Why you don't get published.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
New Beginning 126
Madame Hands and the Matter of Will
Teresa Fetter first saw the young man outside her store late on a Wednesday afternoon. He followed the length of the windows one way and then the other, trudging along on stiff legs with a studied look of indifference. The third time, Teresa's head jerked up. A buzz of alert shot across the back of her neck.
He wanted something—what was it? She watched him. He was young—early twenties or so—and tall, with the lurching-forward posture typical of men with such proportions. He looked solid, lean. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead, as if moving them might indicate weakness.
He intended to come in the store; Teresa knew this with a certainty she didn't even question. What she couldn't figure was why. Her first-floor antique and second-hand business hardly sold the kind of merchandise a young man would covet. And he didn't fit the profile for her upstairs psychic services, even if she were accepting new clients. Which she wasn't.
You're not, Teresa, she told herself.
The brass bells on the door clanged, and the stranger stepped inside. "Hello?" he asked. His accent was French. "I'm interested in this chest, here, in the window."
"It's an antique." Teresa beamed, stretching out her hand and introducing herself.
He held her gaze; she couldn't have looked away if she'd wanted to. "I'm interested in something else as well," he said, winking.
Teresa couldn't help smiling. Frenchmen were irresistible.
"They call me Monsieur Foot, by the way. Shall I explain why?"
Teresa grinned. She was accepting new clients, after all. And this one was going upstairs.
Opening: pjw. Continuation: Sarah
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13 comments:
OMG - I *love* the continuation!
Ding, ding, ding...great continuation.
Another clunky original. "a buzz of alarm" and all that. Yawn. People need to relax on openings and not try to blow us away with odd similies and so forth. It always ends up like the pitcher who comes out of the bullpen in the middle of a game and can't throw a strike because he's too pumped up to control his pitches.
I like it, author. I'll bet many will want more car chases but I'm happy with what you've set up in the first 150 words and I'm definitely going to keep reading.
I'll bet many will want more car chases
That's always what people say, but no one wants car chases or explosions so much as they want SOMETHING happening. 3-4 paragraphs of wordy, overblown sentences with the main character pondering the new guy in town or just her general state of the universe aren't very interesting. Cut to the chase (little joke) by getting to the conversation between the woman and young man right off, though don't start with dialogue as 90% of people seem to do that.
Ooo lah lah...loved the continuation! ;-)
This actually sounded kind of interesting to me. There's movement (no car crashes, but that's okay) and there's querkiness (running an antiques/secondhand store plus a psychic business); two good things, the way I look at it.
I'd lose the "buzz of alarm" bit; sounded weird to me. You know how Spiderman has that "tingly" sensation? I'd go more along those lines.
And the title doesn't do it for me; although, if this is the beginning of an erotica-type novel...well, then I suppose I could understand why she calls herself by that name. ;-)
~JerseyGirl
Baseball analogies aside, the opening has me wanting to read more. -JTC
How about if you change it so that the guy outside turned out to be Fierce Weenie, the erotic superhero, in his civilian disguise?
Face-Lift 77
Guess the Plot
Fear Sweeney
3. Life was pretty good for the erotic superhero. Nice costume, pleasant work. If folks could just get his name right. "For the last time, people, it's 'Fierce Weenie'!"
4. A brutal eunuch bursts into a retirement center and tosses bocce balls at the residents, beaning many of them before being talked down by Nurse Palumbo.
A few thoughts:
the "head jerked up" line confused me a bit - wasn't her head up before, otherwise how could she see him the other times he went by?
second, why wouldn't a young man be interested in antiques? If he is too poor, then I would think the second-hand stuff would be helpful to him. If he is rich, then why not? That probably seems really minor, but maybe just including something along the lines of "much younger than her usual clientele" would make that sound more true to me.
good luck!
What's the genre on this? If it's romance, especially erotic romance, or paranormal romance, or even mystery, I'd be interested. Even without the continuation:)
It's a bit awkward in places, but Teresa seems interesting and the young man (Will, I presume?) has potential. I wasn't sure if her interest in and worry about him was psychic or just paranoid. Her comment about what a young man would like makes me suspect that she's quite a bit too old for her interest in him to be romantic.
Does this beginning not employ a bit of a faux tension start?
Any business owner is used to all sorts of window shoppers and customers and are not surprised when some show up who do not fit the average profile.
"Clunky" is right, and not just the title. The writing is jerky, ungainly, and not always sensical, e.g. "a buzz of alert," "with the lurching-forward posture typical of men with such proportions," "his eyes focused straight ahead, as if moving them might indicate weakness." Lots of words, little content.
Also, I find it unrelatable. I don't know if a "real" psychic (granting such a thing exists) would feel a buzz across the back of her neck and all that, but it sounded really contrived. Not to mention that it doesn't take a psychic to pay attention to a weird-looking dude walking back and forth along a store window, or to know he wants something. Obviously he wants something.
The whole thing is trying too hard, both for style and trying to make this psychic thing sound interesting.
A buzz of alert shot across the back of her neck.
Somebody taser'd her?
At any rate, that's where I would've stopped reading and put the book back on the shelf. The image was not only distracting, it was a decidedly odd use of "alert."
A better place to open might be here:
Teresa watched him.
He was young--early twenties or so--and tall, with the lurching-forward posture of men [who are continually ducking through doorways].
Or something like that.
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