Why the Book Better Start Somewhere Good (or at least with telling me why I'm here)
AKA Why Booklab: First pages exists.
Not long ago, I wrote my #AmReading peeps singing the happy praises of two fashion-fun novels: I’ll Eat When I’m Dead and The Fashion Orphans. (Are you not subscribed to #AmReading? WHY NOT? DON’T YOU LOVE ME?)
And then I popped into the list I mentioned:
and downloaded the sample chapters of two more: Sushi for Beginners, by Marian Keyes (2008) and Champagne at Seven by Toni Glickman (2022).
I didn’t hit buy on either, and here’s why: by the end of the sample chapters, I had no idea why I was there. I mean, they were fun and well written (and I knew EXACTLY what everyone was wearing, and I like that more than you might think). But nothing had happened to tell me what problem we were here to solve, or hint to me much about why the character needed to change and do something, anything different (except probably focus less on … what everyone is wearing).
This doesn’t WORK for books anymore, and what I did is exactly why. Lots of us are downloading an audio sample, or sample chapters, based on something besides the cover or the flap copy. Someone suggested it, or it was in our also buys, and and we think hell, I’ll check it out, that’s free. We know nothing.
What we check out had better make us want more.
Did authors of yore have more time for this? Mayyyyyybe—although I think that’s more because it was rare to grab a book in a way that didn’t tell you what was coming. If you’re holding a physical book you have clues, and lots of them. You KNOW that—probably in a matter of a couple of pages—this protagonist is going to meet her dream date, or witness a murder, or have her life swept out from under her.
Most thriller writers are masters at this, but I’d argue it matters in every book. You’re not putting down Katherine Center’s Things You Save in a Fire after the tough firefighter heroine publicly decks her misogynist boss, is fired/transferred to her hometown station and has to start over again with guys who’ve known her forever and do NOT want a “girl” in their station. And that’s in the first 3 pages. Tess Gerritson’s The Summer Guests starts with a long-ago prologue from the POV of a cop who ends up dead: risky, but so exciting it works (plus, maybe most of her readers are there for the series… hard to say.)
The lesson learned is that that first chapter—and that first page—HAS TO WORK. Hard. Every line better dance backwards in high heels to tell us who we’re here with, what’s coming (or at least what it’s going to feel like) and why we should stay.
This is always good advice, and it’s also a part of the original impetus for our Booklab: First Pages series. Supporters (hope that’s you) can send us the first page of their WIP, fiction, non-fiction or memoir, and if it’s chosen to be featured, we will read it aloud, discuss what’s working and what isn’t, and then ask the all-important question: would we turn the page? (AKA would we hit buy now?)
Want to give a Booklab a listen? These episodes went out to the entire podcast feed:
Better yet, subscribe so you can submit yours for consideration for a future Booklab—and hear our November episode, where we all turn the page on one book but not the other, even though both have similar challenges ahead—and we tell you exactly why. Want to submit now? Details below the paywall.
What is this? AWED (AmWriting(almost)EveryDay is me, KJ, chatting in real time about my real writing day and maybe yours too. It’s vaguely daily (like my writing career) it’s always me, it’s never pre-loaded and appearing just to shout at you and it’s my way of trying not to feel like I’m wandering alone in the wilderness. I hope it’s yours too. If you hate it, you can delete it! Or unsubscribe from just AWED (not the regular podcast posts) by clicking HERE and then unchecking it.