I’ve been emailing a friend of mine, an aspiring romance writer, and we were talking about how to create character and conflict from the very first lines of your book. To show her what I meant, I took the first page of two of my books and added notes to show how I tried to portray from line one what these characters were like, and what their problems were.
I thought it might be kind of interesting, and could maybe help other people, so I’m posting them below.
BUT…here’s the challenge. I challenge any other writers reading this blog to do the same thing with their first few paragraphs–post them on your blog (or, if you don’t have one, in the comment section of mine, below), and comment on how you create character and conflict right away.
If you do post, please tell me, and if possible, leave a link in my comments section so we can all have a look at each other’s!
Here are mine:
“Okay let me get this straight. Tequila, then salt, then—” Marianne stood, container of salt poised over the cocktail shaker.
“No!” Warren hurled himself across the bar and grabbed her hand. “No salt in the margarita! You put it on the rim of the glass!” This woman is doing something she’s never done before, and making mistakes. She’s probably never had a margarita, which makes her pretty naïve–about drinking anyway. So why’s she in a bar?
Marianne’s hand, jogged by Warren, shook a dollop of rock salt into the container. She looked down into the aluminium cylinder, and an expression of wild regret passed over her face. She is bothered by making mistakes, out of proportion to the mistake that she has made. A problem here. Then she shook her head a little, and smiled.
“I think salty tequila could be good.” She raised the container to her lips, took the tiniest of sips, and grimaced. “Yeah, it’s a taste sensation.” However, she’s trying to change her gut reactions, and have a sense of humour about them. A trait that a reader can, hopefully, identify with.
He’d been sitting here so long his rear end was starting to go numb. This guy is a man who puts his goals above his personal comfort.
Nick shifted his weight, stretched his legs in their lightweight outdoor trousers, he’s an outdoorsman settled his back more comfortably against the tastefully neutral-coloured wall, and then he was motionless again. And patient. And in control of his body. I’ve tried to make him heroic in the first two sentences.
There was a clock on the wall down the corridor from him, near the creaky elevators. It ticked in the emptiness, a constant artificial monotony that dragged on Nick’s nerves. It wasn’t the noise that bothered him. He was used to noise: the constant rush of the ocean and the whirr of leaves and the bickering of birds. Those were timeless sounds. But this tick was a precise measurement of time passing. He is bothered by this setting; he belongs elsewhere. Every second ticking by was another second he had to wait for the mysterious Ms Drake and the answers he’d waited far too long for already. Mystery. Conflict. There is a problem here–he wants answers about something and he’s willing to put himself outside his comfort zone to get them.
***
Now post yours!
So I’m officially the latest of the lot (until somebody else posts another comment behind mine) — my attempt is at:
http://jessicaraymond.blogspot.com/2006/11/julie-cohens-first-page-challenge.html
[...] Take the first page challenge! Click here [...]
Hey Julie
I had a go afterall. I’ve not done any commentary, but I think – in the first opening at least – the conflict is obvious. Well, I guess it makes things easier if your hero is a werewolf and your heroine is a werewolf hunter!
http://tillytilly.livejournal.com/311475.html
I did this a while back, but the post wouldn’t take comments, so I’ve reposted and put the link here, too. I’d welcome anyone’s thoughts!
http://anna-lucia.blogspot.com/2006/10/julies-first-page-challenge.html
Ta!
Hi all, Julie and I were chatting a while back about writing and I’ve decided to join you all in your chat – you all look so interesting and write brilliantly! I’m new to blogs and blogging though so be gentle with me if I get it wrong – it took me ages to work out how to post here! But it’s really nice to meet you all.
I thought I’d post the first bit of my wip, I’m aiming at writing mills & boon medicals because I was a nurse then a hospital social worker (I had to change careers ‘cos I’ve got a strange but true nerve condition where I am slowly looksing control of my hands and feet). I just love anything medical and working with people.
I just wondered though, I’ve heard more experienced writers say first pages are difficult and there are lots of things that can go wrong, but what? It seems to me the whole book can go wrong at any point, or is it just about first impressions?
Lynne.
‘The next time I fall in love – if there is a next time, I’ll choose my partner with my head and not my heart!’ Olivia Walsh pressed down double hard on the button of the franking machine in the reception of Surgery as she spoke as if to emphasise a point. ‘And I would never have offered the room in my house for the new doctor had I known who was going to be appointed.’
Thank you Nic and Michelle and Jess! All excellent excerpts with different techniques.
KJ have you finished thinking yet?
Let us know.
Tilly, I’ve commented on your post (I love the extracts) and asked you to do some analysis for us, which you will probably hate me for!
Anna, I’ve been dying to analyse your extracts for days now and I got in there and pointed out some techniques that I suspect you have done completely unconsciously. (Heh heh and I mentioned verbs and zeugma.
)
Both Tilly and Anna have posted suspenseful beginnings which are quite different to the more romance-focused openings that I and some other category authors have posted. The contrasts in content are interesting and really show the wide range of techniques that can be used.
Lynne…alas, the book can go wrong at any point. It’s just that the first page is so important as a selling tool and to get the reader in the right place, that it’s useful to look at it.
I like your first paragraph, which I think establishes character and her conflict and setting right away. This also shows Olivia as a strong character with definite opinions–both in what she says and in her actions of pressing down on the machine.
(Lynne is the person who first got me thinking about this challenge so thank you, Lynne!)
(Some writers who have also tried this challenge, but not commented here, are:
Liz Fenwick
Anne McAllister
Judy Jarvie
Anybody else…?)
I’m really enjoying running around looking at other people’s examples. And thanks, Julie, for your insight into mine. You’re right – I had no idea I was doing/using a zeu-thingy!
With commentary
http://tillytilly.livejournal.com/312455.html?mode=reply
I’ve just had a chance to read all the beginnings, they’re brilliant and I can see how they show mood, atmosphere, character and all sorts at the same time as plotting. It must take quite a bit of skill to do all those together without overwhelming the reader. I’ve learnt loads and really enjoyed reading them all, I’m a blog convert now and will be reading them all!
I’ve been following this thread with interest, and have just about got the courage up to post… so here goes.
“You need therapy,” Helen said cuttingly. “Or some kind of psychological help.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just a bag of neuroses, aren’t I?” Elisande looked at her reflection in the shop window. “After all, if someone looks like I do, they obviously need a lot of psychiatric treatment to cope with it.”
The woman looking back at her from the glass scowled too. Only two inches short of six foot tall, with incredibly long, slender limbs and a head of thick, black, nearly waist length hair, most passers-by gave her more than a second glance.
Helen tossed her head and sniffed.
“That’s assuming you’re not already in therapy.”
“You’re saying I should be?”
“You’re selfish, ill-mannered, egotistical and arrogant,” her sister said scathingly. “You’re not a nice person to know anymore, Elisande. You need help.”
With that, she turned and walked off into the bustling Christmas crowd. A moment later, she was lost from view.
Elisande stared after her, shoving her hands into the pockets of her thick sable jacket.
‘Not a nice person to know…’ Helen’s words repeated themselves in her head, over and over. Not a nice person. After everything she’d done for her family over the last ten years. Elisande choked back a sob, feeling her throat close up.
The thronging mass of shoppers seemed somehow to recede into the distance around her, and she suddenly felt very alone. She walked slowly along Oxford Street, her eyes on the pavement in front of her. No one bumped into her.
She shed the sable jacket and dropped it around the shoulders of the first beggar she saw sat in a doorway.
“Don’t flog it to buy drugs,” she told the stunned, dirty woman who sat on a piece of cardboard with a paper cup by her crossed legs. “Keep warm.” And then she poured a handful of pound coins into the cup.
“Merry Christmas,” the beggar said, still staring at her in shock.
“Bah humbug,” muttered Elisande.
OK Julie. Here’s something to take your mind off your impending birth or to kickstart the process. I’m posting the first page of my several times rewritten first chapter. Well I reckon it’s about a page. (I was supposed to be at RNA Lunch today, but daughter’s got Impetigo and temperature so I couldn’t force her to go to school.)
Onzo Palatini clicked shut the door of his red Lamborghini Diablo and took his first view of the modest two-bedroomed Victorian semi he had bought ten months before. Small and modest, it had suited his needs perfectly, as had the area.
He took a broad sweep of the road, noting the eclectic jumble of house styles that crowded the street, from late Victorian up to the present day. The haphazard nature of its development had always been one of the things that he’d liked about this road when cycling through as a student, but that was not why he’d chosen to buy in this area. It had more to do with the fact that it was only a twenty-minute bike ride to North Oxford – far enough to feel independent, but close enough to get to without any trouble. Then there had been the strong community that his agent had heard about when researching a place to buy. Onzo had thought that would appeal to Ally after several years working on projects in rural Latin America. And it was a ten minute bike ride into the centre of Oxford across fields and University Parks.
What had sealed the deal was learning from the electoral register that Ally’s former school friend Christina lived next door. His eyes flickered briefly to the adjoining house where pots of sunny flowers clashed madly with a bright red front door. Amusement briefly showed in his dark, sombre eyes. They suited their occupant perfectly.
So he had bought the house, sight unseen, and then set about having it turned into the sort of place that would appeal to an idealistic environmentalist. You couldn’t see the solar panels from this side of the house, nor the insulation under the freshly rendered house, but it had been retrofitted throughout to make it as low energy as possible. And then it had been eco-painted throughout in her favourite sunny yellow.
As Onzo’s eyes wandered to the dark blue door, triple-glazed windows and freshly painted cream render, he shook his head a little at how much the whole thing had cost. But now that he was actually seeing it in person, he was pleased with the efforts that had been made baiting his Ally trap. It had been worth every penny.
Once the house was complete, he had sat back and waited for others to reel her in. And they had. Spectacularly. Ally had been living here for six months and still had no idea that he was her landlord.
Not that he was the only one keeping secrets.
At that unpalatable thought, he pushed himself away from the car, through the wrought-iron black gate and walked up to the navy blue front door.
As far as he knew, she still hadn’t told anyone. But then why would she after all this time? And she’d been avoiding him, which was also hardly surprising.
Until now, he’d let her.
But no more.
[...] And I finally plucked up the courage to take Julie Cohen ’s first page challenge. Not that anyone is listening now! [...]
Hello, i love http://www.julie-cohen.com! Let me in, please
Hi Y’all and Julie,
I see the most recent one was posted in May, so I hope this this blog thread is still open. Here is my first few paragraphs of something I was working on a while back. Any comments would be welcome. leo_ann81@hotmail.com
Rachel O’ Connor rested her glasses upon her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her head had been pounding like a bongo drum for what seemed like forever.
She’d been working on this merger since after lunch and a quick glance at her watch told her it was almost seven thirty. She felt almost guilty about saving the document. The merger needed more time and dedication than her migraine headache was able to give. As the computer shut down she tidied her desk.
She’s a work-a-holic who’s dedicated to getting the job done event to the detriment of her own health and personal life. She feels guilty at leaving the job half done. She’s also a neatness freak.
“You’re leaving early.” A fellow associate commented.
Rachel looked up and tried not to grimace. Wendy Johnson, who Rachel secretly thought of as Woo-Woo Wendy because of her penchant for all things mystical stood in the doorway expectantly. Wendy’s wild frizzy blonde hair stuck out from her head as if she’d been scared stupid and her chunky gemstone jewellery clanged and rattled as she stepped into the doorway. Rachel smoothed down at her own cream suit and thanked the Lord she had a personal shopper who kept her from making horrible wardrobe faux pas.
Rachel is a bit judgemental and reserved. She is in strict control of her working life where she knows what’s expected of her but is very unsure of herself and her personality. She lets a personal shopper choose her clothes rather than risk wearing something in appropriate. She’s afraid of what people will think of her.
“Yeah, I’ve put in way too many hours this week to work past eight on a Friday.”
Wendy chuckled. “Great minds think alike.”
Rachel packed her laptop into its case, shrugged into her coat and slung the laptop bag over her shoulder. She clicked her desk lamp off and grabbed her purse. Wendy was still standing in the doorway.
“Did you get my e-mail?” She asked.
“Is saw an e-mail from you but the it wasn’t categorised by my inbox as high priority, so I didn’t open it. Was it urgent?”
Again very focused on her job. Only work related things need to be addressed during working hours.
“Kind of.” She hedged as Rachel locked her office door.
“Alison’s baby shower is on Tuesday as it’s her last day. Kerry and I have taken up a collection and we were going to go shopping tomorrow morning but she called in sick today.”
They headed for the elevator.
“Since you’re the only other female associate on our team, I wondered if you’d like to come along.”
“I um…” Rachel fumbled for an excuse.
“That’s if you don’t have plans, I mean.”
Rachel is out of her depth when the conversation turns other women. She’s nervous of going shopping with someone she’s already made her mind up about in case she might like them but doesn’t want to lie about her commitments or hurt Wendy’s feelings.
Congratulations, Julie, on all the excitement going on with regard to your novels these days!!
I’m not surprised. You are a great writer!
Best regards, Judith in Canada
I’m getting tons of spam comments on this post, so I’m closing it for comments. If you’ve got something (not spam) to say, please visit my more recent posts at
http://www.julie-cohen.com/blog
Thanks!
Julie x