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Date Posted: 22:17:46 04/19/09 Sun
Author: Page
Subject: Re: The two contenders >>>>
In reply to: Page 's message, "Twofer Sunday" on 21:55:29 04/19/09 Sun

Excerpts from Carey On (former working title The Rain Song)
©2009 by Juli Morgan. All rights reserved.
Lyrics to Remembrance Of Things Past by Christopher L Webster. ©2009 by Un-Reel Music. All rights reserved. Used by permission.
Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not constitute publication.

#1:

CHAPTER ONE
JUST LIKE HAIGHT-ASHBURY, ONLY BETTER

Somewhere outside Chicago, 1975

There was some rock and roll hoochie koo going on in the back of the tour bus. The moans, squeals and giggles emanating from the back seat indicated that several members of the band Whistlepig were cavorting with a number of enthusiastic groupies, picked up from only God knew where.

Seated near the middle of the bus, Whistlepig's lead singer pulled her sweater over her head in an unsuccessful attempt to block out the noise. Katie was so jaded that on any other day, the entire band could have had sex in front of her, and she wouldn't have lifted a brow. But today the rhythmic grunts and breathless moans only served to remind her she hadn't had any koo – hoochie or otherwise – in quite some time.

Even with no sex on her personal horizon, Katie was looking forward to arriving in Chicago. They'd be staying in a hotel, not the usual motor court into which they'd been stuffed during this tour. The thought of a soft bed, room service, and best of all, no show that night, made Katie quiver with anticipation. She'd finally have a chance to rest her voice, her body, and her mind. A refugee of the Summer of Love, Katie made a habit of avoiding chemical assistance to get her up or put her down; but lately she'd been popping dexies like they were Chiclets, and she was more than ready for a long night's deep sleep.

The intrusive sounds from the back of the bus intensified, reaching a furious pitch before ending in a protracted feminine moan of ecstasy. “And the Oscar goes to...” Katie muttered under her breath, but she couldn't stop the grin that accompanied her comment. Other than Katie, none of the members of the band had been part of such a large tour before. Buoyed by the stories they'd heard about the road activities of bands like Led Zeppelin and Shadowed Knight, they were keen to indulge in the decadent rock and roll lifestyle. Katie, though, had spent time on the road with Shadowed Knight, and was more amused by Whistlepig's shenanigans than anything else. She didn't have the heart to tell them their antics, as depraved as they thought they were, didn't even come close to the way the big boys played. In a little over two weeks, however, they'd be able to observe it up close and personal. Katie wouldn’t be a bit surprised to learn the members of Whistlepig had notebooks at the ready, pens poised to take notes.

Whistlepig's tour would end in Los Angeles, and they'd be meeting up with Shadowed Knight at the famed Continental Hyatt House. Not for nothing was this place referred to as the Riot House in rock circles. Bands loved it for its proximity to The Whiskey and The Rainbow, hot and cold running groupies, and management that didn't care what they did as long as the bill was paid – along with compensation for horrendous damages, of course. Shadowed Knight's singer, Adam Greene, always quoted Dorothy Parker when talking about the Riot House, saying it was a place he could lay his hat and a few friends. Katie would much prefer to stay at another location, but Walter, the wiry, foul-mouthed manager of Whistlepig and Shadowed Knight, was determined to save money by stuffing both the bands he managed into the same hotel. He must have made some sort of deal with The Forum, as well, since the bands would play on consecutive nights. There was no way Whistlepig was going to sell out The Forum, especially not with Shadowed Knight scheduled to play there the following day, and despite her dislike of Walter, Katie was impressed he'd been able to book the fledgling band into such a large arena.

Playing at The Forum wasn't Katie's main concern, though. Yes, it was the biggest arena at which the band had appeared, but she felt the same attack of nerves whether performing in a high school auditorium, or the college campuses that had been the norm on this tour. Feeling almost sick from the stage-fright that gripped her backstage, she always forgot where she was when the music started, her nervousness fleeing before the assault of electric guitars and pounding drums. Whistlepig’s charismatic lead guitarist, Zach Harris, handled all the banter between songs, allowing Katie to remain in the safe bubble that removed her from the audience. She heard the screams and cheers, of course, but as long as she thought of it as a taped soundtrack behind the show, she was able to push it to the back of her mind and concentrate on the music.

No, the L.A. venue wasn't what made her heart thump like a trip hammer and her breath come short. It was knowing she was going to be seeing Shadowed Knight again after almost two months that made her as nervous as a sacrificial virgin at the lip of the volcano. Katie was disgusted at these fan-girly vapors, and gave herself a stern lecture, mentally reciting a list of her accomplishments to bring things into perspective. It didn’t help. The fact that Whistlepig's eponymous first album had just reached the number three spot on Billboard's Hot 100 seemed to make it worse. Shadowed Knight's album was at number two, and Whistlepig was not just knocking at their back door; sales indicated they were hammering it down.

There was no reason she should feel guilty at Whistlepig’s increasing success. No reason at all, but the fact remained that she felt each sold-out show, each album bought, each glowing review was taking something away from Shadowed Knight. Shadowed Knight wouldn’t think so, and she knew they’d berate her for feeling that way. After all, that’s what they were all striving for. Despite the high-sounding reasons musicians spouted to the rock magazines, the main reason bands worked so hard was to be successful. Even the musicians she'd known in Haight-Ashbury had yearned for a record contract. Oh, yes, she had known a few who swore they only made music for the sake of the music itself, but Katie scoffed at the idea. Even they were putting on a show, wanting to be known as people who were above the fray. It all boiled down to the fact that everyone wanted Andy Warhol's fifteen minutes of fame, and would do anything they could to stretch it to twenty.

Almost everyone, that is. It was true Katie did enjoy the positive reaction to the songs she'd written; and, even though she never read reviews, letting the reactions of her fellow bandmates let her know how the press was treating them, she was aware that critics were in love with her voice. She wouldn't be human if she didn't feel a sense of pride at the adulation she received. But Katie had never sought success, and any she attained came with the belief she wasn't entitled to it. Each bit of praise left her feeling like a fraud. She was quite aware that if it hadn't been for her association with Shadowed Knight, she wouldn't be sitting on this tour bus, nor would she have an album, much less one climbing the charts, threatening to overtake the very people who had made Katie’s fame a reality.


#2:
CHAPTER ONE
JUST LIKE HAIGHT-ASHBURY, ONLY BETTER

Chicago, 1975

“Oh, God, I’m going to be sick!” Katie pressed her hands to her stomach, and turned to flee. The faces of the people gathered backstage, bathed in the sickly yellow light of the overhead flourescents, blurred into a solid mass as her panicked eyes passed across them, looking for a way out. A strong arm grabbed her around the waist, checking her flight forward, and she was hauled back against a warm chest.

“No, you’re not.” Zach Harris, the charismatic lead guitarist for Whistlepig, held Katie in a firm grip, preventing her escape. Katie struggled against his hold, but it was nothing more than a pro forma protest; she knew Zach wouldn’t let her go. He was the only member of the band she could count on to deal effectively with her pre-concert jitters. God knows, she couldn’t do it herself. Collapsed against Zach’s chest, Katie wondered again why the hell she couldn’t shake her debilitating stage fright. It was humiliating to be the only member of the band who had a melt-down before every show. “Anybody got any weed?” Zach demanded, his strong voice overriding the noise of the waiting crowd on the other side of the wall of amps. One of the groupies, a girl thin to the point of emaciation with stringy brown hair, stepped forward and handed Zach a tightly rolled joint. “Thanks, love,” he said in dismissal, and passed the joint to Katie. “Blaze that up, baby; it’ll help.”

“Says you,” Katie muttered. Nevertheless, she put the joint to her lips as an anonymous hand held forth a lighter. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she drew the harsh smoke deep into her lungs, and held it, letting the drug enter her bloodstream. After a moment, she released the smoke through her lips in a thin ribbon, her sick feeling fading as the gray-white cloud rose toward the ceiling. Dizzy, Katie clutched at Zach’s arm, still firm around her waist, and laughed. “Wow. That’s some good shit.”

Zach peered at her in the uncertain light, and seemed to be reassured she wasn’t going to bolt again. He released his hold on her, and patted her on the head. “There you go,” he told her, his smile causing a feminine flutter of excitement among the small herd of groupies standing near them.

Batting his hand away from her head, Katie looked at him with asperity. “Don’t think that smile works on me.” Despite her words, even Katie wasn’t immune to Zach’s beauty, and couldn’t stop the smile she gave him in reply.

Although her nausea had disappeared, her nerves were still stretched tighter than the strings on the guitars lined up on stands in rows next to the amps. She hoped the swarm of butterflies still in residence in her stomach might take notice of her happy expression, and leave, thinking everything was alright. Hoping to smoke them out, she took another hit off the joint, and watched Zach rake his white-blonde hair back from his face with one hand before donning a baseball cap. Katie raised her brows in surprise. She’d never pegged Zach as a Chicago Cubs fan; she was willing to wager he didn’t even know what baseball was. Too, the bill of the cap threw his face into shadow, obscuring the main reason most females bothered to come to a Whistlepig concert. “The bill on that thing’s gonna drive you crazy, Zach.” Katie gestured at his headgear with the glowing end of the joint. “Where the hell did you get it, anyway?”

“Dunno.” Zach shrugged, the black satin vest he wore tightening over his torso. “One of the girls gave it to me.” He turned the cap around backward, so the bill jutted over the back of his neck, leaving the strong lines of his face and his striking blue eyes revealed. “Better?”

“All kinds of better,” Katie assured him. “If I wasn’t taken, I’d throw you down to the floor right now and molest you in front of everybody.” The pot seemed to be working; it was loosening up her tongue, at any rate. She loved Zach, but she didn’t, you know, love him.

Zach threw back his head and laughed. “Right, love. All I need is your old man on my ass.” Well-defined muscles in his upper arms flexed as he reached back to gather his waist-length hair into a ponytail. “He’s got more than enough clout to have me sent back to playing cover songs in pubs, you know?”

Katie had forgotten she’d meant to be sick, her incipient nausea having vanished as much from Zach’s manner as from the marijuana. The undisputed leader of Whistlepig, his powerful personality kept all of them in line, and Katie was certain he was the reason the band’s album had rocketed up the charts the way it had. It had been Katie’s name that had gotten them the recording contract; it was Zach Harris that made them successful.

The noise level from the audience rose as the lights on the stage went out, and Katie felt the sting of nervous sweat break out along her hair line. This was the part she hated most. Once they hit the stage, the titanic roar of music from the amps would drown out the noise from the crowd, and the bright lights would obscure them from her view. She’d forget there were thousands of pairs of eyes on her; but with their cheers filling her ears, she was all too aware she was mere moments away from having to walk out there in front of them.

“Oh, Katieee!” a voice crooned in her ear. “They want you, Katieeee.” The mingled scents of Chanel Number Five and Beefeater Gin enveloped Katie as Whistlepig’s keyboard player, Angela Brightwell, hugged her from behind. “They love you, baby!”

“You’re not helping, Ang.” With a stern glance at Angela, Zach took Katie’s arm and pulled her away from the other girl’s grip. “It’s just a soundtrack, love. Remember? Just background noise. We can do this.”

“Right,” Katie croaked. “Just background noise.” The tight beam of a flashlight held by a member of the road crew appeared on the ground in front of them, and Katie took a deep breath before allowing Zach to pull her along in the light’s wake.

Gathered just off-stage, the six members of Whistlepig huddled together, drawing strength from each other, and, for everyone except Katie, from the energy of the enthusiastic crowd. The cheers and screams of anticipation threatened to take off the roof of the college auditorium, and Katie felt the power from it flowing into her friends, charging them with energy. That same power was constructing a bubble around Katie, a barrier that would keep her isolated from anything not on the stage. Calm inside her bubble, Katie stepped back as the band’s traditional group hug ended, and followed the road crew onto the portable platform, the glow from their flashlights weaving and bobbing like fireflies in the darkness.

As Katie reached up to remove her mic from its stand, a red glow from her hand caught her eye. Cursing her stupidity in bringing marijuana onto a college stage, she dropped her hand to her side, and let the joint fall to the stage floor. The heel of her boot crushed the glowing ember dead. No miffed school officials rushed the stage to drag her away, and she let out a silent sigh of relief as the band did a quick tune up. The audience went wild at hearing the swift chops from the guitars and bass, and the monster thump of Sam’s bass drum.

A lone spotlight clicked on, illuminating a trembling, skinny boy who stood frozen behind Zach’s mic. Katie seemed to remember someone telling her he was the student body president, or some such thing. Jeers and catcalls from the audience greeted his appearance, and some wise-ass yelled, “Play Free Bird!” From where she stood, Katie saw the boy’s throat move as he gulped.

“Good evening!” he squeaked. Lucky for him, no one but the band had heard him; he stood too far from the mic for it to pick up his voice. With a sigh, Katie stepped behind him, and shoved him hard between his shoulder blades. The push sent him stumbling forward, and his lips touched the surface of the mic. “Good evening!” he blurted out in surprise; that time the vast PA system made his voice thunder like Thor’s, and he stopped, transfixed by the sound.

“Get on with it, mate,” Zach growled behind him. “We ain’t got all night.”

Recalled to his purpose, the boy nodded, and started his spiel. “Alright! Get ready to rock and roll! Your student government association is proud to present a band whose album is all the way up to number three on Billboard’s Hot 100! From London, England, please welcome – Whistlepig!”

Sounding tiny and indistinct, Sam’s drumsticks clicked together four times, counting off the beat. The quiet, leashed-in ferocity of Kenny’s rhythm guitar broke the silence, building the anticipation before the assault of electric guitars and thundering bass drum screamed through the speakers, and drowned out the resulting cheers of the crowd. The stage lights blazed to life, giving off so much heat it felt like someone had left the door to hell standing wide open. Already sweating under her black blouse like she’d run a marathon, Katie let the music fill her, the raw power of it pushing out everything but the beat, the melody, and the words that begged to be sung.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you
Not a soul could ever take your place…”

An awareness that something wasn’t right broke through her absorption, and she realized their erstwhile announcer was still on stage, standing behind Zach’s mic like he was the newest member of the band.

“I've learned to love with some detachment,
But everywhere I look, I see your face.…”

The mic still at her lips, the words of the song coming by rote, Katie strode over to him, and, taking a firm grip on his arm, flung him to the side of the stage where he was rescued by a member of the road crew. That little distraction taken care of, Katie let her voice soar free as the band crashed into the chorus.

“I haven’t learned to live without you,
But my smile has learned never to betray…”

“There’s not a day goes by that you don’t cross my mind,” testified Zach, Kenny and Angela on backup vocals.

As she sang to the unseen – and unacknowledged – audience, part of Katie’s mind was going over the set list, and the remaining songs the band would perform. An hour and a half – that’s what she had to get through. An hour and a half of baking hot lights, screaming guitars, and drums that pounded through her body. An hour and a half until she could shed this fucking stupid rock goddess thing, and pretend it was all a bad dream.

Last edited by author: Sat April 25, 2009 12:53:13   Edited 2 times.

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[> [> Page>>> -- susiej, 10:30:38 04/20/09 Mon

My intial reaction was "Oh, the second, for sure." But as I read on, I wasn't so sure.

I liked how that one started (one wee comment, Zach's initial intro seemed a bit long, maybe take out charismaic because we pick up on that point pretty quick anyway, and he is charismatic because he kept me intrigued)

So, this probably isn't any help, but could you combine the two?

Maybe, when Katie takes her puff, she could ponder a minute safely in her hazy bubble about some of the things we learned toward the end of the first- the info about Shadowed Knight and the fact that she got her start from them, her honeyed voice, her song 3rd, their's 2nd. I really liked all that.

For the sake of word count,the hotel stuff, learning about the manager right then- that could be deleted without hampering the flow of info and you could delete the nervous college boy- he was a little distracting- stick to the hot Zach and the conflicted Katie, the anticpation of the crowd, the lights, the intriguing other band and her connection to them; that really sets the mood and the story. IMHO

PS- you remember how you jokingly said "could you do mine" when referring to the 3 sentence summary. Well, while I was in the shower awaiting the conditioning rinse, your little challenge came to mind. So here it is. (Now, I recognize that I haven't read the whole thing so this is simply my feel for what I've read)

With groupies galore, can any rock god stay faithful to a woman? Katie doubts it and wonders if she'd even want him to; afterall, it was partly his legendary charisma that drew her to Jay, and she's certainly no saint, herself. Yet, even the best performers in the world need to lay aside the mask when the lights go down.

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[> [> [> Re: Holy cow, susiej! >>> -- Page, 16:13:09 04/21/09 Tue

You could so make some dough writing hook lines for driven-insane-by-query-letter-writing authors! That's BRILLIANT! I prostrate myself at your feet in admiration, and no kidding!

I ditched the college boy, poor thing. I had remembered what it was like the first few times I had to introduce acts, and the feel of that hand shoving me toward the mic. (The fact that it was Joe Elliott's hand shoving didn't make it any better!) But you're right; he was distracting, so he's been relegated to the "various ideas" file.

The mix of the two is below, and I got the word count down to 1,762! Let me know what you think!

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> [> [> So glad you like it! And I know how you feel>>> -- susiej, 22:43:10 04/21/09 Tue

about cutting stuff. (I cut all of Rose's childhood-20k and I loved some of those scenes, but really they were just fodder for me to "know" her.) Maybe that college guy is another story waiting to be told.

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[> [> Re: The two contenders >>>> -- Debi, 13:31:54 04/20/09 Mon

I like aspects of both, the second one is more showing than telling and I like that. Maybe some elements of the first could be incorporated, like Susie suggested. I think her instincts are pretty good about it, but I do like the glimpse of Katie's horrendous stage fright. I've heard it said that's Van Morrison's problem and why he tends to wear long coats, hats and dark shades on stage.

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[> [> [> Re: Stage fright! >>> -- Page, 16:16:09 04/21/09 Tue

I didn't know about Van Morrison! I do know Carly Simon had stage-fright so bad she didn't perform live for years. That's where I got the idea for Katie to have it, too. Plus, none of this was Katie's idea to begin with, and her being unwilling to go onstage fits in with that.

I've combined (or tried to!) the two below. Let me know what you think!

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> Re: A #3 combo with fries. (In other words, a re-write)>>>>> -- Page, 15:59:46 04/21/09 Tue

Man, I'm glad y'all are here to keep me sane. I've worried over this part for so long, I didn't even think about trying to combine the two. Seems like Katie Carey isn't the only one with performance anxiety! I've done some mixing. How's this one? Don't be afraid to spare my feelings -- these pages are the ones that go with the query letter. *shudder*
(NOTE: It would help if the captcha on this one didn't start with EW. *G*)

Excerpt from Carey On (former working title
The Rain Song)
©2009 by Juli Morgan. All rights reserved.
Lyrics to Remembrance Of Things Past by Christopher L Webster. ©2009 by Un-Reel Music. All rights reserved. Used by permission.
Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not
constitute publication.

CHAPTER ONE
JUST LIKE HAIGHT-ASHBURY, ONLY BETTER

Chicago, 1975

“Oh, God, I’m going to be sick!” Katie pressed her hands to her stomach, and turned to flee. The faces of the people gathered backstage, bathed in the sickly yellow light of the overhead flourescents, blurred into a solid mass as her panicked eyes passed across them, looking for a way out. A strong arm grabbed her around the waist, checking her flight forward, and she was hauled back against a warm chest.

“No, you’re not.” Zach Harris, the lead guitarist for Whistlepig, held Katie in a firm grip, preventing her escape. Katie struggled against his hold, but it was nothing more than a pro forma protest; she knew Zach wouldn’t let her go. He was the only member of the band she could count on to deal effectively with her pre-concert jitters. God knows, she couldn’t do it herself. Collapsed against Zach’s chest, Katie wondered again why the hell she couldn’t shake her debilitating stage fright. It was humiliating to be the only member of the band who had a melt-down before every show. “Anybody got any weed?” Zach demanded, his strong voice overriding the noise of the waiting crowd on the other side of the wall of amps. One of the groupies, a girl thin to the point of emaciation with stringy brown hair, stepped forward and handed Zach a tightly rolled joint. “Thanks, love,” he said in dismissal, and passed the joint to Katie. “Blaze
that up, baby; it’ll help.”

“Says you,” Katie muttered. Nevertheless, she put the joint to her lips as an anonymous hand held forth a lighter. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she drew the harsh smoke deep into her lungs, and held it, letting the drug enter her bloodstream. After a moment, she released the smoke through her lips in a thin ribbon, her sick feeling fading as the gray-white cloud rose toward the ceiling. Dizzy, Katie clutched at Zach’s arm, still firm around her waist, and laughed. “Wow. That’s some good shit.”

Zach peered at her in the uncertain light, and seemed to be reassured she wasn’t going to bolt again. He released his hold on her, and patted her on the head, as if she were a puppy who’d responded well on command.

Although her nausea was dissipating, her nerves were still stretched tighter than the strings on the guitars lined up on stands in rows next to the amps. She hoped the swarm of butterflies still in residence in her stomach might take notice of her happy expression, and leave, thinking everything was alright. In an effort to smoke them out, she took another hit off the joint, and watched Zach rake his white-blonde hair back from his face with one hand before donning a baseball cap. Katie raised her brows in surprise. She’d never pegged Zach as a Chicago Cubs fan; she was willing to wager he didn’t even know what baseball was. Too, the bill of the cap threw his face into shadow, obscuring the main reason most females bothered to come to a Whistlepig concert. “The bill on that thing’s gonna drive you crazy, Zach.” Katie gestured at his headgear with the glowing end of the joint. “Where the hell did you get it, anyway?”

“Dunno.” Zach shrugged, the black satin vest he wore tightening over his torso. “One of the girls gave it to me.” He turned the cap around backward, so the bill jutted over the back of his neck, leaving the strong lines of his face and his striking blue eyes revealed. “Better?”

“All kinds of better,” Katie assured him. “If I wasn’t taken, I’d throw you down to the floor right now and molest you in front of everybody.” The pot seemed to be working; it was loosening up her tongue, at any rate. She loved Zach, but she didn’t, you know, love him.

Zach threw back his head and laughed. “Right, love. All I need is your old man on my ass.” Well-defined muscles in his upper arms flexed as he reached back to gather his waist-length hair into a ponytail. “He’s got more than enough clout to have me sent back to playing cover songs in pubs, you know?”

That wasn’t going to happen. The undisputed leader of Whistlepig, Zach was the reason the band’s album had rocketed up the charts the way it had. It had been Katie’s name that had gotten them the recording contract; it was Zach Harris that made them successful. Well, Zach along with Shadowed Knight. It didn’t hurt to have one of the world’s biggest rock bands lauding a new act to everyone they met, and Shadowed Knight had pushed Whistlepig to the music press like proud parents showing off a new baby. And Whistlepig had behaved just like a growing child – minding its parents, following the rules, and then, upon reaching adolescence, turning and biting the hand that fed it.

That’s the way Katie felt about it, at any rate. The fact that her band’s first album had just reached the number three spot on Billboard's Hot 100 was a case in point. Shadowed Knight's album was at number two, and Whistlepig was not just knocking at their back door; sales indicated they were hammering it down. Success was wonderful, yes, but Katie didn’t want it at the expense of people she
loved.

The noise level from the audience rose as the lights on the stage went out, and Katie felt the sting of nervous sweat break out along her hair line. This was the part she hated most. Once they hit the stage, the titanic roar of music from the amps would drown out the noise from the crowd, and the bright lights would obscure them from her view. She’d forget there were thousands of pairs of eyes on her; but with their cheers filling her ears, she was all too aware she was mere moments away from having to walk out there in front of them.

“Oh, Katieee!” a voice crooned in her ear. “They want you, Katieeee.” The mingled scents of Chanel Number Five and Beefeater Gin enveloped Katie as Whistlepig’s keyboard player, Angela Brightwell, hugged her from behind. “They love you, baby!”

“You’re not helping, Ang.” With a stern glance at Angela, Zach took Katie’s arm and pulled her away from the other girl’s grip. “It’s just a soundtrack, love. Remember? Just background noise. We can do this.”

“Right,” Katie croaked. “Just background noise.” The tight beam of a flashlight held by a member of the road crew appeared on the ground in front of them, and Katie allowed Zach to pull her along in its wake.

Gathered just off-stage, the six members of Whistlepig huddled together, drawing strength from each other, and, for everyone except Katie, from the energy of the enthusiastic crowd. The cheers and screams of anticipation threatened to take off the roof of the college auditorium, and Katie felt the power from it flowing into her friends, charging them with energy. That same power was constructing a bubble around Katie, a barrier that would keep her isolated from anything not on the stage. Calm inside her protective shell, Katie stepped back as the band’s traditional group hug ended, and followed the road crew onto the portable platform, the glow from their flashlights weaving and bobbing like fireflies in the darkness.

The band performed a quick tune-up, and the audience sent up a cheer at hearing the swift chops from the guitars and bass, and the monster thump of Sam’s bass drum. Some wise-ass yelled, “Play Free Bird!”, and the crowd responded with jeers and catcalls.

“Fuck that,” Zach muttered. The vast P.A. system picked up his comment, and sent it soaring through the auditorium like the mighty voice of Thor, the resulting roar from the audience the thunder of his hammer.

In the nick of time, Katie got her hand over her mic before her laughter burst free. She didn’t know who was supposed to introduce the band, but it was too late for them now. The throng of people in the room was too keyed up to brook any more delay; she could feel their impatience, even through her bubble. Removing her mic from its stand, she put it to her lips. “Good evening. We’re from London, and our name is Whistlepig. Let’s rock ‘n roll!”

Clear and sharp, Sam’s drumsticks clicked together four times, counting off the beat. The quiet, leashed-in ferocity of Kenny’s rhythm guitar cut through the rumble of the crowd, building the anticipation to an unbearable pitch before the assault of electric guitars and thundering bass drum screamed through the speakers. The stage lights blazed to life, giving off so much heat it felt like someone had left the door to hell standing wide open. Already sweating under her black blouse like she’d run a marathon, Katie let the music fill her, the raw power of it pulsing through her body; the beat, the melody, and the words that begged to be sung.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you
Not a soul could ever take your place…”

A picture formed in Katie’s mind, the same picture that always appeared when she sang. She smiled back at the face she saw, and sang her heart out to him.

“I’ve learned to love with some detachment,
But everywhere I look I see your face…”

Without Katie’s being aware of it, every male in the audience strained forward, each of them wanting to believe that smile was for him, hoping like hell the look of naughty pleasure on her face came from his being present to hear her sing. None of them had the faintest clue she didn’t even know they were there. She sang for one man, and one man only; and he’d never seen her perform. Katie let her voice soar free as the band crashed into the chorus.

“I haven’t learned to live without you,
But my smile has learned never to betray…”

“There’s not a day goes by that you don’t cross my mind,” testified Zach, Kenny and Angela on backup vocals.

As Katie sang to her absent lover, part of her mind was on the setlist, and how much longer the show would last. An hour and a half – that’s what she had to get through. An hour and a half of baking hot lights, screaming guitars, and drums that pounded through her body. An hour and a half until she could shed this fucking stupid rock goddess thing, and pretend it was all a bad dream.

Last edited by author: Sat April 25, 2009 12:52:10   Edited 2 times.

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[> [> [> Can I get onion rings instead? *BG* -- Debi, 20:36:03 04/21/09 Tue

I like this one a lot. One little thing: if Zach is British and he doesn't want Jay harrassing him about Katie, would he not want her old man on his 'arse'? I had a friend from Edinburgh inform me that an 'ass' was a donkey.

"And Whistlepig had behaved just like a growing child – minding its parents, following the rules, and then, upon reaching adolescence, turning and biting the hand that fed it."

Love this line! And the Freebird line too, but was it common practice to shout this at that point in time? (I've been to several Skynryd concerts and it always irritates me no end for some jackass to shout "FREEBIRD!" before the first song, because, if the band were to comply, the concert would consist of that single song.)

"She sang for one man, and one man only; and he’d never seen her perform."

Fantastic.

I like this version much better. Losing the student body president was a good move, distracting from what's important, Katie and the band.

Excellent work!

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[> [> [> [> Re: But of course! And with that zesty sauce, too! >>>> -- Page, 21:20:33 04/21/09 Tue

>I like this one a lot. One little thing: if Zach is
>British and he doesn't want Jay harrassing him about
>Katie, would he not want her old man on his 'arse'? I
>had a friend from Edinburgh inform me that an 'ass'
>was a donkey.

Oh, man, you're right! Thanks for pointing that out. I totally missed it!
>
>"And Whistlepig had behaved just like a growing child
>– minding its parents, following the rules, and then,
>upon reaching adolescence, turning and biting the hand
>that fed it."
>
>Love this line! And the Freebird line too, but was it
>common practice to shout this at that point in time?
>(I've been to several Skynryd concerts and it always
>irritates me no end for some jackass to shout
>"FREEBIRD!" before the first song, because, if the
>band were to comply, the concert would consist of that
>single song.)

Yep, Free Bird was hollered at concerts then. I checked before I wrote it, 'cause I really wanted that in there. *G* (When I saw Jimmy Page & Robert Plant in 1995, people were yelling "STAIRWAY!!!!" the minute the show started. I was like, "Are you people crazy? I wanna hear Kashmir!")
>
>"She sang for one man, and one man only; and he’d
>never seen her perform."
>
>Fantastic.

TY!
>
>I like this version much better. Losing the student
>body president was a good move, distracting from
>what's important, Katie and the band.
>
>Excellent work!

Thank you so much, Debi! I was able to take most of what I deleted from the first version, and am working it into when Whistlepig gets to L.A. and meets up w/Shadowed Knight, so it worked out better all the way around!

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> [> [> [> Yes, yes, much better! -- Larn, 01:03:26 04/24/09 Fri

Stage fright isn't all that uncommon, actually. Regina Spektor was almost an hour late to her Savannah concert because of overwhelming nerves. I think it fits Katie very well, actually.

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[> [> [> Back to the start eh? Okay, I'm good at pretending I don’t know nothing…>>> -- Esther, 13:22:58 04/26/09 Sun

I’m glad you did the re-write. Although with you I should know to wait, cause I just finished going through the two scenes, came back to the board, and saw this. So…not much point posting a crit on something that isn’t relevant anymore. Anyway, I like this much better, but I do have some comments.


Man, I'm glad y'all are here to keep me sane. I've worried over this part for so long, I didn't even think about trying to combine the two. Seems like Katie Carey isn't the only one with performance anxiety! I've done some mixing. How's this one? Don't be afraid to spare my feelings -- these pages are the ones that go with the query letter. *shudder*
(NOTE: It would help if the captcha on this one didn't start with EW. *G*)

Excerpt from Carey On (former working title
The Rain Song)
©2009 by Juli Morgan. All rights reserved.
Lyrics to Remembrance Of Things Past by Christopher L Webster. ©2009 by Un-Reel Music. All rights reserved. Used by permission.
Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not
constitute publication.

CHAPTER ONE
JUST LIKE HAIGHT-ASHBURY, ONLY BETTER

Chicago, 1975

“Oh, God, I’m going to be sick!” Katie pressed her hands to her stomach, and turned to flee. The faces of the people gathered backstage, bathed in the sickly yellow light of the overhead flourescents, blurred into a solid mass as her panicked eyes passed across them, looking for a way out. A strong arm grabbed her around the waist, checking her flight forward, and she was hauled back against a warm chest.

For the opening sentence, I don’t think it’s strong enough. I mean, without knowing anything about these characters, Katie could be just another pregnant woman experiencing morning sickness. That she’s backstage, doesn’t really indicate any importance at this point as we don’t know who she is, except that she’s about to toss her cookies. Is the question of whether she does or not enough to keep me reading? Prolly not. There’s nothing really here to capture my attention. I’ve done the vomit thing and it’s not pleasant.

The descriptions aren’t vivid enough, the faces are a blurry mass under florescent light (should it be spelled fluorescents?) so there is nothing for me to grasp onto. Okay, you’ve got the main character here, but personally, the first thing I want to read prolly isn’t about someone throwing up. Unless…it’s in the middle of the action. But I don’t know how you’d incorporate that here.

“No, you’re not.” Zach Harris, the lead guitarist for Whistlepig, held Katie in a firm grip, preventing her escape. Katie struggled against his hold, but it was nothing more than a pro forma protest; she knew Zach wouldn’t let her go. He was the only member of the band she could count on to deal effectively with her pre-concert jitters. God knows, she couldn’t do it herself. Collapsed against Zach’s chest, Katie wondered again why the hell she couldn’t shake her debilitating stage fright. It was humiliating to be the only member of the band who had a melt-down before every show. “Anybody got any weed?” Zach demanded, his strong voice overriding the noise of the waiting crowd on the other side of the wall of amps. One of the groupies, a girl thin to the point of emaciation with stringy brown hair, stepped forward and handed Zach a tightly rolled joint. “Thanks, love,” he said in dismissal, and passed the joint to Katie. “Blaze that up, baby; it’ll help.”

This paragraph is too too long. If you want to have and keep my attention, it needs to read/flow faster than this.

For instance, first sentence – we already know that her flight was stopped, so I think prevented her escape is redundant and can be cut. And there are way too many people in this paragraph. Zach spoke, he held Katie. Katie intrudes in his paragraph with her struggles, her reflection he was the only one who could help, her frustration and humiliation at not being able to control her stage fright. The Zack speaks, demanding weed, gets some off a groupie, (an emaciated one to boot) and then dismisses her to pass the joint to Katie. You need to separate this a bit. And if Zack knows how a joint will help Katie’s stage fright, how come he didn’t have any?

And as judgemental as this makes me, I’m wondering about Katie now. Stage fright might be a normal thing, but you’re introducing your character and exposing one of her greatest weaknesses. It’s not an endearing trait, she’s an experienced singer who can’t get over the jitters. All fine and dandy, if I had gotten to know this as the story progressed and I could understand her personality and knew what a strong character she was. Here, it’s just an exposure of her limitations.

“Says you,” Katie muttered. Nevertheless, she put the joint to her lips as an anonymous hand held forth a lighter. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she drew the harsh smoke deep into her lungs, and held it, letting the drug enter her bloodstream. After a moment, she released the smoke through her lips in a thin ribbon, her sick feeling fading as the gray-white cloud rose toward the ceiling. Dizzy, Katie clutched at Zach’s arm, still firm around her waist, and laughed. “Wow. That’s some good shit.”

Says you she says. So she’s admitted he’s the only one who can help yet she’s muttering and sounding ungrateful, and then lights it up. Geez, not treating Zack very nice. *G* Why wouldn’t she know who gave her a light? And why she sound so surprised that it’s good stuff? Is she accustomed to second rate stuff or by this time would she consider it her due?

Zach peered at her in the uncertain light, and seemed to be reassured she wasn’t going to bolt again. He released his hold on her, and patted her on the head, as if she were a puppy who’d responded well on command.

Now this I don’t understand. His patting her on the head leads me to believe she’s not treated with the respect that her own band members should have for her. If they don’t, why should I respect her? A pat on the head is way different than say a firm hand on her shoulder lightly squeezing in camaraderie.

Although her nausea was dissipating, her nerves were still stretched tighter than the strings on the guitars lined up on stands in rows next to the amps. She hoped the swarm of butterflies still in residence in her stomach might take notice of her happy expression, and leave, thinking everything was alright. In an effort to smoke them out, she took another hit off the joint, and watched Zach rake his white-blonde hair back from his face with one hand before donning a baseball cap. Katie raised her brows in surprise. She’d never pegged Zach as a Chicago Cubs fan; she was willing to wager he didn’t even know what baseball was. Too, the bill of the cap threw his face into shadow, obscuring the main reason most females bothered to come to a Whistlepig concert. “The bill on that thing’s gonna drive you crazy, Zach.” Katie gestured at his headgear with the glowing end of the joint. “Where the hell did you get it, anyway?”

I love the first sentence in this paragraph. The butterfly one not so much. Butterflies in the stomach have been used before and you’ve got a lot of comparisons in this scene. Besides, can she see the happy expression on her own face? Does she have a happy face? The good weed work that fast to take her to a happy place? Then why her nerves still stretched? The weed doesn’t seem to have relaxed her yet. So the happy face seems a stretch and even if she has one, a false expression.

Suggest a paragraph break after she raises her brows in surprise cause it’s two different ideas in there and each deserve their own paragraph. I like how she sees Zach now, and how we get to see him as she does. The only thing is that reference to the bill is repetitious.

“Dunno.” Zach shrugged, the black satin vest he wore tightening over his torso. “One of the girls gave it to me.” He turned the cap around backward, so the bill jutted over the back of his neck, leaving the strong lines of his face and his striking blue eyes revealed. “Better?”

One of the girls? Not some chick? Geez Zack. That’s awful polite of you. *G*

“All kinds of better,” Katie assured him. “If I wasn’t taken, I’d throw you down to the floor right now and molest you in front of everybody.” The pot seemed to be working; it was loosening up her tongue, at any rate. She loved Zach, but she didn’t, you know, love him.

Uh oh! You have Katie assuring him when her words say that exact thing. I’d suggest cutting that and putting in an action if you want to break up her dialogue. A long slow perusal. Touching his hair. Hell, even readjusting that cap to show off his perfect features. (I have to say, that I have a very clear picture of him and know EXACTLY who he is ;-) ). Something to show she’s loosened up instead of being told her tongue had. And why she so quick to say you know she loved him but didn’t love him? Is that important now? Wouldn’t that come out in the story, and be assumed to be that way cause she hasn’t jumped his bones in front of everybody?

Zach threw back his head and laughed. “Right, love. All I need is your old man on my ass.” Well-defined muscles in his upper arms flexed as he reached back to gather his waist-length hair into a ponytail. “He’s got more than enough clout to have me sent back to playing cover songs in pubs, you know?”

Okay, I think I know where you’re going with this, but I don’t think it works here cause we don’t know who her old man is. And if I stretch this, I could interpret that Zach behaves himself because of his notions that this mysterious old man could have an influence on what he does. So Zach just lost his bad boy status.

That wasn’t going to happen. The undisputed leader of Whistlepig, Zach was the reason the band’s album had rocketed up the charts the way it had. It had been Katie’s name that had gotten them the recording contract; it was Zach Harris that made them successful. Well, Zach along with Shadowed Knight. It didn’t hurt to have one of the world’s biggest rock bands lauding a new act to everyone they met, and Shadowed Knight had pushed Whistlepig to the music press like proud parents showing off a new baby. And Whistlepig had behaved just like a growing child – minding its parents, following the rules, and then, upon reaching adolescence, turning and biting the hand that fed it.

That’s the way Katie felt about it, at any rate. The fact that her band’s first album had just reached the number three spot on Billboard's Hot 100 was a case in point. Shadowed Knight's album was at number two, and Whistlepig was not just knocking at their back door; sales indicated they were hammering it down. Success was wonderful, yes, but Katie didn’t want it at the expense of people she loved.

Okay. These two paragraphs are very telling. And I must say I don’t really like how Whistlepig is portrayed. So the only reason Whistlepig is successful is because of Shadowed Knight? And then as you said, reached adolescents and turned and bit the hand that fed it. This makes me think that these guys are kids playing at being grownup. This downplays what they are. And how good they are as a band. So are you starting me off with a second rate band? You’re highlighting a negative aspect. Am I suppost to question the integrity of this band and question their motivation though out the book?

The noise level from the audience rose as the lights on the stage went out, and Katie felt the sting of nervous sweat break out along her hair line. This was the part she hated most. Once they hit the stage, the titanic roar of music from the amps would drown out the noise from the crowd, and the bright lights would obscure them from her view. She’d forget there were thousands of pairs of eyes on her; but with their cheers filling her ears, she was all too aware she was mere moments away from having to walk out there in front of them.

“Oh, Katieee!” a voice crooned in her ear. “They want you, Katieeee.” The mingled scents of Chanel Number Five and Beefeater Gin enveloped Katie as Whistlepig’s keyboard player, Angela Brightwell, hugged her from behind. “They love you, baby!”

“You’re not helping, Ang.” With a stern glance at Angela, Zach took Katie’s arm and pulled her away from the other girl’s grip. “It’s just a soundtrack, love. Remember? Just background noise. We can do this.”

Again, you’re highlighting her insecurities.

“Right,” Katie croaked. “Just background noise.” The tight beam of a flashlight held by a member of the road crew appeared on the ground in front of them, and Katie allowed Zach to pull her along in its wake.

How do you croak when you speak? If you could actually do that wouldn’t it sound like a frog and not the word right? I’d suggest you cut that croak and make her dialogue speak for itself. Use what’s available to put us right there.

Gathered just off-stage, the six members of Whistlepig huddled together, drawing strength from each other, and, for everyone except Katie, from the energy of the enthusiastic crowd. The cheers and screams of anticipation threatened to take off the roof of the college auditorium, and Katie felt the power from it flowing into her friends, charging them with energy. That same power was constructing a bubble around Katie, a barrier that would keep her isolated from anything not on the stage. Calm inside her protective shell, Katie stepped back as the band’s traditional group hug ended, and followed the road crew onto the portable platform, the glow from their flashlights weaving and bobbing like fireflies in the darkness.

Fireflies in the darkness? Not the glare of a joint in the haze? Fireflies make me think of girly things. Or romance. I don’t want Zack to be involved with that. And those beams from the flashlight are repetitious.

The band performed a quick tune-up, and the audience sent up a cheer at hearing the swift chops from the guitars and bass, and the monster thump of Sam’s bass drum. Some wise-ass yelled, “Play Free Bird!”, and the crowd responded with jeers and catcalls.

“Fuck that,” Zach muttered. The vast P.A. system picked up his comment, and sent it soaring through the auditorium like the mighty voice of Thor, the resulting roar from the audience the thunder of his hammer.

Now this I like! And hey. If you took out the muttered, his words still have, or would have more impact.

Hmmmm…the like the mighty voice of Thor takes something away From Zach for me. I like the comparison of the audience’s roar the thunder of his hammer though.

In the nick of time, Katie got her hand over her mic before her laughter burst free. She didn’t know who was supposed to introduce the band, but it was too late for them now. The throng of people in the room was too keyed up to brook any more delay; she could feel their impatience, even through her bubble. Removing her mic from its stand, she put it to her lips. “Good evening. We’re from London, and our name is Whistlepig. Let’s rock ‘n roll!”

Nice way to ditch the student who was introducing them the first time, but for me, this is contradictory. She hates to perform, or at least that’s my impression, yet she seems so at ease here. Almost laughing. Introducing them. I have to mention that when I read the good evening, I kind of did the old stutter, thinking it sounded out of place, asking myself if she’d really say that, and so it did affect the flow a bit.

I am wondering why Zach didn’t speak here and introduce them himself. Seems like it would be a natural continuation. *shrug*

Clear and sharp, Sam’s drumsticks clicked together four times, counting off the beat. The quiet, leashed-in ferocity of Kenny’s rhythm guitar cut through the rumble of the crowd, building the anticipation to an unbearable pitch before the assault of electric guitars and thundering bass drum screamed through the speakers. The stage lights blazed to life, giving off so much heat it felt like someone had left the door to hell standing wide open. Already sweating under her black blouse like she’d run a marathon, Katie let the music fill her, the raw power of it pulsing through her body; the beat, the melody, and the words that begged to be sung.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you
Not a soul could ever take your place…”

A picture formed in Katie’s mind, the same picture that always appeared when she sang. She smiled back at the face she saw, and sang her heart out to him.

Okay, this has been bothering me. I’m assuming Jay’s face is the face she saw and whom she is singing to. But we don’t know that. So far, all we’ve seen of him is a vague reference to an old man, and even then the link between the old man and the man she’s singing to isn’t there. Technically, this could be two different people.

“I’ve learned to love with some detachment,
But everywhere I look I see your face…”

Without Katie’s being aware of it, every male in the audience strained forward, each of them wanting to believe that smile was for him, hoping like hell the look of naughty pleasure on her face came from his being present to hear her sing. None of them had the faintest clue she didn’t even know they were there. She sang for one man, and one man only; and he’d never seen her perform. Katie let her voice soar free as the band crashed into the chorus.

If Katie isn’t aware of it, then neither should we be. We should be in the moment with her, not getting a glimpse of the guys in the audience. And we definitely shouldn’t be seeing a naughty look of pleasure on her face. You’re taking away from her moment. Give us her emotion instead of telling us about it. She should be feeling those vocals. Moving in motion to those emotions those lyrics bring forth. The beat of the music should become one with her heart beat. The heat of the lights should become the warmth of a body. The screams of the crowd should fade into the background. The lights should dim behind her vision as she closes her eyes and becomes one with the song and the man behind the words. Make sense?

“I haven’t learned to live without you,
But my smile has learned never to betray…”

“There’s not a day goes by that you don’t cross my mind,” testified Zach, Kenny and Angela on backup vocals.

As Katie sang to her absent lover, part of her mind was on the setlist, and how much longer the show would last. An hour and a half – that’s what she had to get through. An hour and a half of baking hot lights, screaming guitars, and drums that pounded through her body. An hour and a half until she could shed this fucking stupid rock goddess thing, and pretend it was all a bad dream.

You’re killing me here. What’s this? She’s singing to her lover, and yet she’s distracted? Poor Jay. This shows me that she’s not really in that bubble as much as she believes she is. She’s thinking other things, and prolly the most disturbing for me is that she doesn’t seem to even want to be there.

Okay.

No feelings spared. We still good on that?

I’ve gone through and highlighted my thoughts as a reader. Katie comes across as weak here. I got no feeling of the strength of character it took for her to face her fears and go on stage despite her anxiety. Some of your comparisons seem off to me and by the time I reached the end I was thinking oh, look another comparison. Those fireflies took me out of the scene for a moment. Just some things to keep in mind. But remember I’m a greedy reader, and by doing a line by line like I did, I pick up on more stuff than just reading it through once.

Now as someone who agonized over the opening scenes in my own stuff, I have some other concerns.

First, I don’t understand why you want to start here. There doesn’t seem to be anything special about this venue. It’s just another gig. Nothing really happens that makes me question why you’d want to start here and then go back in the past and make me read years of history to get back to this point. The climax of sorts is missing. The elements that would make me question if my perception of reality was perhaps not quite right is absent. There’s really no hook. No critical action. No emotional tie to Katie from reading this. And those are all things that would keep me reading.

I remember Katie’s arrival in London quite well. She’s carrying her guitar. It’s raining and she’s wearing boots that have a fringe and that have become soaked through. She enters the pub, hangs her coat up, grabs a pack of smokes and sees a cool cat, so she saunters over to the bar and orders a cup of tea to warm up. We’re part of the scene, we can visualize what the other customers are wearing, the funky psychedelic colors, the haze of smoke. What else? Oh yeah, that hunk she sat beside is Adam and he invites her to stay with him and while walking to his place we get to see the sights as Katie’s does. Add to that the horror (the mother thing) and the excitement (the reckless urge and the remembrance of what it’s like to be young thing) I felt when she just leaves with him, and you have a reason for me to keep reading. That scene was brilliant. I think it outshadows this. Sorry.

So I guess what I’d need to understand is what this is trying to convey? Why start in 1975? What’s special about this scene? What did I miss?

Second and prolly just my problem but it does affect how I perceive things. But… what about Jay? There was no direct mention of him at all, so that implies to me that he’s a minor character, when I know he’s so much more than that. And okay, I can see how Jay making an appearance, or even being mentioned, would detract from the story and affect the whole Adam and Jay dilemma Katie has to deal with (if that still is the case) but come on. There was just a hint of an old man, whom Katie didn’t have any reaction to when he was mentioned, and then there was the lover she was singing to that wasn’t vivid enough to hold her attention through the whole song. Am I wrong in thinking the theme of this book relates to the relationship between Katie and Jay? If I’m assuming correctly, what does this scene imply? That he’s not worth mentioning? That Katie’s band and her role in it, isn’t important to him (we don’t know that her old man is the driving force behind Shadowed Knight) because he’s never watched her perform. If I’m wrong I’m just an ass. But just to go off on a tangent for a sec. If Zach had said something alone the lines of right love, and you’d want me after having your old man kinda comment, instead of his right love all I need is your old man on my ass, at least I’d have the suspicion that her old man was special to her, instead of assuming her old man was a possessive male who doesn’t practice what he preaches. And Zach wouldn’t look like a chump either. Because you have to know that I’m partial to the physical aspect of Zach. And yes. I’m shallow. *G*

I guess what it comes down to is the bottom line. And what I ask myself, both when I read and when I work on my own stuff, is what is the point in this scene. Here I just don’t get it. And I think that’s part of the problem. You said yourself that it’s causing you fits. So you are aware something isn’t right. I think it’s with the purpose of the scene. I'm asking myself why you're so set on the first chapter starting in 1975. To be clear, I have nothing against the concept. I think it’s a great way to open. To introduce the characters and story with something monumental that the reader can work toward. You just need to get that concept/idea across as soon as possible because if you want to keep the attention of the person reading your query you’d had better catch and keep their interest in these first paragraphs. Definitely by the first page.

The beginning truly is the most important part and it does set the tone for the rest, so the time spent on making it just right is one of those challenges you will encounter as a writer. And you’re a good one, so keep plugging away at it until YOU don’t have fits about what you’ve written. You’re the author and only you know what works best for your story.

Hugs

Esther

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[> [> [> [> Re: I always hear Sgt. Schultz saying, "I see nothing!" >>>> -- Page, 18:18:11 04/29/09 Wed

>Thank you mucho for the crit! I should probably answer your last question first: So I guess what I’d need to understand is what this is
>trying to convey? Why start in 1975? What’s special
>about this scene? What did I miss?Here's the scoop: An agent looked over the first chapter, and told me it was "a yawn-fest." She was nice about it (contrary to how that phrase sounds *G*), and told me she liked the writing, and liked the story, but the first chapter didn't hook. She told me that with the access and ease of the internet, agents are getting tons of queries per day, and if the first three to five pages of a manuscript don't hook them, they reject the whole book outright. She said, "Katie ends up a rock star, right? Then begin with that, because it's a whole lot more interesting than some random hippie chick meandering along the sidewalk, likeable as she is." Then she suggested that after I start with the rock star thing, I go back and show how Katie got to that point. Another thing she told me is that a good hook has mystery, and the first chapter needs to plant questions in the reader's mind, questions he or she wants to have answered. Like, "Who is Katie's old man with so much power, and why hasn't he seen her perform?", and "Why does she not want this fabulous life-style?", and "Who the heck is Shadowed Knight? Are they hotter than Zach?" The agent also said I should start with the story already in motion. So, in a nutshell, that's why I've started in Chicago in 1975. It's like a prologue, without being a prologue, because right after this, the action shifts to Notting Hill in 1968, with Katie directing mental curses toward Jimi Hendrix as rain-water ruins her boots. She's about to meet beautiful Adam, and move in with him, giving rise to speculation that he'll end up being the "old man" Zach referred to. (And while I'm free-associating here, I should probably dump the title "Carey On," because it gives away too much. Bugger.) But that's why.
>
>

>
>Excerpt from Carey On (former working title
>The Rain Song)
>©2009 by Juli Morgan. All rights reserved.
>Lyrics to Remembrance Of Things Past by
>Christopher L Webster. ©2009 by Un-Reel Music. All
>rights reserved. Used by permission.
>Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not
>constitute publication.
>
>CHAPTER ONE
>JUST LIKE HAIGHT-ASHBURY, ONLY BETTER
>
>Chicago, 1975
>
>“Oh, God, I’m going to be sick!” Katie pressed her
>hands to her stomach, and turned to flee. The faces of
>the people gathered backstage, bathed in the sickly
>yellow light of the overhead flourescents, blurred
>into a solid mass as her panicked eyes passed across
>them, looking for a way out. A strong arm grabbed her
>around the waist, checking her flight forward, and she
>was hauled back against a warm chest.
>
>For the opening sentence, I don’t think it’s strong
>enough. I mean, without knowing anything about these
>characters, Katie could be just another pregnant woman
>experiencing morning sickness. That she’s backstage,
>doesn’t really indicate any importance at this point
>as we don’t know who she is, except that she’s about
>to toss her cookies. Is the question of whether she
>does or not enough to keep me reading? Prolly not.
>There’s nothing really here to capture my attention.
>I’ve done the vomit thing and it’s not pleasant.
>
>The descriptions aren’t vivid enough, the faces are a
>blurry mass under florescent light (should it be
>spelled fluorescents?) so there is nothing for me to
>grasp onto. Okay, you’ve got the main character here,
>but personally, the first thing I want to read prolly
>isn’t about someone throwing up. Unless…it’s in the
>middle of the action. But I don’t know how you’d
>incorporate that here.

I see what you mean here, and I agree. (And yep, I misspelled fluorescents. Glad you caught that!) I need to make it clear from Katie's observations that they are backstage at a rock concert. Will work on this.
>
>“No, you’re not.” Zach Harris, the lead guitarist for
>Whistlepig, held Katie in a firm grip, preventing her
>escape. Katie struggled against his hold, but it was
>nothing more than a pro forma protest; she knew Zach
>wouldn’t let her go. He was the only member of the
>band she could count on to deal effectively with her
>pre-concert jitters. God knows, she couldn’t do it
>herself. Collapsed against Zach’s chest, Katie
>wondered again why the hell she couldn’t shake her
>debilitating stage fright. It was humiliating to be
>the only member of the band who had a melt-down before
>every show. “Anybody got any weed?” Zach demanded, his
>strong voice overriding the noise of the waiting crowd
>on the other side of the wall of amps. One of the
>groupies, a girl thin to the point of emaciation with
>stringy brown hair, stepped forward and handed Zach a
>tightly rolled joint. “Thanks, love,” he said in
>dismissal, and passed the joint to Katie. “Blaze that
>up, baby; it’ll help.”
>
>This paragraph is too too long. If you want to
>have and keep my attention, it needs to read/flow
>faster than this.
>
>For instance, first sentence – we already know that
>her flight was stopped, so I think prevented her
>escape is redundant and can be cut. And there are way
>too many people in this paragraph. Zach spoke, he
>held Katie. Katie intrudes in his paragraph with her
>struggles, her reflection he was the only one who
>could help, her frustration and humiliation at not
>being able to control her stage fright. The Zack
>speaks, demanding weed, gets some off a groupie, (an
>emaciated one to boot) and then dismisses her to pass
>the joint to Katie. You need to separate this a bit.
>And if Zack knows how a joint will help Katie’s stage
>fright, how come he didn’t have any?
>
>And as judgemental as this makes me, I’m wondering
>about Katie now. Stage fright might be a normal
>thing, but you’re introducing your character and
>exposing one of her greatest weaknesses. It’s not an
>endearing trait, she’s an experienced singer who can’t
>get over the jitters. All fine and dandy, if I had
>gotten to know this as the story progressed and I
>could understand her personality and knew what a
>strong character she was. Here, it’s just an exposure
>of her limitations.

Katie's stage-fright is my attempt to avoid the whole Mary Sue thing. I'm concerned that if I start out with a beautiful rock star who has an old man with a lot of pull in the music industry, striding onto the stage with her band, she'll be too good to be true. I had thought of showing her absolute, complete and utter reluctance to go onstage, as opposed to stage-fright, but I felt it made her look like an ungrateful prima donna. "I don't want to go out there and play to all those people who are making me rich." Know what I mean? To keep her from being a Mary Sue, I feel I need to show that human side of her, and let the reader know she does have limitations. However, I haven't let the reader know this is Whistlepig's first tour, and I should. Katie isn't an experienced singer at this point, and if the reader gets the idea she is, her not being able to deal with her stage-fright doesn't make sense. Working on that. Oh, and Zach? The reason he didn't have the joint on him is because he hasn't any pockets. *G* Tight satin vest, and butter-soft leather pants, neither with a pocket. I need to show you these, right? Will do.
>
>“Says you,” Katie muttered. Nevertheless, she put the
>joint to her lips as an anonymous hand held forth a
>lighter. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she drew the
>harsh smoke deep into her lungs, and held it, letting
>the drug enter her bloodstream. After a moment, she
>released the smoke through her lips in a thin ribbon,
>her sick feeling fading as the gray-white cloud rose
>toward the ceiling. Dizzy, Katie clutched at Zach’s
>arm, still firm around her waist, and laughed. “Wow.
>That’s some good shit.”
>
>Says you she says. So she’s admitted he’s the only
>one who can help yet she’s muttering and sounding
>ungrateful, and then lights it up. Geez, not treating
>Zack very nice. *G* Why wouldn’t she know who gave
>her a light? And why she sound so surprised that it’s
>good stuff? Is she accustomed to second rate stuff or
>by this time would she consider it her due?

Yep, Zach's the only one who can help, but that also means he's the one making her go onstage. So, she's grateful, and pissed off at him at the same time. *G* But she's not surprised the pot is good, just making a comment that it is.
>
>Zach peered at her in the uncertain light, and seemed
>to be reassured she wasn’t going to bolt again. He
>released his hold on her, and patted her on the head,
>as if she were a puppy who’d responded well on
>command.
>
>Now this I don’t understand. His patting her on
>the head leads me to believe she’s not treated with
>the respect that her own band members should have for
>her. If they don’t, why should I respect her? A pat
>on the head is way different than say a firm hand on
>her shoulder lightly squeezing in camaraderie.

Spot on here. I didn't get that until you pointed it out.
>
>Although her nausea was dissipating, her nerves were
>still stretched tighter than the strings on the
>guitars lined up on stands in rows next to the amps.
>She hoped the swarm of butterflies still in residence
>in her stomach might take notice of her happy
>expression, and leave, thinking everything was
>alright. In an effort to smoke them out, she took
>another hit off the joint, and watched Zach rake his
>white-blonde hair back from his face with one hand
>before donning a baseball cap. Katie raised her brows
>in surprise. She’d never pegged Zach as a Chicago Cubs
>fan; she was willing to wager he didn’t even know what
>baseball was. Too, the bill of the cap threw his face
>into shadow, obscuring the main reason most females
>bothered to come to a Whistlepig concert. “The bill on
>that thing’s gonna drive you crazy, Zach.” Katie
>gestured at his headgear with the glowing end of the
>joint. “Where the hell did you get it, anyway?”
>
>I love the first sentence in this paragraph. The
>butterfly one not so much. Butterflies in the stomach
>have been used before and you’ve got a lot of
>comparisons in this scene. Besides, can she see the
>happy expression on her own face? Does she have a
>happy face? The good weed work that fast to take her
>to a happy place? Then why her nerves still
>stretched? The weed doesn’t seem to have relaxed her
>yet. So the happy face seems a stretch and even if
>she has one, a false expression.

Yep, I need to ditch the butterflies. The nerves strung tight are enough.
>
>Suggest a paragraph break after she raises her brows
>in surprise cause it’s two different ideas in there
>and each deserve their own paragraph. I like how she
>sees Zach now, and how we get to see him as she does.
>The only thing is that reference to the bill is
>repetitious.

Yep, I can change this around to show how the cap obscures Zach's face without using "bill" so much.
>
>“Dunno.” Zach shrugged, the black satin vest he wore
>tightening over his torso. “One of the girls gave it
>to me.” He turned the cap around backward, so the bill
>jutted over the back of his neck, leaving the strong
>lines of his face and his striking blue eyes revealed.
>“Better?”
>
>One of the girls? Not some chick? Geez Zack.
>That’s awful polite of you. *G*

*G* Who says rock stars can't be polite? LOL. But you're right; he would be more dismissive of them.
>
>“All kinds of better,” Katie assured him. “If I wasn’t
>taken, I’d throw you down to the floor right now and
>molest you in front of everybody.” The pot seemed to
>be working; it was loosening up her tongue, at any
>rate. She loved Zach, but she didn’t, you know,
>love him.
>
>Uh oh! You have Katie assuring him when her words
>say that exact thing. I’d suggest cutting that and
>putting in an action if you want to break up her
>dialogue. A long slow perusal. Touching his hair.
>Hell, even readjusting that cap to show off his
>perfect features. (I have to say, that I have a very
>clear picture of him and know EXACTLY who he is ;-) ).
> Something to show she’s loosened up instead of being
>told her tongue had. And why she so quick to say you
>know she loved him but didn’t love him? Is
>that important now? Wouldn’t that come out in the
>story, and be assumed to be that way cause she hasn’t
>jumped his bones in front of everybody?

I would so kill to see your Zach! *G* I got my image of him from a music video. Was watching it, they do a full-body shot of this guy, and I sat up, saying, "THAT'S ZACH!" And off the subject of beautiful blonde men with angelic faces, I see what you mean. Will work on showing she's loosened up, instead of telling.
>
>Zach threw back his head and laughed. “Right, love.
>All I need is your old man on my ass.” Well-defined
>muscles in his upper arms flexed as he reached back to
>gather his waist-length hair into a ponytail. “He’s
>got more than enough clout to have me sent back to
>playing cover songs in pubs, you know?”
>
>Okay, I think I know where you’re going with this,
>but I don’t think it works here cause we don’t know
>who her old man is. And if I stretch this, I could
>interpret that Zach behaves himself because of his
>notions that this mysterious old man could have an
>influence on what he does. So Zach just lost his bad
>boy status.

Ah, but we're not supposed to know who Katie's old man is. Just that he has enough power and influence to affect Zach's career. Zach's not going to let any shenanigans with a woman wreck his dream. There are plenty of women out there for him to play with.
>
>That wasn’t going to happen. The undisputed leader of
>Whistlepig, Zach was the reason the band’s album had
>rocketed up the charts the way it had. It had been
>Katie’s name that had gotten them the recording
>contract; it was Zach Harris that made them
>successful. Well, Zach along with Shadowed Knight. It
>didn’t hurt to have one of the world’s biggest rock
>bands lauding a new act to everyone they met, and
>Shadowed Knight had pushed Whistlepig to the music
>press like proud parents showing off a new baby. And
>Whistlepig had behaved just like a growing child –
>minding its parents, following the rules, and then,
>upon reaching adolescence, turning and biting the hand
>that fed it.
>
>That’s the way Katie felt about it, at any rate. The
>fact that her band’s first album had just reached the
>number three spot on Billboard's Hot 100 was a case in
>point. Shadowed Knight's album was at number two, and
>Whistlepig was not just knocking at their back door;
>sales indicated they were hammering it down. Success
>was wonderful, yes, but Katie didn’t want it at the
>expense of people she loved.
>
>Okay. These two paragraphs are very telling. And
>I must say I don’t really like how Whistlepig is
>portrayed. So the only reason Whistlepig is
>successful is because of Shadowed Knight? And then as
>you said, reached adolescents and turned and bit the
>hand that fed it. This makes me think that these guys
>are kids playing at being grownup. This downplays
>what they are. And how good they are as a band. So
>are you starting me off with a second rate band?
>You’re highlighting a negative aspect. Am I suppost
>to question the integrity of this band and question
>their motivation though out the book?

Not a second rate band, but a new one. Yes, their chart position is pretty much due to Shadowed Knight. They've only released one album, and it's already at number three. That didn't happen often then, if at all. A young band, full of unknowns, coming out of London and becoming so successful in such a short time? They were competing against Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, The Eagles, Heart. Even the Beatles struggled for years before they hit in the States. So their record sales are thanks to SK getting their name out. The packed concert halls, though, are because the people who bought the album liked it. Now, they're not ungrateful. It's the way Katie saw it. She doesn't want her album knocking SK's off the charts. Hence that second paragraph. As the story progresses, we'll come to know that her first allegience is to Jay, not Whistlepig. Plus, it's a bit of foreshadowing what's to come with these dueling supergroups.
>
>The noise level from the audience rose as the lights
>on the stage went out, and Katie felt the sting of
>nervous sweat break out along her hair line. This was
>the part she hated most. Once they hit the stage, the
>titanic roar of music from the amps would drown out
>the noise from the crowd, and the bright lights would
>obscure them from her view. She’d forget there were
>thousands of pairs of eyes on her; but with their
>cheers filling her ears, she was all too aware she was
>mere moments away from having to walk out there in
>front of them.
>
>“Oh, Katieee!” a voice crooned in her ear. “They want
>you, Katieeee.” The mingled scents of Chanel Number
>Five and Beefeater Gin enveloped Katie as Whistlepig’s
>keyboard player, Angela Brightwell, hugged her from
>behind. “They love you, baby!”
>
>“You’re not helping, Ang.” With a stern glance at
>Angela, Zach took Katie’s arm and pulled her away from
>the other girl’s grip. “It’s just a soundtrack, love.
>Remember? Just background noise. We can do this.”
>
>Again, you’re highlighting her insecurities.
>
>“Right,” Katie croaked. “Just background noise.” The
>tight beam of a flashlight held by a member of the
>road crew appeared on the ground in front of them, and
>Katie allowed Zach to pull her along in its wake.
>
>How do you croak when you speak? If you could
>actually do that wouldn’t it sound like a frog and not
>the word right? I’d suggest you cut that croak and
>make her dialogue speak for itself. Use what’s
>available to put us right there.
>
>Gathered just off-stage, the six members of Whistlepig
>huddled together, drawing strength from each other,
>and, for everyone except Katie, from the energy of the
>enthusiastic crowd. The cheers and screams of
>anticipation threatened to take off the roof of the
>college auditorium, and Katie felt the power from it
>flowing into her friends, charging them with energy.
>That same power was constructing a bubble around
>Katie, a barrier that would keep her isolated from
>anything not on the stage. Calm inside her protective
>shell, Katie stepped back as the band’s traditional
>group hug ended, and followed the road crew onto the
>portable platform, the glow from their flashlights
>weaving and bobbing like fireflies in the darkness.
>
>Fireflies in the darkness? Not the glare of a
>joint in the haze? Fireflies make me think of girly
>things. Or romance. I don’t want Zack to be involved
>with that. And those beams from the flashlight are
>repetitious.

But we're in Katie's POV, not Zach's. But I do need to drop the first flashlight backstage. They wouldn't need it there.
>
>The band performed a quick tune-up, and the audience
>sent up a cheer at hearing the swift chops from the
>guitars and bass, and the monster thump of Sam’s bass
>drum. Some wise-ass yelled, “Play Free Bird!”, and the
>crowd responded with jeers and catcalls.
>
>“Fuck that,” Zach muttered. The vast P.A. system
>picked up his comment, and sent it soaring through the
>auditorium like the mighty voice of Thor, the
>resulting roar from the audience the thunder of his
>hammer.
>
>Now this I like! And hey. If you took out the
>muttered, his words still have, or would have more
>impact.
>
>Hmmmm…the like the mighty voice of Thor takes
>something away From Zach for me. I like the
>comparison of the audience’s roar the thunder of his
>hammer though.
>
>In the nick of time, Katie got her hand over her mic
>before her laughter burst free. She didn’t know who
>was supposed to introduce the band, but it was too
>late for them now. The throng of people in the room
>was too keyed up to brook any more delay; she could
>feel their impatience, even through her bubble.
>Removing her mic from its stand, she put it to her
>lips. “Good evening. We’re from London, and our name
>is Whistlepig. Let’s rock ‘n roll!”
>
>Nice way to ditch the student who was introducing
>them the first time, but for me, this is
>contradictory. She hates to perform, or at least
>that’s my impression, yet she seems so at ease here.
>Almost laughing. Introducing them. I have to mention
>that when I read the good evening, I kind of did the
>old stutter, thinking it sounded out of place, asking
>myself if she’d really say that, and so it did affect
>the flow a bit.
>
>I am wondering why Zach didn’t speak here and
>introduce them himself. Seems like it would be a
>natural continuation. *shrug*

You're right, Zach would be the one to introduce them. Will change this posthaste. I can't imagine why I had Katie doing it in the first place. The "good evening" had become a pretty standard greeting for British bands at that time, thanks to Robert Plant and Mick Jagger, who both said it at every show.
>
>Clear and sharp, Sam’s drumsticks clicked together
>four times, counting off the beat. The quiet,
>leashed-in ferocity of Kenny’s rhythm guitar cut
>through the rumble of the crowd, building the
>anticipation to an unbearable pitch before the assault
>of electric guitars and thundering bass drum screamed
>through the speakers. The stage lights blazed to life,
>giving off so much heat it felt like someone had left
>the door to hell standing wide open. Already sweating
>under her black blouse like she’d run a marathon,
>Katie let the music fill her, the raw power of it
>pulsing through her body; the beat, the melody, and
>the words that begged to be sung.
>
>“I wasn’t lying when I told you
>Not a soul could ever take your place…”
>
>A picture formed in Katie’s mind, the same picture
>that always appeared when she sang. She smiled back at
>the face she saw, and sang her heart out to him.
>
>Okay, this has been bothering me. I’m assuming
>Jay’s face is the face she saw and whom she is singing
>to. But we don’t know that. So far, all we’ve seen
>of him is a vague reference to an old man, and even
>then the link between the old man and the man she’s
>singing to isn’t there. Technically, this could be
>two different people.

Something else I didn't catch. Yes, I need to make it clear they're the same man.
>
>“I’ve learned to love with some detachment,
>But everywhere I look I see your face…”
>
>Without Katie’s being aware of it, every male in the
>audience strained forward, each of them wanting to
>believe that smile was for him, hoping like hell the
>look of naughty pleasure on her face came from his
>being present to hear her sing. None of them had the
>faintest clue she didn’t even know they were there.
>She sang for one man, and one man only; and he’d never
>seen her perform. Katie let her voice soar free as the
>band crashed into the chorus.
>
>If Katie isn’t aware of it, then neither should we
>be. We should be in the moment with her, not getting
>a glimpse of the guys in the audience. And we
>definitely shouldn’t be seeing a naughty look of
>pleasure on her face. You’re taking away from her
>moment. Give us her emotion instead of telling us
>about it. She should be feeling those vocals. Moving
>in motion to those emotions those lyrics bring forth.
>The beat of the music should become one with her heart
>beat. The heat of the lights should become the warmth
>of a body. The screams of the crowd should fade into
>the background. The lights should dim behind her
>vision as she closes her eyes and becomes one with the
>song and the man behind the words. Make sense?

Makes perfect sense. Will work on this.
>
>“I haven’t learned to live without you,
>But my smile has learned never to betray…”
>
>“There’s not a day goes by that you don’t cross my
>mind,” testified Zach, Kenny and Angela on backup
>vocals.
>
>As Katie sang to her absent lover, part of her mind
>was on the setlist, and how much longer the show would
>last. An hour and a half – that’s what she had to get
>through. An hour and a half of baking hot lights,
>screaming guitars, and drums that pounded through her
>body. An hour and a half until she could shed this
>fucking stupid rock goddess thing, and pretend it was
>all a bad dream.
>
>You’re killing me here. What’s this? She’s
>singing to her lover, and yet she’s distracted? Poor
>Jay. This shows me that she’s not really in that
>bubble as much as she believes she is. She’s thinking
>other things, and prolly the most disturbing for me is
>that she doesn’t seem to even want to be there.
>
She doesn't want to be there. She just wants to get off that stage and call her lover on the phone. Whoa. I should put that in there.

>Okay.
>
>No feelings spared. We still good on that?

Still good!
>

>I’ve gone through and highlighted my thoughts as a
>reader. Katie comes across as weak here. I got no
>feeling of the strength of character it took for her
>to face her fears and go on stage despite her anxiety.
> Some of your comparisons seem off to me and by the
>time I reached the end I was thinking oh, look another
>comparison. Those fireflies took me out of the scene
>for a moment. Just some things to keep in mind. But
>remember I’m a greedy reader, and by doing a line by
>line like I did, I pick up on more stuff than just
>reading it through once.
>
>Now as someone who agonized over the opening scenes in
>my own stuff, I have some other concerns.
>
>First, I don’t understand why you want to start here.
>There doesn’t seem to be anything special about this
>venue. It’s just another gig. Nothing really happens
>that makes me question why you’d want to start here
>and then go back in the past and make me read years of
>history to get back to this point. The climax of
>sorts is missing. The elements that would make me
>question if my perception of reality was perhaps not
>quite right is absent. There’s really no hook. No
>critical action. No emotional tie to Katie from
>reading this. And those are all things that would
>keep me reading.
>
>I remember Katie’s arrival in London quite well.
>She’s carrying her guitar. It’s raining and she’s
>wearing boots that have a fringe and that have become
>soaked through. She enters the pub, hangs her coat
>up, grabs a pack of smokes and sees a cool cat, so she
>saunters over to the bar and orders a cup of tea to
>warm up. We’re part of the scene, we can visualize
>what the other customers are wearing, the funky
>psychedelic colors, the haze of smoke. What else? Oh
>yeah, that hunk she sat beside is Adam and he invites
>her to stay with him and while walking to his place we
>get to see the sights as Katie’s does. Add to that
>the horror (the mother thing) and the excitement (the
>reckless urge and the remembrance of what it’s like to
>be young thing) I felt when she just leaves with him,
>and you have a reason for me to keep reading. That
>scene was brilliant. I think it outshadows this.
>Sorry.
>
>So I guess what I’d need to understand is what this is
>trying to convey? Why start in 1975? What’s special
>about this scene? What did I miss?
>
>Second and prolly just my problem but it does affect
>how I perceive things. But… what about Jay? There
>was no direct mention of him at all, so that implies
>to me that he’s a minor character, when I know he’s so
>much more than that. And okay, I can see how Jay
>making an appearance, or even being mentioned, would
>detract from the story and affect the whole Adam and
>Jay dilemma Katie has to deal with (if that still is
>the case) but come on. There was just a hint of an
>old man, whom Katie didn’t have any reaction to when
>he was mentioned, and then there was the lover she was
>singing to that wasn’t vivid enough to hold her
>attention through the whole song. Am I wrong in
>thinking the theme of this book relates to the
>relationship between Katie and Jay? If I’m assuming
>correctly, what does this scene imply? That he’s not
>worth mentioning? That Katie’s band and her role in
>it, isn’t important to him (we don’t know that her old
>man is the driving force behind Shadowed Knight)
>because he’s never watched her perform. If I’m wrong
>I’m just an ass. But just to go off on a tangent for
>a sec. If Zach had said something alone the lines of
>right love, and you’d want me after having your old
>man kinda comment, instead of his right love all I
>need is your old man on my ass, at least I’d have the
>suspicion that her old man was special to her, instead
>of assuming her old man was a possessive male who
>doesn’t practice what he preaches. And Zach wouldn’t
>look like a chump either. Because you have to know
>that I’m partial to the physical aspect of Zach. And
>yes. I’m shallow. *G*
>
>I guess what it comes down to is the bottom line. And
>what I ask myself, both when I read and when I work on
>my own stuff, is what is the point in this scene.
>Here I just don’t get it. And I think that’s part of
>the problem. You said yourself that it’s causing you
>fits. So you are aware something isn’t right. I
>think it’s with the purpose of the scene. I'm asking
>myself why you're so set on the first chapter starting
>in 1975. To be clear, I have nothing against the
>concept. I think it’s a great way to open. To
>introduce the characters and story with something
>monumental that the reader can work toward. You just
>need to get that concept/idea across as soon as
>possible because if you want to keep the attention of
>the person reading your query you’d had better catch
>and keep their interest in these first paragraphs.
>Definitely by the first page.
>
>The beginning truly is the most important part and it
>does set the tone for the rest, so the time spent on
>making it just right is one of those challenges you
>will encounter as a writer. And you’re a good one, so
>keep plugging away at it until YOU don’t have fits
>about what you’ve written. You’re the author and only
>you know what works best for your story.
>
>Hugs
>
>Esther

I found something written by Robert Gregory Browne that kind of sums it up. He said, "The point is, of course, that by not telling them everything up front, you create something VERY important in your reader: The desire to learn more. And once they have that desire, they will not stop until they satisfy it. If you spell it all out for them right up front, however, what have you created? For me, you’ve created a reader who’s about to toss the book."

I know it drove you crazy, but you asked the questions I want a reader to ask. Who is her old man? If he's so important, why hasn't he seen her perform? Why doesn't she want to be there? What's so special about Chicago? Questions that will hopefully keep them reading to find the answers. And, as I mentioned, there's some foreshadowing here, and when certain things come out later, I'm hoping the reader will sit up and say, "Aha!"

Thank you so much for your brilliant critique! It did exactly what a crit is supposed to do -- make me really think about this piece. I appreciate it so very much!

Hugs back,
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[> [> [> [> [> Okay, found some time to hopefully clarify myself, so please, step this way>>> -- Esther, 11:32:21 05/04/09 Mon

Thank you mucho for the crit! I should probably answer your last question first: So I guess what I’d need to understand is what this is trying to convey? Why start in 1975? What’s special about this scene? What did I miss? Here's the scoop: An agent looked over the first chapter, and told me it was "a yawn-fest." She was nice about it (contrary to how that phrase sounds *G*), and told me she liked the writing, and liked the story, but the first chapter didn't hook. She told me that with the access and ease of the internet, agents are getting tons of queries per day, and if the first three to five pages of a manuscript don't hook them, they reject the whole book outright. She said, "Katie ends up a rock star, right? Then begin with that, because it's a whole lot more interesting than some random hippie chick meandering along the sidewalk, likeable as she is." Then she suggested that after I start with the rock star thing, I go back and show how Katie got to that point. Another thing she told me is that a good hook has mystery, and the first chapter needs to plant questions in the reader's mind, questions he or she wants to have answered. Like, "Who is Katie's old man with so much power, and why hasn't he seen her perform?", and "Why does she not want this fabulous life-style?", and "Who the heck is Shadowed Knight? Are they hotter than Zach?" The agent also said I should start with the story already in motion. So, in a nutshell, that's why I've started in Chicago in 1975. It's like a prologue, without being a prologue, because right after this, the action shifts to Notting Hill in 1968, with Katie directing mental curses toward Jimi Hendrix as rain-water ruins her boots. She's about to meet beautiful Adam, and move in with him, giving rise to speculation that he'll end up being the "old man" Zach referred to. (And while I'm free-associating here, I should probably dump the title "Carey On," because it gives away too much. Bugger.) But that's why.


Okay, lots to cover here. *G* I’m so obviously not as talented or as knowledgeable as an agent about these things, but what I am is a reader. And not a very clear one, so let me try again. And my apologies if I’m coming across as harsh, but I’m thinking you know me well enough by now…

I think starting in 1975 is a cool concept, and I love, love, love, to meander back into time. (If you don’t believe me, remember that all three of my WIP’s have a time concept to them.) But something isn’t working for me in this scene.

I get the starting with the rock star thing. But Katie isn’t coming across as a rock star. She’s coming across as a (and I hate to say it) a spoiled girl who’d rather be anywhere else than where she is. I don’t like my perception of her. What motivates her to want to be somewhere else (meeting up with Shadowed Knight, calling her lover, getting some sleep cause she’s exhausted after a long tour) isn’t as important as the fact that as one of her fans I’m not into her. Her attention isn’t on what she’s doing. She’s distracted and I’m feeling it. As a musician, I feel she should be passionate about her craft. To be a professional focused on her performance. I don’t get any inkling of that until she’s singing, and then with the version you posted it’s because I’m seeing her from the eyes of her male fans.

It’s kinda like starting out with a murder investigation, and the guy in charge isn’t interested, and doesn’t notice the trail of bloody footprints leading right to the perpetrator, and yet he’s the one I’m suppost to believe is capable both professionally and personally throughout the book and that in the end he’ll save the day. His character is tarnished from the beginning and he’ll have to work twice as hard to convince me he’s all that he’s meant to be. If I read the book at all.

By starting out with her being a rock star, I have expectations. And she’s not meeting them. I’m seeing her weaknesses. She’s debilitated from fear of performance. She doesn’t want to be there. I think this should come out later, not as the first impression we have of her.

So all those other questions you want me to ask…I’m not. Like, "Who is Katie's old man with so much power, and why hasn't he seen her perform?", and "Why does she not want this fabulous life-style?", and "Who the heck is Shadowed Knight? Are they hotter than Zach?" Katie’s old man didn’t come across for me as a man of power. I got that he was possessive, maybe a bit jealous and vindictive. It wasn’t clear that he was the driving force behind SK, and so for all I know he could have been an agent/manager who would truly have the authority to make things harsh for Zach. I didn’t ask why her old man didn’t ever see her perform, I assumed that he just never bothered. Fabulous life-style? I haven’t seen any of it yet to question it. All I have to work on is an emaciated chick with stringy hair giving Zack weed. My image was of a drugged up groupie that didn’t take care of herself. (And a slight aside, but I’d expect these female groupies to be hot. Not thin and unkept looking, their only saving grace is the good weed they have at the ready. Only the cream of the crop would be backstage right? I mean Zack can have any chick he wanted, so why would he do a skank?) Who is Shadowed Knight? Honestly? The question didn’t cross my mind. By downplaying Whistlepig, for me, Shadowed Knight lost their appeal and their role isn’t as important as maybe it would be. What I mean is that by being the model Whistlepig was influenced by, I’m assuming SK would be the same and so they too lost their status as a band of power and significance. So, yes, I missed the mystery of those questions. I don’t yet visualize Katie as a strong character I’d want to get to know better. You’ve lost my attention and nothing really critical is happening that would make me want to read more…

Now the following scene, the ruined boots and hazy pub? Yes I liked that. Perhaps not the ideal place to start a book, for the reasons you listed, but it was a good scene. It held my attention and made me want to read more. Every good scene should do that. But the beginning of the book is crucial. And as much as I like what I’ve read in bits and pieces here on the lit, if I was to go to a bookstore, open the cover and read the first page, I’d be slipping it back on the shelves.



Excerpt from Carey On (former working title The Rain Song)
©2009 by Juli Morgan. All rights reserved.
Lyrics to Remembrance Of Things Past by Christopher L Webster. ©2009 by Un-Reel Music. All
rights reserved. Used by permission.
Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not constitute publication.

>>CHAPTER ONE
>>JUST LIKE HAIGHT-ASHBURY, ONLY BETTER
>>
>>Chicago, 1975
>>
>>
“No, you’re not.” Zach Harris, the lead guitarist for Whistlepig, held Katie in a firm grip, preventing her escape. Katie struggled against his hold, but it was nothing more than a pro forma protest; she knew Zach wouldn’t let her go. He was the only member of the band she could count on to deal effectively with her pre-concert jitters. God knows, she couldn’t do it herself. Collapsed against Zach’s chest, Katie wondered again why the hell she couldn’t shake her debilitating stage fright. It was humiliating to be the only member of the band who had a melt-down before every show. “Anybody got any weed?” Zach demanded, his strong voice overriding the noise of the waiting crowd on the other side of the wall of amps. One of the groupies, a girl thin to the point of emaciation with stringy brown hair, stepped forward and handed Zach a tightly rolled joint. “Thanks, love,” he said in dismissal, and passed the joint to Katie. “Blaze that up, baby; it’ll help.”

This paragraph is too too long. If you want to have and keep my attention, it needs to read/flow faster than this.

For instance, first sentence – we already know that her flight was stopped, so I think prevented her escape is redundant and can be cut. And there are way too many people in this paragraph. Zach spoke, he held Katie. Katie intrudes in his paragraph with her struggles, her reflection he was the only one who could help, her frustration and humiliation at not being able to control her stage fright. The Zack speaks, demanding weed, gets some off a groupie, (an emaciated one to boot) and then dismisses her to pass the joint to Katie. You need to separate this a bit. And if Zack knows how a joint will help Katie’s stage fright, how come he didn’t have any?

And as judgemental as this makes me, I’m wondering about Katie now. Stage fright might be a normal thing, but you’re introducing your character and exposing one of her greatest weaknesses. It’s not an endearing trait, she’s an experienced singer who can’t get over the jitters. All fine and dandy, if I had gotten to know this as the story progressed and I could understand her personality and knew what a strong character she was. Here, it’s just an exposure of her limitations.

Katie's stage-fright is my attempt to avoid the whole Mary Sue thing. I'm concerned that if I start out with a beautiful rock star who has an old man with a lot of pull in the music industry, striding onto the stage with her band, she'll be too good to be true. I had thought of showing her absolute, complete and utter reluctance to go onstage, as opposed to stage-fright, but I felt it made her look like an ungrateful prima donna. "I don't want to go out there and play to all those people who are making me rich." Know what I mean? To keep her from being a Mary Sue, I feel I need to show that human side of her, and let the reader know she does have limitations. However, I haven't let the reader know this is Whistlepig's first tour, and I should. Katie isn't an experienced singer at this point, and if the reader gets the idea she is, her not being able to deal with her stage-fright doesn't make sense. Working on that. Oh, and Zach? The reason he didn't have the joint on him is because he hasn't any pockets. *G* Tight satin vest, and butter-soft leather pants, neither with a pocket. I need to show you these, right? Will do.

Well Geez! You mean we have to worry about Mary Sue in the opening paragraph? Seriously though, my thought is that by trying to avoid making her too good to be true you’re taking away from her. She’s a rock star. Shouldn’t she initially be too good to be true? At least until the second page? Isn’t that why you’re starting in 1975? To play up the glam? The appeal? The idolization by the fans? The fabulous life-style? The hard fought success? The rewards of recognition? And yet you’re taking away from all this and making their strengths mean nothing. By giving Shadowed Knight all the credit for their success right from the beginning their credibility is gone. Does the fact that it’s Whistlepigs first tour matter? That’s part of the history, the story, I want to read about after I wipe the sweat from my brow after singing to my lover under the blinding, hot lights of the stage. What’s wrong with keeping Shadowed Knight out of Katie’s, Zach’s and the other’s moment? Why can’t Katie sing for her lover, and be anxious to be finished with this forum, because its end signifies the opportunity to be with her old man, the lover whom couldn’t be at any of her performances because of his tour schedule with his band, Shadowed Knight, a rival band/their competition. Why not highlight the conflict that way instead of having them be adolescents attempting to play with the big boys? Can’t the competition between W & SK be hinted at at this point without the narrative of how Whistlepig is knocking them off the number whatever spot on the billboards. Why can’t we deduce for ourselves that Whistlepig is successful by a full stadium, the roar of the crowd, the scream of their names as they come on stage? If you put us in the moment, we’ll be there right with her.

I honestly don’t understand the need to expose her stage fright so much that it takes over the scene and is referred to so many times. Especially when so much more is going on. You want to show her human side? Then show her pacing in her dressing room/backstage. Have her be the last one to show up for curtain call – maybe Zach has to go get her. Have Zach ask her point blank if she’s feeling okay. Have him support her as they go on stage with an arm around her waist. Have her feel his eyes on her until she loses herself in the song. Maybe show her hand tremble just the slightest bit as she reaches for the mic. You know these characters. Have her act in accordance to what she feels, let the reader experience it, and see for ourselves the gumption it took for her to perform centre stage. The beginning should highlight a strong strength of character, her passion for music, and not expose a weakness. Hint at it if you must, but don’t let her human side dictate the scene. Does this make any sense?

“All kinds of better,” Katie assured him. “If I wasn’t taken, I’d throw you down to the floor right now and molest you in front of everybody.” The pot seemed to be working; it was loosening up her tongue, at any rate. She loved Zach, but she didn’t, you know, love him.

Uh oh! You have Katie assuring him when her words say that exact thing. I’d suggest cutting that and putting in an action if you want to break up her dialogue. A long slow perusal. Touching his hair. Hell, even readjusting that cap to show off his perfect features. (I have to say, that I have a very clear picture of him and know EXACTLY who he is ;-) ). Something to show she’s loosened up instead of being told her tongue had. And why she so quick to say you know she loved him but didn’t love him? Is that important now? Wouldn’t that come out in the story, and be assumed to be that way cause she hasn’t jumped his bones in front of everybody?

I would so kill to see your Zach! *G* I got my image of him from a music video. Was watching it, they do a full-body shot of this guy, and I sat up, saying, "THAT'S ZACH!" And off the subject of beautiful blonde men with angelic faces, I see what you mean. Will work on showing she's loosened up, instead of telling.

*Sigh* So quickly she forgets…*G* That pic of my fav Chippendale is the image I carry around of what a ‘Rock Star’ should exemplify. Funny thing though. Blonds are definitely not my preference, and yet, that image is what always comes to mind. But I definitely wouldn’t describe his features as angelic. ; -)

Zach threw back his head and laughed. “Right, love. All I need is your old man on my ass.” Well-defined muscles in his upper arms flexed as he reached back to gather his waist-length hair into a ponytail. “He’s got more than enough clout to have me sent back to playing cover songs in pubs, you know?”

Okay, I think I know where you’re going with this, but I don’t think it works here cause we don’t know who her old man is. And if I stretch this, I could interpret that Zach behaves himself because of his notions that this mysterious old man could have an influence on what he does. So Zach just lost his bad boy status.

Ah, but we're not supposed to know who Katie's old man is. Just that he has enough power and influence
to affect Zach's career. Zach's not going to let any shenanigans with a woman wreck his dream. There are
plenty of women out there for him to play with.

Yeah, I get that. But technically an old man could be referring to her father, as well as to her husband/lover or even a manager/agent. With nothing to reference it, it’s an unknown. The part I didn’t like was that Zach would play careful. He’s suppost to be a rock star. And yes, I’d like to see him full of his success instead of playing it safe so the mysterious old man wouldn’t send him back to the nothing existence he had before. If he is good in his own right, he wouldn’t be worried/concerned, right? Why isn’t he defiant with self-righteous ego because he is what he seems to be and fuck those that don’t like it? Why can’t he not be all over Katie cause she’s a respected member of the band, and yes I get that if he needs to stroke that ego, he does have his choice of who goes first. I’m all for the sexual innuendos, but not the I’m not touching you cause you’re old man could take everything away.

That wasn’t going to happen. The undisputed leader of Whistlepig, Zach was the reason the band’s album had rocketed up the charts the way it had. It had been Katie’s name that had gotten them the recording contract; it was Zach Harris that made them successful. Well, Zach along with Shadowed Knight. It didn’t hurt to have one of the world’s biggest rock bands lauding a new act to everyone they met, and Shadowed Knight had pushed Whistlepig to the music press like proud parents showing off a new baby. And Whistlepig had behaved just like a growing child – minding its parents, following the rules, and then, upon reaching adolescence, turning and biting the hand that fed it.

That’s the way Katie felt about it, at any rate. The fact that her band’s first album had just reached the number three spot on Billboard's Hot 100 was a case in point. Shadowed Knight's album was at number two, and Whistlepig was not just knocking at their back door; sales indicated they were hammering it down. Success was wonderful, yes, but Katie didn’t want it at the expense of people she loved.

Okay. These two paragraphs are very telling. And I must say I don’t really like how Whistlepig is portrayed. So the only reason Whistlepig is successful is because of Shadowed Knight? And then as you said, reached adolescents and turned and bit the hand that fed it. This makes me think that these guys are kids playing at being grownup. This downplays what they are. And how good they are as a band. So are you starting me off with a second rate band? You’re highlighting a negative aspect. Am I suppost to question the integrity of this band and question their motivation though out the book?

Not a second rate band, but a new one. Yes, their chart position is pretty much due to Shadowed Knight. They've only released one album, and it's already at number three. That didn't happen often then, if at all. A young band, full of unknowns, coming out of London and becoming so successful in such a short time? They were competing against Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, The Eagles, Heart. Even the Beatles struggled for years before they hit in the States. So their record sales are thanks to SK getting their name out. The packed concert halls, though, are because the people who bought the album liked it. Now, they're not ungrateful. It's the way Katie saw it. She doesn't want her album knocking SK's off the charts. Hence that second paragraph. As the story progresses, we'll come to know that her first allegience is to Jay, not Whistlepig. Plus, it's a bit of foreshadowing what's to come with these duelling supergroups.

All well and good. But I’m wondering the point of including it at this point. The main issue/reason seems to be the foreshadowing. Why can’t two influential bands be rivals without one being responsible for their success? The purpose of this scene is to bring the reader into the action, not provide the backstory/history of why they are where they are, and how long they’ve been there and who’s responsible for what. That is what we’re going to want to read later.

As Katie sang to her absent lover, part of her mind was on the setlist, and how much longer the show would last. An hour and a half – that’s what she had to get through. An hour and a half of baking hot lights, screaming guitars, and drums that pounded through her body. An hour and a half until she could shed this fucking stupid rock goddess thing, and pretend it was all a bad dream.

You’re killing me here. What’s this? She’s singing to her lover, and yet she’s distracted? Poor Jay. This shows me that she’s not really in that bubble as much as she believes she is. She’s thinking other things, and prolly the most disturbing for me is that she doesn’t seem to even want to be there.

She doesn't want to be there. She just wants to get off that stage and call her lover on the phone. Whoa. I should put that in there.

LOL

Okay.

No feelings spared. We still good on that?

Still good!

And how about now??? ; -)


I’ve gone through and highlighted my thoughts as a reader. Katie comes across as weak here. I got no feeling of the strength of character it took for her to face her fears and go on stage despite her anxiety. Some of your comparisons seem off to me and by the time I reached the end I was thinking oh, look another comparison. Those fireflies took me out of the scene for a moment. Just some things to keep in mind. But remember I’m a greedy reader, and by doing a line by line like I did, I pick up on more stuff than just reading it through once.

Now as someone who agonized over the opening scenes in my own stuff, I have some other concerns.

First, I don’t understand why you want to start here. There doesn’t seem to be anything special about this venue. It’s just another gig. Nothing really happens that makes me question why you’d want to start here and then go back in the past and make me read years of history to get back to this point. The climax of sorts is missing. The elements that would make me question if my perception of reality was perhaps not quite right is absent. There’s really no hook. No critical action. No emotional tie to Katie from reading this. And those are all things that would keep me reading.

I remember Katie’s arrival in London quite well. She’s carrying her guitar. It’s raining and she’s wearing boots that have a fringe and that have become soaked through. She enters the pub, hangs her coat up, grabs a pack of smokes and sees a cool cat, so she saunters over to the bar and orders a cup of tea to warm up. We’re part of the scene, we can visualize what the other customers are wearing, the funky psychedelic colors, the haze of smoke. What else? Oh yeah, that hunk she sat beside is Adam and he invites her to stay with him and while walking to his place we get to see the sights as Katie’s does. Add to that the horror (the mother thing) and the excitement (the reckless urge and the remembrance of what it’s like to be young thing) I felt when she just leaves with him, and you have a reason for me to keep reading. That scene was brilliant. I think it outshadows this. Sorry.

So I guess what I’d need to understand is what this is trying to convey? Why start in 1975? What’s special about this scene? What did I miss?

Second and prolly just my problem but it does affect how I perceive things. But… what about Jay? There was no direct mention of him at all, so that implies to me that he’s a minor character, when I know he’s so much more than that. And okay, I can see how Jay making an appearance, or even being mentioned, would detract from the story and affect the whole Adam and Jay dilemma Katie has to deal with (if that still is the case) but come on. There was just a hint of an old man, whom Katie didn’t have any reaction to when he was mentioned, and then there was the lover she was singing to that wasn’t vivid enough to hold her attention through the whole song. Am I wrong in thinking the theme of this book relates to the relationship between Katie and Jay? If I’m assuming correctly, what does this scene imply? That he’s not worth mentioning?

That Katie’s band and her role in it, isn’t important to him (we don’t know that her old man is the driving force behind Shadowed Knight) because he’s never watched her perform. If I’m wrong I’m just an ass. But just to go off on a tangent for a sec. If Zach had said something alone the lines of right love, and you’d want me after having your old man kinda comment, instead of his right love all I need is your old man on my ass, at least I’d have the suspicion that her old man was special to her, instead of assuming her old man was a possessive male who doesn’t practice what he preaches. And Zach wouldn’t look like a chump either. Because you have to know that I’m partial to the physical aspect of Zach. And yes. I’m shallow. *G*

I guess what it comes down to is the bottom line. And what I ask myself, both when I read and when I work on my own stuff, is what is the point in this scene. Here I just don’t get it. And I think that’s part of the problem. You said yourself that it’s causing you fits. So you are aware something isn’t right. I think it’s with the purpose of the scene. I'm asking myself why you're so set on the first chapter starting in 1975. To be clear, I have nothing against the concept. I think it’s a great way to open. To introduce the characters and story with something monumental that the reader can work toward. You just need to get that concept/idea across as soon as possible because if you want to keep the attention of the person reading your query you’d had better catch and keep their interest in these first paragraphs. Definitely by the first page.

The beginning truly is the most important part and it does set the tone for the rest, so the time spent on making it just right is one of those challenges you will encounter as a writer. And you’re a good one, so keep plugging away at it until YOU don’t have fits about what you’ve written. You’re the author and only you know what works best for your story.

Hugs

Esther

I found something written by Robert Gregory Browne that kind of sums it up. He said, "The point is, of course, that by not telling them everything up front, you create something VERY important in your reader:
The desire to learn more. And once they have that desire, they will not stop until they satisfy it. If you spell it all out for them right up front, however, what have you created? For me, you’ve created a reader who’s about to toss the book."

I know it drove you crazy, but you asked the questions I want a reader to ask. Who is her old man? If he's so important, why hasn't he seen her perform? Why doesn't she want to be there? What's so special about Chicago? Questions that will hopefully keep them reading to find the answers. And, as I mentioned, there's some foreshadowing here, and when certain things come out later, I'm hoping the reader will sit up and say, "Aha!"

Thank you so much for your brilliant critique! It did exactly what a crit is supposed to do -- make me really think about this piece. I appreciate it so very much!

Hugs back,
Page

And this first paragraph is exactly my point. Where was the critical element to make me want to read more? Those questions you have here are not enough. IHMO. And the question of why doesn’t she want to be there was more like, if she doesn’t want to be there, why do I have to read about it. And I guess I missed the whole Chicago thing, even though it was in the title.

There needs to be more. Something suspenseful. Something drastic. Something unexpected. Something besides foreshadowing of a couple rival bands, a mysterious old man who has clout in the industry and a lover whom she wants to call after the show is over.

Now I’m assuming this beginning scene’s timeline is approximately in the middle of the book, so that we’ll read up to it, and yet have something that needs to happen to make us want to read to the end. So what is the most climatic point in your story? Does someone Katie is close to OD? Does this mysterious old man that we should know about by the middle end up in the hospital because of a drug overdose? (Thinking about that dream she had with jay hooked up the machine and the phone ringing and waking her up.) Is there an accident? Perhaps on stage? A rush of the fans onstage? A riot perhaps? Does she get some bad news just before she goes on to perform? What pivotal moment changes Katie? Is there one? What about when Katie comes home and Jay is gone and she has to ‘Carey On’ without him? Was she still in the band? What about when her band breaks up? Could this be her last performance? Why would a successful band call it quits? And not to overstep my bounds, but you have so many opportunities here that I know about, and so many more that I don’t, that would work to start it off with a performance emphasizing her rock goddess status. Something needs to trigger a reaction.

Something needs to happen. I need/want to be reading toward something that will be concluded at the end. Otherwise I’m just reading to find out about just an ordinary day in the life of such and such band. Why is this performance different than the all the others they played on this tour? Just because they’re in Chicago and one performance closer to meeting up with Shadowed Knight? While interesting, it’s not enough to make me want to turn the page. I just don’t see what is so important about this scene. I feel like I’m missing something and it has nothing to do with those questions you want me to ask. From a writing perspective, I just don’t get it.

You want to start with a rock star. Start with one. Set the scene. The venue. The sounds. Let me hear the audience chanting the names, while experiencing the pandemonium backstage. Let me see the band through Katie’s eyes. She might not want to be a part of it, but she must be proud of the rest of them. I’m greedy and I need more than Zach in a hat whilst being told he was the reason the band was successful. Let me feel those hopes she has when she sings to her lover. Make it so poignant that I expect him to step onto the stage. Give me something I’ll remember.

And that’s more than I intended to say, but I have a hard time expressing my opinion without the whys of it. So in essence, tighten this up, highlight only what the reader needs to know, and give us something to sink our teeth into and you’ll have a stellar start to a great book. And remember I know nothing, so use what you can and toss the rest.

Hugs

Esther

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