*** Because Blogger was down for two days, I've decided to extend the writing contest until Wednesday, the 18th. Get your first three pages in to authorrachel@gmail.com. Thanks! ***
So far I've seen many first three pages, and it is so interesting to see the different skill levels. I remember being the beginner: using adverbs all the time (...he spoke softly), writing "that" and "as" every other sentence, telling not showing. I've learned a lot, and am still learning. I've read a lot of books on writing, but find that I learn the most from studying the writings of others.
I'm about to share the work of someone I know personally and who is a newbie. She loves to write and is in the process of learning the technical side. Here is her first paragraph (actually I cut it short):
Part 1 - Beginning
Record breaking highs had graced our sun-drenched valley all summer long; the land had started to turn brown, faltering under the intense heat. It was quite transformed since the beginning of the summer. With first harvest, green abounds in every field, leaving every slope, dip, and incline bursting with new growth. Now transformed by the intense ray of the sun, the land seemed altered, thirsty, changed. It had been a summer of change. I had finally blossomed over the summer, curves began to grace my silhouette, and I melted like a Popsicle in a mid-summer heat. I shed my baby fat layers, and was left lean, slender and tanned from a summer outside. My hair had grown long to the middle of my back and the sun had bleached most strands to a platinum highlight. That wasn’t the only thing that had changed; BOYS had changed for me as well. I noticed them, liked them, and wanted them to like me. I had been busy most of that summer. Camps had seemed to fill just about every week, and I had found a boy at every camp that I fell madly in love with. When there wasn’t a camp we squeezed in family vacations and our annual trip to my father’s various properties in different states. However, there was one week I reserved every year, a tradition I suppose, the last week of summer.
As you can see the first paragraph is extremely long. By the end of the three pages we read:
Part 2
Damp air rolled off the water, mixing with the scorch of the evening sun. Everything around me seemed to relax, soaking in the cool air, a reprieve from the lingering haze. Crickets started chirping, the smell of fire filled the trail in front of me. The lake was always a hot spot for camping and late night bonfires. Rounding the bend I spotted the source of the smoke, a group of kids from my high school. Most of them stood by the fire, laughing and eating. Definitely not the crowd I hung out with. Speeding up, I hoped they wouldn’t notice me, I hated running in front of people, especially drunk people. Hearing my name called, I glanced over my shoulder in the direction of the fire. Slamming into whatever was blocking the pathway, I fell hard landing on my back, elbows catching me, my hat rolled off spilling my hair to my shoulders. Whatever I hit, turned toward me,
“What the…” his voice stopped short, groaning I wiped my hands on my pants and glared up, my breath stopped. Jaw falling open I stared.
“Olivia? Is that you?” As if he didn’t recognize me.
I’m the one that should be asking him who he was. Clear blue eyes shone bright against his dark tan skin.
So if you were to pick up this book, which part (1 or 2) would you like to read about? For me, part 2 immediately stood out because of the action and conflict. This is where the "story" begins. Part 1 should be woven into part 2 and spread apart over several pages. And a lot of it can be cut and simplified. For example, Part 2 could read:
Damp air skimmed the lakes surface, mixing with the scorch of the evening sun. It felt good against the heat of my skin as my feet pounded the dirt trail in rhythm with the crickets night song.
Just then, the smell of a campers fire filled the trail in front of me. I slowed slightly, surprised campers were out this time of year. Rounding the bend, I spotted the source--a group of kids from my high school. Most of them stood by the fire, laughing and holding beer cans. Definitely not the crowd I hung out with. I sped up and hoped they wouldn't notice me.
I was almost past when I heard my name called. Instinctively, I glanced over my shoulder, back towards the fire. This was my first mistake, because all of a sudden I slammed into something solid and fell hard on my back. My second mistake was letting my jaw fall open when I saw what had caused me to embarrass myself in front of everyone.
"Olivia? Is that you?" John Doe asked, looking the exact same as I remembered. But taller. With bigger muscles. And... was that stubble on his chin?
I changed the ending slightly. I couldn't help it. I just think it would be great to add more of a voice to Olivia. So writers, what advice would you give to this new writer?