You Sent Me Your First 5 Pages Heres What I Honestly Think

If your opening pages don't grab us immediately, readers will put your book down and literary agents will reject it and move on to the next in their pile. The first pages are that important. used to review queries at top literary agency, and today I'm putting myself back in the agent's chair, reviewing manuscripts submitted by you. Thank you in advance to all of the incredibly brave authors who shared their work. extended an invite to the premium subscribers to my newsletter, Chapter Breakak, to submit their first five pages for an honest critique. I'll throw the link to subscribe down below so you don't miss the next opportunity. Here's how this is going to go. I'll read through each manuscript one by one and tell you when would stop reading if was reviewing this manuscript as part of query or if would request to read more. If reject it, I'd explain why and what the author might do instead to keep me hooked. Of course, these are all just my subjective thoughts, but hope they give you clearer picture of the common mistakes that might be weakening your opening and how to revise them to make your story impossible to put down. Okay, let's dive into the first submission, which is thriller. thought about killing for long time, very long time. like those as opening lines. Those definitely hook me in and make me want to learn more about this character. At first, the thoughts of killing were something pushed out of my head. Ridiculous, absurd, ludicrous. But the thoughts kept returning. would see somebody who basked in the agilation from an admiring public. Somebody who felt they were entitled to the praise and admiration from awe inspired looks. feel like those two lines are bit repetitive. That could probably be streamlined, but knew better. knew that these people were frauds. Then the thoughts of killing would return. And over time, the thoughts became more frequent, more intense. It was worse at night, lying in bed, staring into the darkness, thinking about the self-entitled, undeserving takers. The worms would start crawling through my brain, and would think black thoughts. Over time, the light of day had less and less of an effect in clearing my head and driving the demons away. So, it's true that fantasized about it more and more often. dreamed of it and became consumed by the idea of killing, but it's one thing to imagine killing person. It's something else to imagine the details. So, by this point, I'm really craving being grounded in specific scene. Right now, we're just hearing the narrator ruminate about their thoughts of killing and who they might kill and why and what those thoughts feel like to them. All of which is interesting, but we have no idea where this character is or what they're physically doing in the moment. So, the monologue almost feels placeless. So maybe I'd keep reading little more to see if we get those grounding details. Movies may show gruesome wounds and lot of blood and even screams and moaning. But there are things you don't see in movie. The little things. You don't see fingernails breaking as dying person claws at the ground or the sound of gravel scraping as body shudders through dying tremors. You don't smell the sweat when victim realizes that they are about to die. The smell of piss or when bodily function is lost. the smell of fear. It's not all about the victim either. anticipated my own reactions. Sweating hands, pounding heart, racing breath, and weak knees. knew that would have to be committed. Really committed. Once started, knew would have to finish the job. We get lot of really strong sensory details here that draw us into the narrator's psyche and their gruesome thoughts about killing, but we are still not grounded in specific scene. So, honestly, would probably stop reading right about now for that reason. But for the sake of this exercise, I'd like to see if this author does get us to particular scene in the next couple of pages. So, let's keep reading. Killing person. obsessed about how would do it, how would find my victim and make my approach, what my victim would say, and how he would move. relished the thought of the victim's surprise, the sudden realization of what was happening, and then the instant when shock morphed into terror. imagined how the body would fall, and how would support the weight if it sagged to the ground, or how would step back if the victim lurched toward me. Absolutely every bit of what was going to happen became familiar. Yes, had thought about killing for very long time. Now, I'm ready, and tonight, will make it happen. will kill man. So, after all of this rumination, the author finally brings us into the present moment with this line about tonight. So, I'm really hoping that soon we're brought into specific scene. know every detail, every detail, except of course who the victim will be. But know it will be someone deserving, somebody arrogant and smug who has lived life of self-entitlement, oblivious to the lives and the needs of anybody else. There are so many. My victim will be so easy to find. And know where to look. It's seafare in Seattle. Okay, finally we are grounded in place. The celebration of Seattle's maritime history or some such chamber of commerce bowl. went to the waterfront and joined the crowds pushing and bumping past each other. Parades and fleet week and seafair pirates storming ashore had no interest for me. was there to watch. So, would suggest that this author revise the first page and half to bring us into the seafair setting first before diving into the narrator's ruminations on killing. This festival is such an interesting environment and think juxtaposing the narrator's extremely dark thoughts against this backdrop would be super intriguing. Ultimately, grounding the reader in place will enhance our engagement with the internal monologue. Perhaps certain observations about what's going on at the festival would trigger thoughts about killing in the narrator. Or maybe we even see them surveying the crowd and deciding which victim to pick. That would make for much more active and dynamic scene than this placeless internal monologue that we currently have for the first page and half or so. Now, let's take look at the second manuscript, which is literary fiction. In matter of days, prophecy will be delivered in the halls of this palace. Immediately this line is signaling to me an omniscient type narration. As is the custom with most prophecies, it will not bode well for its subjects. It will foretell the deaths of the king and heir of Argos, though it will mention nothing about the queen. Prophecies tend not to be concerned with the women whose lives they disrupt, and this prophecy ringing in the ears of this woman will set off calamitous chain of events. But tonight shall not be the night that father or son meets his end. In fact, on this night, the heir's life is only just beginning. Though it must be said that he is off to pideous start. He has emerged from the womb silently, and the women around the queen hold their breath. Only the new mother dares to speak. So, this first paragraph is definitely from bird's eyee perspective. It almost feels like we're looking down at the scene of the birth from above. I'll admit that I'm always bit wary of omnisient POV just because it is often not sustained consistently across the manuscript and veers into head hopping. So, let's see where this manuscript goes with POV. Is it dead? The words are thick in her throat. So, that line, the words are thick in her throat, seemingly brings us into her perspective in close third person. Let's keep reading. Her gown is drenched and heavy with sweat, clinging to her like it will drag her straight down through the bed. Theodora has never done this before, but she knows that babies are supposed to cry. She wills her heart not to sink. That's another line that is in Theodora's head, so brings us into her perspective. Her eyes dart from woman to woman, frozen around her with their wide eyes and tight lips, and she wonders what use there is for room full of servants if none of them will respond to her. One of them dabs absent-mindedly at the sweat on the queen's brow, and another clutches her hand like she means to break it. whispered prayer lifts itself up towards the heavens. It is moment of agony stretching well beyond its welcome. So this paragraph largely brings us close into Theodora's POV, but then those final two lines feel like they zoom out little bit closer to that omnisient POV. Is the whispered prayer coming from Theodora? We don't know. I'm starting to feel like the POV is bit inconsistent so far in this scene. At last, an answer comes. No, my queen. He's just fine. collective exhale. The old woman holding the child has shepherded thousand babies in her lifetime, gaining wrinkle on her face with each one. She delivered King Agathon and his father Fedrris before him. And now, guided by her spotting hands and milky eyes, which seem to gaze at nothing at all, she has pulled new prince into the world. This paragraph doesn't at all seem to be in Theodora's POV, so it feels like we've broken away from her. But it's also not fully in the old woman's POV either because we don't really get inside her mind. When the women around him erupt with squealing and laughter, the newborn finally answers with whale of his own. It is Theodora who is silent now, watching the women dance and hug one another as if the feet had been their own. Theodora will look back at this moment and recall smarting desire to scream. For now, she holds her tongue. When they place the babe in her arms, she forces smile. One of the women gushes about how pleased the king will be that the queen has given him son. We're focusing on Theodora again here, but we're still in that more omnisient POV because we are getting access to things that she doesn't yet know. As evidenced by the line, Theodora will look back at this moment and recall smarting desire to scream. For now, she holds her tongue. This is something she's not aware of in the present moment and is coming from the all- knowing narrator. But really wish that we were deeper in Theodora's POV here, especially as she holds the baby in her arms for the first time after worrying that the baby was still born. You get the line, she forces smile, but that's really an external observation. How does she feel from within? Thank the gods, Theodora quips. The women around her are too preoccupied with their own joy to hear the bitterness in her voice. Not that they would understand it. The queen would like nothing more than moment of peace, for she has spent the last months in anguish, feeling her once live 18-year-old body swell to bursting and imagining how she might weather the disappointment of bearing girl. As she waddled along in her great discomfort, she dreaded the thought, "How would she stand to do it all again?" The narration is now bringing us closer into Theodora's POV, because we even get her direct thought in the narration. How would she stand to do it all again? Now, boy sits in her arms, but no relief comes. Not while these women rejoice around her. Their glee is startling. She glances down at the wet, shriveled, wailing thing in her arms and wonders if her mother too felt so little when she looked upon Theodora for the first time. Bear son. The last words her mother had said to her. Not such fond farewell, no warm words, no wish for safe journey. Theodora had hardly heard her, disbelief still radiating through her head and tears nearly blinding her. She had fooled herself into thinking she would have more time before her father dealt her away to bear some stranger's heir. Now that job is done and the king's most trusted adviser waits just outside this room for news of the child. don't think would read past this paragraph and that's because of the POV inconsistencies that we were talking about. This scene felt the most alive and exciting and intimate whenever we were close in Theodora's mind in close third person. But the manuscript begins with that passage of omnisient POV and we really go in and out of Theodora's perspective throughout the scene. wish the author had reframed the entire scene to be from Theodora's perspective all the way through. think the emotions would come through so much stronger that way. Here's the next manuscript, which is romance. My phone buzzes on the table in front of me, my agent's name on the screen, and cringe. How fitting that we're reading manuscript that features writer and an agent when we're talking about agents reviewing queries and why they might pass. watch it shimmy, taunting me until it finally stops. moment later, notification for one new voicemail pops up and flip the phone face down on the table so don't have to look at it. I'll listen to the voicemail later. Or maybe not at all. know what it says. The same thing her last five messages and emails have said. How's the draft going, Lucy? When can we expect to see it? With sigh, squeeze the bridge of my nose, trying to find relief for the tension headache can feel brewing behind my eyes. really like that this manuscript immediately opens with moment of conflict. It makes us want to figure out why Lucy hasn't been writing. Next door, Mrs. Pelgro's TV turns on. The volume's so loud it shakes our enjoining wall. groan and collapse forward, my forehead resting on my crossed arms. It's 2:00 and Mrs. Pelgro's afternoon soap opera is on. You can set your watch by this woman's schedule. lift my head fraction of an inch, enough to see my laptop in front of me. blank word document is on the screen, the cursor blinking at me smuggly. shut up you," say, and reach an arm out to slam the laptop shut. So that gesture of Lucy saying, shut up you," aloud to herself, seemingly in her empty apartment and then shutting her laptop maybe feels tad caricaturike. But this is romance, so I'll look past it for now. This was decidedly garbage writing day. had grand plans to write at least 100 words. They didn't even have to be good words. just needed to get something on the page. started off the morning sitting at my desk, but then my desk was too messy and the mess was blocking my creative flow. So, moved to the couch. But then the couch was so comfy fell asleep. So, moved to my tiny dining table, the one shoved up against the wall share with Mrs. Pelro. Then, got hungry, which explains the snack wrappers and crumbfilled plate joining my laptop on the table. And now, the entire morning and most of the afternoon has gotten away from me. writers watching this, how many of you can relate to Lucy's struggle here? really like how the author takes us through the playbyplay of Lucy trying to write and failing, and feel the author has really captured her voice well. What I'm really waiting for at this point is to crack Lucy open bit more. Presumably, she's not just procrastinating writing because her couch is comfy and because she's hungry. There seems to be deeper reason, but we're not really uncovering that yet. The opening theme song to Mrs. Pelgro's soap ends and scoot my chair little closer to the wall. May as well stick around to see if we finally find out who the father of Patricia's baby is since clearly no writing is being done today. An hour later, I'm still sitting at my dining table. My feet propped up on another chair and bag of popcorn on my lap. The episode of course ended on cliffhanger and I'm beginning to think we'll never find out who Patricia's baby daddy is. The TV turns off and the silence is startling. Then comes the sound of Mrs. Pellegrino moving around her apartment. the thunk of her walking cane on the floor as she gathers herself and her Yorkie Miffy to go on their 3:00 walk. Told you you could set your watch by this woman's schedule. So, by this point, I'm starting to feel the pacing of the opening scene drag bit. really enjoy the voice and the humor embedded in it, but we're not peeling back the deeper layers of Lucy's character or understanding why she isn't writing. As result, the stakes are falling flat. Let's see if it starts to pick back up. Or maybe I've just been spending far too much time hanging around my apartment listening to Mrs. Pelgro. Sadly, her life is more exciting than mine these days. Right now, I'm wearing the same ratty sweats had on yesterday and slept in last night if we're being honest. And you could fry an egg in the grease in my hair. It's not good. That's such great and gross image. My phone starts buzzing again, and reflexively flinch. My shoulders relax when see my best friend Ellie's name on the screen this time. Hey, answer, brushing the popcorn crumbs off my chest as sit up straighter in my chair. What's up? Aren't you at work? Gh. Yes, Ellie replies. And Steven is working late tonight. Do you want to meet up for drink when get out of here? Yes. need to get out of this apartment. It's bingo night for Mrs. Pelgro, and cannot go another day with her having more active social life than do. Amazing. Meet you at Sullivan's. Sounds perfect. Text me when you're leaving work. Okay, this is good. I'm getting out of the house. Maybe this will help me get out of the funk I've been in for the past longer than care to admit. Now just need to get out of these sweats and somehow make myself look like functioning human. This is an opportunity for Lucy to tell us more about that funk. But she stopped short. We still have no idea what caused this funk. So we're struggling to connect with her emotionally. my god, say when get into the bathroom and take look at myself in the mirror. Things are worse than thought. My shoulder length blonde waves are tangled in greasy bun that's holding on to the top of my head for dear life. Half the strands have fallen out and hang limply around my face. mascara don't remember putting on is smeared under my eyes and my skin is about as far from glowy as it can get. In short, look the way I've been feeling. By now, we've gotten vivid picture of Lucy's unckempt appearance and her general aimlessness and her inability to write, but we're still not cracking open the why behind all of it. I'd like to blame this funk on my ex, Dave, but that would be giving him far too much credit. No, this is self-induced funk, and have no one but myself to blame. Well, maybe Dave is at least little to blame. Okay, so here she gets close to giving us an answer of why she's in the funk when she mentions Dave, but then she immediately peels back and says, "Well, it's not really about Dave, but it's kind of about Dave." I'm more interested in why she feels she has herself to blame for this funk. The next few paragraphs seem to get into backstory regarding her and Dave's relationship, but that's not really where wanted the scene to go, and it feels like the pacing is slowing down once again. So, I'd probably stop reading about here. would encourage this author to dive deeper into Lucy's mind and help the reader understand what she's been through that have gotten her to this writing block. Without that, we really struggle to connect with her and feel invested in seeing what happens to her next. also think there are few opportunities to tighten up this scene so the pace stays swift. Those are the three submissions we had time for today, but if you want me to turn this into series, drop me comment letting me know. And thank you so much again to all of the authors who shared their work. It is such vulnerable thing to do, and all of these stories have potential. If you're querying, know it can feel brutal for agents to make decision on your manuscript within matter of minutes. But hope these critiques helped you see what they're looking for in those opening pages so you can revise yours to be stronger. And before you send out your queries, make sure to watch this video where reveal the nine most common mistakes see in the first 10 pages so that you can catch them in your own manuscript. Thanks so much for watching and happy writing.