The current title is "Changing Lives", and it's a character-driven science fiction story set around 30 years from now.
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If you had asked Dane Clion how he was feeling, the day he turned sixteen, he would have flashed you a bright grin. “Never better,” he’d laugh heartily. Then, of course, you’d laugh right along with him. After all, this was Dane Clion, intellectual athlete, the boy who, by the age of fourteen, already had colleges offering him full-ride scholarships. Naturally Dane Clion was feeling fantastic; his life was perfect.
However, by the third telenet interview that day, Dane was grumbling inwardly about his “perfect” life. Not for the first time, he was considering breaking character. He pictured reactions if he said, “My home life? Oh, Dad whacked me again yesterday, thank God for bruise-curing patches, right?”
But of course Dane wouldn’t say that. Not if he wanted to stay at home. Because no matter how many times Dad hit him during his drunk spells, he was still all the family Dane had.
The effect you create with the chipper voice of your narrator smashing into the last line of the second paragraph is interesting, but may be pretty off-putting to most people. I'll hold comment on that.
I have to say, I'm not fond of otherwise brilliant codependents as main characters. A character who is defined by a neurotic behavior pattern is always a hard sell. Characters that genuinely struggle with involuntary difficulties are much more likely to catch my sympathy (always in limited supply as it is).
I have to say, you carry it off well, so even though I don't have a taste for how you've opened, I wouldn't toss it after just this page or anything like that. The flashy way you handle your POV almost set off alarms, but looks more like you're demonstrating skill than ignorantly skirting danger. Certainly you didn't crash and burn so far.
On balance, I'd be willing to hope that the story would go a bit further than the obvious. I'd also be hopeful that even if the plot/character elements were weak, the prose would be high quality.
My guess is that most people would be drawn in enough by the voice trick you use to open the story that they'd read.
One of the alternatives I was considering was focusing on the main character's problems connecting with his peers (his central conflict) for the first part of the story, and introducing the audience to his family problems afterwards. Is that perhaps a better move? I'm always a bit concerned about launching into the main conflict immediately, so I tend to emphasize minor conflicts (like the father here). In this case, though, I think I'll probably go in a different direction because of your feedback.
Also, thanks for the advice, BJK. I am one of those people who obsesses with beginnings, but thankfully I've already moved far enough beyond the opening with this story that I think I can keep it going.
I'm wondering as well, is my beginning narration interesting enough that a reader would want to see it again later? Currently, I don't have much of that voice later on--after the opening it basically dissolves. I'm wary about overdoing it.
Anyway, I'm going to start drawing up an alternate conflict-introduction outline to consider. I'll still be thankful for any input on the fragment I have posted, especially your first impressions.
I'm not sure I understand what BJK doesn't like about the father appearing in the beginning; I'd hesitate to rewrite without further clarification. But your impulse to open with conflict with his peers could also be sound - either way you'll have some conflict in the beginning, which is good. It really depends on what the story's about, and how you're going to build from this beginning.
As for the voice, I agree very much with Survivor. It really does read as if you're demonstrating skill rather than simply fumbling around hoping for the best. That you're concerned about overdoing it also shows that you know what you're doing. If you do let the voice become more ordinary, I'd take pains to make sure that transition is seamless, and that the ordinary voice retains hints of the opening voice.
This opening didn't work for me in general, however, as I found the assumptions about what "I, the reader" would do to be irritating. As people presumably are asking him this question, in the interviews, why not use their questions? Why involve the reader? Probably just a personal reaction, move along, move along .
I didn't quite understand Dane's motivations for keeping silent about his father, or what the consequences would be if he spoke up. That part of the story felt a little muddled.
There's potential for an engaging character here, but I think you need to flesh him out beyond the stock characteristics we see here.
I think that his codependent relationship is a huge problem and it needs to be addressed...but I'd prefer that he have a couple of even bigger problems to worry about first. Still, that's a matter of artistic choice. I find stories where a major part of the tension is supplied by some neurosis of the protagonist to be a bit...they tend to be inherently linear. Overcoming neuroses may be difficult, but it looks easy. It even feels easy, after you do it. It's not like, say, breaking a heroin addiction.
And, as Buffy was probably trying to point out, they're inherently difficult to understand, particularly when you posit that the character is otherwise brilliant.
I think perhaps it comes down to the broad brushstrokes problem--there's not yet enough in the story to give us an insight into this young person and this father.
Survivor is probably right--there is often resistance to problems that could be solved by the protagonist getting up the courage to walk away. We might not have that courage ourselves, but that doesn't seem to stop us not respecting others who don't .
As far as conflicts go, since the character's primary conflict will be his connections with peers, I think I will switch that in at the beginning for the father's problem. As Beth mentioned, it will probably be easier for me to begin with the main conflict right from the start, and keep the secondary conflicts in the background a bit.
I'm going to keep the relationship between Dane and his father for story reasons, but I will play it down a bit. Thanks for your impressions on that, BuffySquirrel. I also appreciate your explanation, Survivor. It helped me see more clearly what such an unexplained situation could do to the reader's impressions. It does alter the audience's view of Dane--to a degree that I don't want it to. The later physical danger I have planned for the main character I'm hoping will generate a bit more sympathy, and then I'll work on fleshing out his background somewhere in the middle, along with more explanation of my character's motives.
I'm starting to work off an idea of BuffySquirrel's that I liked--using my beginning tone for the more omniscient narration, as from an observer's point of view, and getting more serious when merging into a hotter POV scene. I think this will be useful to the audience to have a clear contrast between the face my character shows to the general public, and how he actually feels. What do you think?
I don't think I'll use the suggestion to change my first paragraph's language to avoid talking to the audience. I doubt I could write it as an effective opening with peripheral character's questioning, because I don't believe it's as catchy. However, I do know how annoying audience-assumption writing is (a bit too chatty for my liking) and I only plan to use it here in the beginning.
Since I'm going to begin a rewrite of the few thousand words I've gotten so far, I'm not going to look for readers yet. But after I've polished it up a bit, I'll let you know. From the helpful responses I have recieved so far, I'll be willing to offer more material to anyone who wants to critique. In the meantime, if there are any more suggestions or thoughts about the fragment, I would be grateful to hear them. Thanks again!
I think that if Dane's dependence on his father is in the context of a history of even more difficult relationships with anyone that isn't blood related, then it works. Much like that last sentance didn't
I have to agree with webm0nster about the second paragraph. That one had me scratching my head too because it seemed so abrupt.
I second Beth's comments about using conflict as an opener. I see openers as the colorful travel brochure that makes readers interested in taking the trip to your made-up world. To use another example, think of the first couple minutes of most drama/action TV shows. Someone dies or something gets blown up, then they cut to the title sequence and commercials. If you don't change the channel then the hook has worked.
Best of luck with the writing.