears have pricked up.

So overall, this was a miss for me.  I hope some of the notes here may be helpful, but see what other reviewers say and look for consistency in feedback.  I’d be happy to take a look at a future version.

Best of luck with this.

TSWS

--edited by T.S.W. Sharman on 8/29/2015, 11:13 AM--

 Hi PurpleProse,

Thanks for submitting to the Faux Editors.  Normal caveat, please bear in mind that these are just the opinions of one reader, take what you think might work, throw away the rest.  Also, I haven’t read any reviews of your work, so I’m coming to this unbiased, though I do remember this vaguely (I believe) from Authonomy.

What I like about this the most is that within the 600 you launch the essential drama of this – a strange encounter with a man who resembles someone from her past, but not quite.  I like her uncertainty: “I must have imagined that wink.  And the coincidence of Daniel looking like that other man is just that, a coincidence.” I like her reactions to the invasion of her space, and her concern at not seeming to be rude, which came across as very authentic: I think my favorite line here is: “He laughs and then places his left hand, adorned by a thick gold ring on the fourth finger, in the narrow space between us, touching the spread out yellow cotton of my dress.” That’s actually both rude and creepy.  Could you even start there, rather than the pedestrian “The playground gate clangs shut”:

“The stranger sits next to me on the park bench and stretches out. He places his left hand, adorned by a thick gold ring on the fourth finger, in the narrow space between us, touching the spread out yellow cotton of my dress. I stare at the finger out of the corner of my eye, offended, my breath suddenly shallow.”

You also work in a lot of background and description quite cleverly: I get a good feel for Daniel, what’s he’s like. But I get less of a sense of her, other than what I can gather through the facts she’s a mother wearing a yellow dress.  I’d like a touch more implied description if you can work it in.

Lastly, I also like that you’re in first person present, with the benefits of immediacy that it brings.  Overall, I’d read on.

As to my notes on areas to consider working on:

1) Location/physics.  I get why you chose the playground, and the bench – it enables the creepiness of a stranger invading your space.  But I didn’t buy some of the other “staging” of this.  First he’s stretched out, then he’s shaking her hand (which is odd, but I can let that pass.)  If they’re side by side and he’s leaning back how can we have “He smiles a secret smile, looking down at the back of his tawny hands, and then looks up at me” unless she’s looking at him, which makes her weird.  I’d prefer to have her looking straight ahead, frozen, wondering whether he’s looking at her.  Same goes for “leans back on the bench and sighs. Then he looks at me out of the corner of his eyes and gives a flicker of a wink” – how can she see that – and she needs to see that wink.  Maybe move them to another part of the playground to enable a face-to-face interaction.

2) The roundabout.  I didn’t get it so clearly on first reading, but the eviction of the quiet girls from the roundabout is a nice touch, and sets an uncomfortable tone. Maybe play it up a little so it comes out more clearly.  Maybe she and Daniel speak different reactions to it.

3) Her reaction to the wink.  You English and your cups of tea!  “When we’re home I make myself a cup of tea because my mouth is so dry.” Here’s the (slightly) Americanized version: “When we get home five minutes later I tell the children to go upstairs and play. I go straight into the kitchen, pour brandy into a wine glass. My hands are trembling, and I almost drop the stupid glass. I drink it straight down. I’ve never done that before in my life. Jesus, it’s not even three-thirty.  My hand won’t stop shaking. I must have imagined that wink. Another brandy.”  Yesiree!

4) As I read it I suspect the pacing and word choice could possibly better reflect the sudden shift from a pleasant day in the playground to weirdness and anxiety.  Right now it feels a little too calm and even-paced, I’d like to see it become more staccato (you do this a little.)  I’d also like to see if shift from loving adjectives to no adjectives, blunter words and even some swear words.

5) Short Pitch: “If there's something bad in your past that you've deliberately forgotten, it stays forgotten.”  You basically put the entire science of psychology back about 100 years.  Just kidding, but I don’t believe you can deliberately forget something (or even deliberately repress something.)  Plus ‘bad’ is kind of weak.  How about: “Sometimes the past can be so deeply buried it’s gone, forgotten. But it never truly is, as Samantha finds out the day Daniel walks into her life.”

6) I’d look for a more impressive opening line.  The one you have isn’t very grabby.

Smaller things:

where I am sitting => I’m.  There are a couple of instances where a contraction will make this more authentic and readable.

voice that is husky and strangely intimate – I’m a bit on the fence about this, seems too chick-lit to my ears. And maybe “strangely intimate” deserves a more exploration – why is his voice triggering that reaction in her?

like a dog that’s got wet – this just conjures up completely the wrong image – I think you’re going for more of a men’s shampoo commercial image, which would be better.

‘Oh. I see.’ I say.  That feels weak, and doesn’t read well.  I would think something more like: ‘We’ve got to head home in five minutes,’ I say.  It would have been a lie a minute ago, but now all I want to do is go home.

tawny hands – seems an unnecessary detail, and a weird adjective to my ears.

So, I quite like it, it rises above a lot of the women’s fiction I’ve encountered.  However, I’d be worried that if you shipped it to agents you’d be a little premature.

Best of luck with this

TSWS

Title:  Catch up by Purple Prose

Pitch: On the short pitch, I'm just not really convinced that that's true: "If there's something bad in your past that you've deliberately forgotten, it stays forgotten." Well yeah, it does, unless something reminds you of it, and then it all gets dragged up again. So the first sentence to me isn't correct and the second is then saying the obvious. The gist of your pitch is: "Samantha thought she had successfully buried the past. Then Daniel showed up." If you expand on that a little, perhaps that would work.

Text: Something about "long, loping steps" jars a bit. It may be the duplication of meaning in long and loping, or it might just be the word "steps". Can you step "lopingly"? Shouldn't it be pace, or stride?

I don't know why there's a new para at "Hi, I'm Daniel". Perhaps it's a formatting issue?

If this family has just moved in next door, I'm surprised there isn't more acknowledgement of that fact by Samantha. "Oh, you're the family that's moved in. We're at number four, next door. We saw the removals van yesterday. Been meaning to pop round…" all that guff people say when they're trying to figure out whether the people moving in next door are going to be an asset to the neighbourhood or a nightmare.

What's the reason for detailing the kids' movements around the playground? It's distracting me from the conversation on the bench. When I read "There is a shrill cry from the children…" I thought ha! So the psychopath who's moved in next door has psycho kids too and they've just strangled Ellie and Nicola with their own daisy chains. But no, they've run off to the swings. So what?

"ok" is an abbreviation of okay. You should use the latter, really.

What's a "secret smile"?

"I saw you come over here" - so he followed her over the road to the playground? That's either creepy, or it could just be clever, or both, but again, I'd think there would be more reaction from her, not just "Oh. I see". Her passivity in the conversation is very odd. It doesn't make sense because at the moment we don't know who he is. There's nothing remarkable about him. She hasn't mentioned the familiarity thing yet. If she mentioned this earlier, then perhaps her mental state of disquiet (which you tried to establish by having him invade her personal space) would have been better established.

I like it. It's another technically well-written piece, but you don't, for me, quite nail her mood.  He does all the talking and she just sits there. But, if she has already been thrown by the resemblance of Daniel to this other guy from her past, we don't know about it until the very end, so her muteness is inexplicable, out of context.

Summary: Agent ready. I don't think so: This opening scene could do with a little more clarification of her mind-state, for me. But I must say that women's fiction isn't my strong point. Perhaps all this would be abundantly clear to your readership from the mere discomfort of having a stranger sitting down next to you on a park bench and winking at you. I found when I lived in Central London that sitting watching your kids play in a playground was one of the few times strangers got to talk to other parents they didn't know. So my response to his idea of following her over to the park is actually - oh, what a good idea: introduce yourself to the neighbours on neutral ground. That's probably not the response you were trying to spark.

 A late thought: Maybe make more of the wink? Perhaps it's just that kind of wink that the other guy used to give her? Perhaps their conversation is all normal and usual until he winks, and that sparks a whole raft of recollection that scares her to death?

Thanks for posting.

D'Estaing

 Evenrood http://www.bookcountry.com/Bookdetail.aspx?BookId=8382

--edited by D'Estaing on 11/26/2015, 9:22 AM--

Title: Danielsford, by Charles Barone

Pitch: Not original. I've seen either a film or read a short story or something with exactly this premise in the last twelve months. If I can remember what it is in the course of this review I'll mention it. That's not necessarily the end of the world, but is there something unique about your version of this story? If so (and I hope there is for your sake), get it in the pitch.

Text:  I'm a bit thrown by the name Sherburne Center. Is this a building (as in "The Sherburne Center"), or a mall or something, or is it the name of the village? I presume it's the name of the village but it threw me off a second trying to work it out. Then the next sentences don't quite play out. Sherburne Center was a few miles from Rutland. "It was the last town before my destination". You've said Sherburne Center is a village. But now you're calling it a town, unless the town you meant was Rutland which is "the last town before my destination" which is somewhere else further down the road. So what is his destination? Rutland?

"From the top of the hill, the scene was typical New England. In the eyes of many photographers and visitors that meant typically Vermont." - not sure I get the point of this rather long side-track. Is your narrator being vague then, and he should be saying "typically Vermont". In which case why doesn't he just say the scene was typical Vermont? Better, why not just describe the scene, than rely on your reader's possibly sketchy knowledge of what Vermont, precisely, looks like. This reads  to me as if you, the author, have read lots of books which describe scenes as "typical New England", and by their subsequent description, you know better than most that the scene you've just read is actually typical of only Vermont, and not to be found anywhere else in New England. That irritates you, so you're setting the record straight. I'm sure you're right, but I don't think the opening few hundred words of your own book is the place to do it. Just describe the scene, in as few words as possible.

"but not quite as I remembered" - I see where you're going with this. But this first instance of not recognising the neighbourhood jars with the fact that we have already been told he travels this highway twice a week. What's happened meantime? You've given us no clue that something odd has happened, that this journey is in any way different from all the previous journeys he has made. The thing is, that if nothing has happened, then he should be instantly considerably more perturbed than he shows himself to be here. Buildings don't just materialise overnight or in the space of a few days. Just saying he was tired from the long drive doesn't really cut it for me.

I don't know Vermont (would love to, that's a trip I will have to take some time). Is the actual spire of the church white? Isn't it slated on top? I can visualise a white steeple with a grey spire on top but I'm struggling with an all-white spire. And "picture postcard perfect" is a bit of a cliché and picture-postcard should be hyphenated.

"The road passed through the village" - well the road isn't going to avoid the village. I took this to mean that he has driven through the village, on the road, but it's only when I read on that I realise he's just got to the edge of the village and hasn't yet gone through it.

"At the edge of Sherburne Center it turned into a dirt trail" - again, a road doesn't just disappear. Would he really just continue driving? Later on you say that the highway was a straight shot from east to west, which means he's on I4, from Woodstock to Rutland and on into New York State. Well an Interstate doesn't just disappear. He would be on the phone, asking someone what the hell is going on. Instead, this guy keeps on driving, even though the village name announces he has arrived somewhere else ( Danielsford, est. 1693, pop. 1 )

"I wondered again…   …confused me." - this whole paragraph strikes me as just a listing of all the reasons that your struggling reader is going to come up with to explain not only the change in scenery, but the MC's passive acceptance of same. It doesn't work. It's uninvolving.

 ""They looked old but I could tell that they were of fairly new construction." - how could he tell this, driving past? And what does he mean, anyway? That someone has knocked up a whole retro 17th century New England village since the last time he passed through? I know what you do mean, that he is now back in this time-slip other world, but "old-looking but actually new" seems a lame way to describe it.

"I muttered something about entering a time warp." - what did he mutter? Why are you keeping it from your reader? I'm not sure you know what he did actually say - you haven't thought it through.

I'll stop there. I appreciate the concept you're trying to get across here. Guy travelling through Vermont on his usual run home. Suddenly, something's not quite right about his surroundings - not what he's used to. Everything's old fashioned. He's fallen through some time-slip into another era. I think there are a few problems:

Firstly, nothing has happened to him to let us anticipate that from now on, things are going to be different. I think in the other film I watched, the people travelling in the car knocked down a girl standing in the road, or at least, thought they did. When they got out of the car to look, there was nothing there. They went  to report it in the next village, and from then on, weird stuff happened. And they could never leave, every road leading to a "Welcome to Whereversville" sign. You might argue that you don't need an "event" to trigger the slip into the past. Okay. Personally it makes the sudden slip very hard to accept. He's driving home and suddenly everything is different. My reader's brain is just shouting "Why?" Were there no lights in the sky, a strange mist, a hitchhiker with an eye-patch who gets in the back but can't be seen in the rear-view mirror?

Secondly, if he has experienced this weird time-slip, he seems strangely nonchalant about it. The I4 has disappeared and been replaced by a dirt trail. He's just, "Oh, things look a bit different". Where was all the other traffic on the I4? Was he the only car travelling East-West? Was there nothing coming the other way? Perhaps if you could get him to turn off the highway onto a side road with which he's not familiar. Perhaps he needs to take a leak, something totally prosaic. He pulls off the interstate, drives far enough so that he's hidden from the traffic, gets out, takes a leak, gets back in, turns the car round, but then can't find the Interstate again. Checks his GPS, he's only a few minutes from Sherburne, he'll rejoin the I4 there. He sets off driving through the woods, recognises a couple of landmarks that tell him he's at the edge of Sherburne, then the road turns into a dirt trail… and so on. But now I've started rewriting it, an intrusion as pointless as it's likely to be unwelcome; it's your book.

I never did remember the name of that other film, but "The Monster Club" has a similar premise. It's not the one I was thinking of though.

Summary: Agent ready. No. Needs quite a bit of work to make the plot logical and to give us any insight into who the MC is. At the end of 600 words we know nothing about him apart from the fact that he may or may not live in Rutland VT. Not enough.

Thanks for posting.

D'Estaing:

Evenrood. http://www.bookcountry.com/Bookdetail.aspx?BookId=8382

--edited by Peter Carlyle on 8/31/2015, 9:27 AM--

Hi, I'd like to introduce myself as part of this team, and tell you a little bit about how I work.

On Authonomy, I was on the panel of Faux Agents, who offered a similar facility to that of the Faux Editors on the G600 thread.  The aim of the Faux Agents was to replicate the experience you are likely to have when you submit your work for real, and I've personally reviewed almost 1,000 book openings on the FA thread.

A Real Life agent’s job is not to read submissions.  His job is to look after the interests of his existing clients.  He works hard—chasing up contracts, advising, managing, schmoozing publishers, etc—and since publishers have largely stopped accepting direct submissions, the slush pile now falls to agents.  He has to fit reading mss into his spare time.

So… we have our busy agent, and at the end of a long day—or perhaps during the lunch hour while he’s trying to eat a sandwich—he starts ploughing through what might be twenty submissions that land on his desk every single day.  Now, our agent can take on only one new client a year (perhaps two).  But he still has to look at about 5,000 submissions a year.  Suffice it to say, what he’s looking for is not the next Nobel Prize for Literature winner, but an excuse to put the submission on the reject pile.

Spell his name wrong on the envelope, fail to follow the submission guidelines, send work full of typos, bad grammar, etc., or poorly presented, and you’ve given the agent the perfect excuse to say, “No thanks, not quite right for us” and to pass on to the next in the pile.

So let us assume your submission is spotless, and you’ve jumped through the first hoop.  How much will the agent read of it?  Not much.  He’s experienced; he can tell within a page or two (roughly 600 words) whether it’s worth reading on beyond that point.  Remember, he’s looking for an excuse to ditch it, so those 600 words have got to hook his interest. 

So what I’ll be looking for in your submission is the hook that sends me to your book page to keep me reading.  And you’ve got only 600 words in which to do it.

And you’ll get from me a knee-jerk response, as you will from the Real Life agent you submit to.  But instead of giving you a form rejection, I’ll tell you where I stopped reading and, if I’ve got time, I’ll tell you why.  

Hi there, Purpleprose, I seem to remember seeing this before on Autho.  I believe it has improved since then, but it still doesn't quite ring the bell with me.

The Short Pitch makes no real sense---forgetting something is a lapse in memory (and therefore a negative) and to deliberately do so is a positive.  I think what you mean is that the memory has been deliberately buried.  So this needs some work.

Also, just because you have 600 words, doesn't mean you have to use them all.  This submission would have had far more punch had you left off the "Sunday July 8th" date and sentence.

The clanging gate doesn't worry me so much as it does the other editors, because it's swiftly followed by the man loping across the grass to where Samantha is sitting.

And this is where it all troubles me.  Because you're making his approach deliberate.  He homes in on her, invading her space, and takes the initiative with the introduction, and so already you've flagged a bit of menace there, thereby dissipating the tension.  You want to leave room for ambiguity, so her interpretation of events is down to her neurosis/history, rather than his actions.  Samantha needs to feel "Is it me going mad?  Did I imagine this?  Would anyone else find it odd?"  Not that you have to show that, but it should, I feel, inform your character's reactions.

I'd suggest you make it much more casual on his part, so that the fear on her part is more natural in view of this buried memory of the other man and his behaviour wouldn't seem odd to anyone other than Samantha.  I'd make his approach perfectly normal for a stranger, the casual saunter over to the only bench near the roundabout, the look of neighbourly recognition--"Oh, hi, aren't you my neighbour?  I'm Daniel. Number six"; the handshake that's held a fraction too long, the chat about the family, the hand that's just a little too near for comfort, touching her dress...  All these things could be laughed off as perfectly normal by someone without "the other man" buried in her past, but because of this buried memory (which is bubbling to the surface) it all has great, and more sinister, significance.  

And then comes that wink.  That's a great wink.

"But he is dark haired and dark eyed and that other man was blond with eyes the colour of the summer sky.  I say ‘no, never,’ and he leans back on the bench and sighs. Then he looks at me out of the corner of his eyes and gives a flicker of a wink."  Best three lines in the piece.

With a little more work along the lines suggested, you could have an intriguing start.

Excellent review, D'Estaing. Honesty is hard to come by when only people you know do a reading. I originally had a Prologue that led up to to Chapter One. It explained why the town was what it was when my protagonist drove into it. It was suggested that I drop it. Now, I think it might be wise to try and resurrect it. In addition, I plan to take into account many of your points. 

Thanks for this Richard, and welcome.  It's a long haul but all these comments are much appreciated.  Poppy.

In case any of you have a moment here's a revised 600, which may go some way to addressing some of the points, and which shows that I am taking account of what you all say:

'The playground gate clangs shut.  

I turn my head and see a man, in tight jeans and white shirt, taking long, loping steps over the grass towards the bench where I am sitting. Three little boys run, whooping, over to the roundabout where Ellie and Nicola sit, gently rotating, making daisy chains.  When the man is right in front of me he pauses for a moment, grins, and then places himself beside me, so close I have to shift along. He gives a long sigh and then stretches - first his arms above his head, then his legs out in front of him - and shakes back his curly brown hair. I move again. Just a few inches. I don’t want to be rude even if he is. 

He straightens and then turns towards me saying,  ‘Hi, I’m Daniel,’ in a voice that is husky and strangely intimate.  He stretches out his hand and for a moment I hesitate, but then I slip mine into his. He has a firm grip.  ‘We’ve just moved into number six on the Green. Me, Tish and the boys.’ He nods over at his children without taking his eyes off me, but I look and see my two girls standing stock still by the roundabout as the boys spin it round as fast as it will go.

‘Oh, right, I’m Samantha. I live at number four,’ I mumble. He lets go of my hand and there seems to be a pause. ‘Next door.’ I add, unnecessarily.  There is a shrill cry from the children and over Daniel’s shoulder, I see my girls racing to the swings. I clear my throat and sit up straighter but he stays relaxed, crossing his long legs and shaking his hair back again.

‘Samantha,’ he says, rolling my name around in his mouth,  ‘okay.’  Out of the corner of my eye I see him smile to himself, before continuing, ‘yeah, anyway, I saw you come over here so I thought I’d bring the boys and let my wife get on with unpacking.’ 

‘I suppose it’s easier without the kids getting into everything.’ I agree.

 ‘Tell me about it!  And who’d have thought the junk that a family can have? Last time I moved I only had two suitcases.’

‘Your poor wife, she must be up to her ears.’ I say.

He laughs and then places his left hand, adorned by a thick gold ring on the fourth finger, in the narrow space between us, touching the spread out yellow cotton of my dress. He leans round towards me, and stares into my eyes. He says, ‘but, Samantha, tell me - haven't we met before?’

I open my mouth to deny it but then something about him lights a spark in my brain. There is something familiar about him. His nose, the shape of his face?  But he is dark haired and dark eyed and that other man was blond with eyes the colour of the summer sky.  I say ‘no, never,’ and he leans back on the bench and sighs. Then he looks at me out of the corner of his eyes and gives a flicker of a wink.

I get up and call the girls.

Well, at the moment, I'm the only FA here, so I thought it would be okay to share the thread to introduce myself while I had a look around.  But I can see, from the attention D'Estaing's already garnered, that there is a demand for both, so perhaps when I've figured out how it all works...

Hi Richard,

It's wonderful to have you here.  And we've had a fair number of customers too.

EDIT.  I think we should see how the Faux Editors thread develops, and how that would look in terms of appetite for Faux Agents - who can and should take a blunter: "If I were an agent I'd stop reading.......now" - which was a nerve-wracking experience at best, and at worst...well, enough said.  Still, as a thread it was one of the most popular, valuable, argumentative, and funny on Authonomy.

TSWS

--edited by T.S.W. Sharman on 8/31/2015, 6:27 PM--

Hi purpleprose.

This is in no way a rebuke, but just a gentle reminder of what I said in the OP (Opening Post). It's really hard, having had some criticism of your opening, not to come straight back with a revised opening that you think is what the Faux Editors want to read.

 You should really take some time to internalise the comments that were made here (very different, after all), inwardly digest them, reject those that you think didn't suit your view of your book, reflect on those that seem to strike a chord with you, and after a while, on reflection, make any changes that you think best suit your story.

It takes time to do this. It's not something that you should do on a kneejerk reaction.

Now, I'm not saying that you haven't thoroughly considered what you've re-submitted. Generally, however, we found that on Authonomy (how weird to be talking about that site in the past tense), a period of reflection of not less than a month gave a perspective on suggested changes which hugely benefited authors in the long run. Accordingly, please come back to us in a month and we'll be happy to have another look at your revised opening. If there's a specific reason why you need feedback in the very short term (imminent meeting with an agent, for example) we'll do our best to help out, but this should really be regarded as the rare exception.

But a big thanks for your enthusiasm, and the huge vote of confidence you give in us to have had some positive effect on your writing.

Thanks for your detailed comments.  You're absolutely right (as was TSW Sharman above) - I fell in love with my opening line and despite reading this chapter in some roundtables, nobody had ever pointed out the POV problem with it.  If the reader hears the entire line clearly, then Anna, POV character does, and if so, why doesn't she react?  Yep, it's got to be changed.  TSW suggests (as do you) making it slightly shorter, thus leaving out the important phrase (not having sex)which of course loses the "punch" but solves the problem of the clueless Anna.  Guess as long as I get the whole statement out "do you want to know why we're not having sex" (or your version, slightly different but same feel) on the first page, it'll work.  Back to mulling.

But a big Thank you for all the time you and TSW spent going over my first effort.  One of the truly surprising but positive things I've learned about the writing community is how helpful people are. Just wanted to let both of you know it's appreciated.

--edited by Kawasaki on 9/2/2015, 8:12 AM--

Overall, I thought it was a tiny bit overwritten and 'mannered' in style, with too much information dumped in a critical section of the book, so that the muscle of the opener---that Tim has an interview (a "fiery grilling") lined up with a hotshot businessman, he's nervous, and he's bothered about the legality of the businessman's activities---is in danger of being smothered by all the adipose tissue of the origins of Rash's nickname, his background, the gaggles of girls shrieking, etc.

I'd suggest that if Tim is as apprehensive about this interview as you want me to believe he is, he'd be all but oblivious to all the female distraction, and that his anxiety would increase exponentially the longer Rash keeps him waiting.

There's this to be considered, too:  You want your reader to be there, right inside Tim, getting nervous.  So when you start giving us material that Tim certainly won't be thinking of at the time---Rash's family name, French films, etc.---you disconnect the reader from Tim and intrude onto the page as the author.

If you're writing in First, keep it tight.  Be Tim.  Think only the thoughts he'd be thinking at the time.  Where the hell is Rash?  He's late. Doesn't he know how important this is?  I wonder what he meant by--- etc.  Do you see?

The most interesting part of the submission is the last two paragraphs.  They hint of trouble lying ahead for Tim.  They're the paragraphs that would interest an agent.  Don't run the risk of his not reading that far.

I've deleted my post in order to do a major rewrite. Please put your comments on hold.

Thanks.

 Hi Charles,

Thanks for submitting to the Faux Editors.  Normal caveat, please bear in mind that these are just the opinions of one reader, take what you think might work, throw away the rest.  Also, I haven’t read any reviews of your work, so I’m coming to this unbiased.

I like the way you introduce the creepy, unusual town of Danielsford – the buildings with the few, small windows.  However, I think I’d want a little more scary foreshadowing than I’m getting here in order to want to read on.

That’s the main note I have about this, that there’s too much time spent on the rather mundane – Frank’s trip home on a road he knows well, perhaps get that over with quickly, and then the repeated descriptions of Vermont and New England that aren’t driving the drama.

Some examples…

“Seeing the little town when I topped the hill on the twisting, two-lane road gave me a sense of relief” – too much description for a small payoff – and why is he feeling relief, more than the end of a long journey?  I feel relief at the end of a long journey, but it doesn’t do anything for the dramatic stakes except lower them.  Why give him this relief anyway, why not give him more anxiety and frustration?

“That isn't unusual in Vermont where time even today seems to have halted in some of the smaller villages” – feels too much like a guided tour.

“They looked old but I could tell that they were of fairly new construction” – is this necessary at this point?

And what is most missing here – because of the overgrowth of unnecessary words and description is the essential drama of this, and any emotion.  Where’s the anger and confusion and anger at being lost, the strangeness and foreboding of Daniesford.

Watch out for tense errors…

The highway I traveled is [was] a straight shot from west to east through the state. I took [I’d taken] no turns, nor did [had] I encounter…I think is correct.

My go-to suggestion in instances where I feel the main character is lacking in emotion or voice is to ask the author to re-write in first person present – just as an exercise.  In this case it will keep you from being writerly, and get you into Frank’s head.  Check out Richard’s review of Surfeit of Deceit where he makes the point about getting into the main character’s head, and getting the author off the page – this seems another instance.

Best of luck with this,

TSWS
Bad Napkin

As I said to you privately, but I'll post it here as well:

That's a shame (you deleted your post). The thread on Authonomy became a compendium of submissions and responses from the editors that was fascinating, and illuminating, for others to read through. This thread is not just about the finished product. It's also about the (in this case shared) journey in getting there.

I think many of us are of that opinion. There are quite a few tweaks that have been requested of the site administrators, and we're still waiting for a response from BC about whether any or all of them can be implemented and if so in what timeframe. I think the response will largely determine whether a large majority of the ex-Autho crew settle here. They're mostly things that make the forums a little more personal, avatars, being able to drop into the person's profile page direct from the threads, and so on.

This thread has had well over two thousand views in the two weeks it has been running, so there is traffic on the site. Depends whether Penguin really want it or not.

Hi all,

FACING THE ODDS, ONE MAN AT A TIME

A middle-aged Alaskan woman braves the wildest life on the Last Frontier.

Disclaimer: This is a work of “fiction.”  Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental.  But if by chance you’re a man I dated within the past decade or so, especially if you’re one I ended badly with, please read no further. Don’t torture yourself wondering Is she talking about me?  You’re probably right; I am.  But this isn’t your story, it’s mine. Mine, and every other female who has found herself pursuing the fairy- tale concept of finding her prince, that one person that will make her life complete. And since this is fiction you don’t need to worry; no one will know but me and you.  So buckle up, keep your mouth shut, and read on.

 Or don’t.

Chapter 1

I grab the phone on the fourth ring, praying against hope that it’s my friend Fiona, calling to arrange the pedicures she bought me for my recent birthday.

It isn’t.

It is my sister Elaine. My five years-older-but-thinks-she’s-one-hundred-years-wiser-than me sister calling me in Alaska from her home in New Mexico.

“Tilly?”

My grimace is automatic. Elaine knows how I despised this nickname in my childhood. My name is Tilka, not Tilly.  I love my name. It’s one of the few things my mom ever got right if you ask me. Tilly sounds like such a cheap knock-off. It sounds like the name of a Walt Disney character, a horse in a children’s film.  I objected to the name Tilly as a child.  So does my sister really think I like it better, now that I’m grown? Hardly.

“It’s me,” she continues. “Sorry I missed your birthday last week.”

“Not a problem,” I tell her, “I mean yes, it was my fortieth, and those big birthdays don’t come around all the time, and I’m your only sister with an August birthday, mind you,  but it’s no biggie.”

Elaine ignores my jab and cuts to the chase. “Are you ready to meet someone yet, because I think I’ve got a lead.”

I have to laugh.  After fifteen years as a single mother of two girls, I am plenty used to getting “help” meeting a man.  But of my four sisters, Elaine is the least qualified to provide said help. Elaine married as a teenager to a welder fifteen years her senior who looked like Ronald McDonald. When that union folded, she traded him in for a man she told the family about only after she’d married him. “You’ll love him,” she assured each of us individually. “He lies a lot, so you don’t want to believe everything he says, but he’s good to me.”

This is what I think about while she’s talking. This, and our tenuous history together. Elaine is the sister who intervened when I was in the eighth grade and my mom left Alaska, trailing her fourth husband as he fled his own child support obligations. My other sisters were already grown and on their own. Still in her late teens, Elaine’s loyalty to me was compromised by her natural need to rebel and have fun. It meant that I would be left in various sketchy situations in studio apartments with her and her rough-around-the-edges lovers. It meant that we would spend money she earned waitressing on fun nights at the bowling alley instead of buying groceries. At the time, I had simply wished for a nice foster home. Once that time had passed, I remained forever wary of Elaine's help. Wary yet weighted by indebtedness.

The Unstoppable Reality of Daybreak, by Allison Kade

Hi there. You don't appear to have downloaded any of your book to the site. You've reviewed someone else's work, so it's your prerogative to download as much or as little as you please. Perhaps you've been having the same problems that quite a few ex-Authonomy members have been having, in which case I can only suggest you bring it to the attention of the site admin, Lucy Silag, who has said before that she's happy to assist.

Pitch: There's something rather fait accompli about the pitch. Sahara has had enough of her family, so she moves to Haiti. I think we've all been at that point at some time in our lives. For most of us it's the day after the day after Christmas Day, when you're getting sick of Granny and her gin habit, there are no good movies left on TV and the kids' presents are already broken or run out of batteries. You're thinking, next year, we'll just have Christmas on our own and we'll go to the Sales instead, or perhaps we'll do something really radical and we'll Go Away. Maybe most of us wouldn't choose Haiti as a destination, but you get my drift. There's not much story here yet. Then she falls into the arms of her ex, who she had split up with, but now can help her trust again. So where's the tension in that? Your pitch could be rewritten: Sahara tells her family to stuff it and fucks off to Haiti. By strange coincidence (I think NOT, Sahara, you little minx) she bumps into her ex. He's now a slightly dishevelled, rather gorgeous, chain-smoking, world-weary ex-pat hanging around the titty bars in Port au Prince. She has wild break-up-but-potentially-getting-back-together sex with him and ponders whether he might not have been as bad as she thought he was. Okay. My version is too long. Yours is more concise. I bet more people would rather read my book though.

I jest.

What your pitch is missing is WHY she's had enough of her family, WHAT compelled her to sleep with her ex, and WHAT ongoing trauma it is that he can help her with (I presume it is a "he"). All you've done is list her reactions and none of her motivations, which is not really what a pitch is for. What's her PROBLEM? You've told us how she runs away from it, and then sleeps with her ex to avoid it, but you haven't told us what IT actually is.

Text:

Do you really have to call her Sahara? I keep reading it as Sarah, and then doing a double take, and I'm getting a headache.

I like the "eerily short" plane journey.

It's not really the contrast between South Florida air and Haitian, is it? It's between the air-conditioned cold of the plane and the heat coming from the steaming tarmac. If you tweaked this correctly it could nail this scene, the open door, the steps down, the blast of unaccustomed heat in your face. We've all been there (well, apart from Sahara, it appears).

I don't think you need the fourth sentence. I don't see what it adds.

I've never been to Haiti, but is there no passport control or customs? Her driver meets her at the luggage carousel and they then walk straight out of the airport. A second career as a Haitian drug mule beckons…

Ah? So her father is a problem. Interesting.

The "young man carried a boom box on his shoulder", implying movement, but then you say "several people came up to him and started dancing". Was he static, "he had a boom box on his shoulder" and the people came up to him, or was he moving "he carried a boom box on his shoulder" and people followed him, dancing?

"waited for the streetlight" - or waited "at" the streetlight? I think you wait "at a streetlight", or "for a streetlight to change", but not "for a streetlight". That kind of implies that there was no streetlight there yet, but in a few days the council would be along to install one.

I'm not sure why the driver would volunteer the phrase "tap-tap" to explain what the vividly painted truck was called? Was Sahara looking at the truck with a querulous expression while thumbing through her Creole-English dictionary? You haven't given a reason for him to volunteer this information, apart from the fact that it's in front of them.

What was "strange" about the tune the driver whistled? Was it "strange", or just "unfamiliar"? After the awkward reference to the tune he was whistling, you don't need "he changed the subject after an awkward minute".

In spite of my cavils heretofore, I think this is quite a good piece. It's pacy, doesn't get bogged down in exposition or description and describes the arrival of a passenger in Haiti fairly clearly and without fuss, while hinting at other hidden traumas that are propelling the MC onward like the legs of a swan paddling furiously beneath the surface.

I think the pitch is awful, and this makes me worry about the central character arc and structure of the book, but having read what you've put up, I'd be intrigued enough to at least read a bit further and hope to be pleasantly surprised. Not knowing anything about you (which would not be the case if I was your editor) I think either you've been to Haiti, or have a damn fine researcher. If I had one general criticism, it would be that you must be wary of dropping in locational detail that isn't really justified by the narrative. If you do (like the "tap-tap" item) it comes across as a bit "guidebook".

Thanks for posting, and sort your book download out, so that we can see a bit more of it.

--edited by D'Estaing on 9/8/2015, 7:31 PM--

Hi D'Estaing,

Thanks so much for the thorough and thoughtful feedback. I really appreciate it. I'll also confess that I'm definitely not imminently sending the pitch to any agents and haven't spent much time on it yet by any means (apologies if that's obnoxious, using up your time on my first attempt at a coherent one-sentence summary, rather than a refined query). Your reading of it is actually very insightful as it helps me see how the plot comes off from a quick summary, because that's actually really *not* where it ends up going. 

I first learned about Authonomy from the freelance editor I worked with earlier this year, but I didn't go to check Authonomy out until a week or two ago . . . when I simultaneously learned of its demise. I made an account here and am still trying to feel everything out. At the moment, navigating around feels like running in peanut butter, but I haven't yet invested a ton of time toward learning the ropes. The community doesn't seem quite as vibrant as I'd hoped--with the notable exception of you, and this thread--and the UI could use some SERIOUS rejiggering, so I'm still getting my sea legs. (i.e. I got two connection requests and there is no obvious place to go to accept them upon signing in, except searching for the user from scratch. This site has a major learning curve and could use a major web 2.0 makeover.) 

Anyway, I'll try to upload the first two chapters now and see how it goes. I'll drop a note here once I do, if that's okay? I'd love it if you'd be down to continue reading, as you noted. And anyone else who wants to chime in, please do!

-Allison

Allison Kade wrote:

Facing the odds, one man at a time, by LAMeredith

Unless there's a family of second cousins all called the Odds; Jimmy Odd, Bill Odd, Finbar Odd and Micky, who's just plain Odd, this is a pretty awful title.

Pitch: Is the "disclaimer" your pitch? If it is, it's way over allowable word length for this thread, but actually pretty funny, and if you could distil it to its bitter essence I think it would make an excellent pitch, far better than "a middle-aged Alaskan woman braves the wildest life on the Last Frontier" which sounds ineffably dull.

Text:

"It is my sister Elaine" - "It's my sister" would be less formal

"Not a problem," I tell her - should then be full stop, not comma.

"Are you ready to meet someone yet, because I think I've got a lead." - probably best to split this into two, have the first clause as a question with a question mark after "yet", and new sentence beginning "Because…"

Is that it? You've only put up 460 odd words, you had another 150 to go. Big fail for not reading the instructions. Big positive for being the fewest ever proofreading comments I've had to make on one of these submissions - three comments, and one of those is a marginal. That's setting the bar pretty high.

What I like:

Effortless dialogue.

Present tense - such a nice change from "I grabbed the phone".

A bit of exposition, now I look back, but it was so smoothly done that I didn't notice you stuffing it down my face at the time. That last paragraph is a big one mind. After the first hundred words you should probably be looking for a break. I'd progress the conversation a little further before you drop in the detail about life post-Alaska.

In summary: Agent ready? Probably, yes, if you can keep the same high standard of presentation going and there is a decent plot behind this. Just fix the typos and you're away. Not my genre really, but I have little complaint with the writing.

D'Estaing - "Evenrood"

PS. In hindsight, the mixed metaphor of "Elaine ignores my jab and cuts to the chase" clashes a bit.

--edited by D'Estaing on 9/12/2015, 12:14 PM--

Hi Allison,

Thanks for submitting to the Faux Editors.  Normal caveat, please bear in mind that these are just the opinions of one reader, take what you think might work, throw away the rest.  Also, I haven’t read any reviews of your work, so I’m coming to this unbiased.

The reason I asked about whether the book was posted was I wanted to read on and see where things might possibly take off.  Right now the 600 feels a little slow and background-oriented. 

What I liked was the flourish of “as though she’d been given the magical power to bridge two universes in under two hours” which is nice, but then it moved away from her experience.  I think the title is also quite appealing (if in a somewhat over-literary manner.)

What I think you could work on are:

1) ‘Sahara Benjamin arrived late in the afternoon.’  This is not the most exciting opening sentence, and doesn’t convey her experience as well as you do in the next sentence.  Plus, I’m not sure I really care what time she arrived.

2) ‘South Floridian air spilled out from the cabin.’ This was a bit of an early low point.  The air in the cabin wouldn’t be South Floridian after about 10 minutes of flight.

3) ‘the crew lowered staircases and the passengers climbed down’ – the ground crew?  Not staircases, steps, I think.  This all just sounded wrong.  And, again, not very interesting. ‘On behalf of the Miami-based flight crew, the staff thanked them for choosing American Airlines in perfect, unaccented English.’ Again, I don’t really care, it doesn’t do much to set the stage, and the construction is awkward.  I think it should be: “The flight attendant made her final announcement, thanking them for flying American Airlines on the tiny plane with its Miami-based crew, before opening the door to the steaming heat of Haiti International Airport.’  Anyway, still not interesting.

4) ‘The Lehrmann Institute had sent a driver for her, and he waited near the arrival gate of the packed airport, holding a sign with Sahara’s name. He said something that got lost in the din of the airport. “Mesi,” she thanked him as he led her toward baggage claim, speaking her first words of Creole to an actual Haitian.’  In some ways there isn’t anything wrong with this.  But, it under-delivers for so early on.  ‘She moved through the airport slowly, studying the people. So different in their clothes, their voices.  A stranger in a strange land, she thought. A young man in a dirty yellow shirt tried to get her attention, beckoning toward the exit.  He was too close to her face, smiling too much, she could smell spices on his breath. “Taxi, taxi, taxi.”  She brushed past him, leaning away. “No besion taxi,” she said, self-consciously realizing those was her first words of Creole to an actual Haitian.’  Sorry, not much better. But why not pick a more exotic word than Mesi/Merci?

I won’t go on, but I don’t find the driver very interesting, I think the description of the results of the earthquake are thin (you use rubble twice), there’s an odd digression into the duffel bag, a somewhat obvious attempt to introduce her father, the tap-tap seems a nice touch but didn’t need to stimulate dialogue.  I also had problems with: ‘Reggae music played from the boom box that one young man carried on his shoulder. Several people came up to him and started dancing.’  Really? -- if you really saw this in reality, then great, but it feels staged and inauthentic to me.

So I guess I’m asking for her emotional reaction – continuing from the really nice ‘magical power to bridge two universes’ but instead I get something between a poor travelogue and multiple background digressions.  My cure-all for these situations is to rewrite in first person present and let us experience Sahara’s surprise, delight, anxiety in arriving in this new universe.

Sorry I can’t be more positive, but I hope some of these notes might be of help.

TSWS

Bad Napkin

 Hi Lamededith,

Thanks for submitting to the Faux Editors.  Normal caveat, please bear in mind that these are just the opinions of one reader, take what you think might work, throw away the rest.  Also, I haven’t read any reviews of your work, so I’m coming to this unbiased.

I like the title, in a somewhat weird way – conflating the odds (of difficulties) with men – even though prima facie it doesn’t make much sense.  I also like the disclaimer, it has energy and voice, and is kinda funny.  It continues in the same acid-funny spirit that’s very enjoyable:

“Elaine is the least qualified to provide said help. Elaine married as a teenager to a welder fifteen years her senior who looked like Ronald McDonald. When that union folded, she traded him in for a man she told the family about only after she’d married him. “You’ll love him,” she assured each of us individually. “He lies a lot, so you don’t want to believe everything he says, but he’s good to me.”

This is great, I really really like this. But then we reach ‘our tenuous history together’ which is where you dole out more background than I feel I’m ready for.  I’m much keener to hear about the proposed lead from the sister. 

I also think the dialogue could maybe be a little more peppy.  For instance “It’s me,” she continues. “Sorry I missed your birthday last week.” – this could be a little more fun, right?  You give some of this to Tilka, but that’s actually a little underplayed for me: “I mean yes, it was my fortieth, and those big birthdays don’t come around all the time, and I’m your only sister with an August birthday, mind you, but it’s no biggie.”  I think you could layer this on a little thicker, with more authentic pacing.  “Oh that?  No big deal.  It was only – what was it again, I can’t remember? – yeah my fortieth.  I mean those come around all the time, don’t they, those ones in units of ten, and I’m your only sister with an August birthday. Anyway, you know, presents, big party, same old same old.” Plus the sister brushes it off, which is a bit of a missed opportunity: “You had a party? A big party?” “Er…”

Last material point, the line ‘calling to arrange the pedicures she bought me for my recent birthday’ is so chick-lit it made me cringe, could you do something more interesting with it?  You seem to be keen to bash accepted norms and clichés so just keep right at it.

Small stuff:  There are a lot of it’s at the beginning, and one non-contraction of ‘it is.’  Maybe mix it up a bit.  Also, ‘…I think I’ve got a lead’ should end in a question mark, maybe, although as is it comes across in some ways as rhetorical, which is quite clever, but you might want to make it clearer that it’s rhetorical.  Actually, should rhetorical questions end with a question mark?  I suspect so…

Best of luck with this, it’s really promising.

TSWS

Title: Dark Side of the Rising Sun by John Boyd

Genre: Suspense Thriller

Pitch: Tim is tricked into teaching English to a crook working with the yakuza. The travails that follow include sexual blackmail, torture and worse. Much worse.

Link to first 5 chapters: http://www.bookcountry.com/PeerReview/BookReview.aspx?BookId=8386

 CHAPTER 1

My story begins on the day Rash was late. Damn late, as I recall. Waiting for him in Shibuya, with its riot of neon advertising, forest of giant video screens and floods of people, I easily became distracted: the girls parading by in their spring ‘skimpery,’ the never-ending catwalk of fashions, the greetings and cajolings of the crowds standing around waiting for latecomers. Before I knew it, time had turned thief and sneaked past me like a pickpocket unseen.

Edgy and peed off, I yanked my phone out to ding him when he emerged from the masses pouring across the Shibuya Scramble, ponytail swinging.

He reached the sidewalk and shimmied past the groups and singles thronging the area, looking for me. I threw him a wave, wishing it were a rock, and he came striding over.

“Tim-san! So sorry! You won’t believe what held me up.”

I was in no mood for one of his tangled tales and didn’t think much of his mile-wide grin, either. But he was doing me a favor, so I bit back the sarcasm and told him to forget it. Time was pressing.

You see, he’d arranged an interview for me with Ryuu Kaifu—some hotshot businessman eager to study English. Kaifu wanted a teacher who could come running at short notice whenever an empty slot appeared in his otherwise crammed schedule. According to Rash, he’d pay yen galore for the convenience. 

Being out of work, I was anxious to arrive on time. Rash, though, was in no hurry. He took a step back to eye me up and down. “I see you’re turned out to make a good impression.” He grinned broadly, finding my buttoned-down appearance amusing when he’d come casually dressed. But then he wasn’t the one in for a fiery grilling; he was merely serving me up—in more than one way, now I come to think of it.

 “Nervous?” he asked, studying my face.

 A little, I admitted. Beyond the usual tensions an interview stirs up, there was reason to be. Yet even as I broached the subject with him, I didn’t want to deal with it; finding work was my concern. “Something you said on the phone has been bothering me. About how Kaifu can sometimes operate on the edge. You never really explained what that meant.”

He looked away before answering and then fixed his eyes back on mine—a technique, I realized later, he used to convince people of his sincerity. “You could say he’s something of a cross between a corporate raider in America and an activist shareholder. Made enemies and got some bad press along the way—not always fairly, as far as I’m concerned.  Anyhow,” he glowered at me, another of his techniques, “if you have doubts, ask him yourself. You won’t be stealing rice from my bowl by saying no.”

The question had ticked him off, which ought to have popped my antenna, but … well, the answer was what I wanted to hear. “That’s alright, then,” I said. “Especially for ten thousand yen an hour.”

“What? Hey, you didn’t get that figure from me. Right? It’s something you have to negotiate for with him. Right?”

Remembering how he’d described Kaifu as a super tough hombre of a negotiator, I said nothing.

“Ah. ”

I could see the bugger had read my mind, something he was good at. I’m not the greatest bargainer in the world, and he’d sensed my doubt about the outcome.

“My dear Tim-san, you must understand.” He was back to being amused again.  “If you’re not prepared to compete for the fattest fish, don’t complain when you end up with the sardine.”

--edited by Kawasaki on 9/11/2015, 4:00 AM--