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An opening chapter. Please have a read.

Posted: Jan 17, 08 9:18pm

Hi Kids,

Here's an opening chapter of one of several novels I've been working on for the past few hundred years. There is some formatting in the actual manuscript that I can't re-create here, but y'all get the idea.

Does it grab you?

American Corporate

A Novel

Part 1

Well, I woke up this morning

And I got myself a beer.

Well, I woke up this morning

And I got myself a beer.

The future's uncertain

And the end is always near

The Doors, "Roadhouse Blues"

Chapter 1

Rich Momintz could not remember the last time he had slept through the night, and this night was, if anything, worse than usual. Not only had Momintz been out of work for almost a year, spiking his natural anxiety to a new levels of neurosis -- the Paxil helped, but not much, perhaps because Momintz ignored the “do not take with alcohol” warning -- he had an interview for what actually looked to be a promising opportunity, the next morning at 9 AM in The Valley, a good two rush hours away from his hillside home in the North Bay.

Momintz spread his long, overweight forty-something frame across the living room sofa, pulled a cashmere blanket under his chin and prayed the periodic hum of the refrigerator would lull him back to sleep. The sweats had finally passed, and he had poured nearly a quart of cold milk down his parched, cig-scorched throat by the refrigerator light, letting the cool air wash over his soaked pajama top, before settling down in the dark living room to try and catch a few winks before sunup.

He heard the gentle snoring of his ten-year old son in his downstairs bedroom, seemingly in rhythm with the soft hum of the fridge, and thought of how it might feel to have his toe-headed boy taken from him, kidnapped by Cardassian raiders from across the neutral zone. He imagined himself as Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise, perched on his bridge, Number One barking orders at Worf, picking off Cardassian warships with photon torpedoes. There he was, the fearless protector or the realm, counting as he blasted their ships into cosmic dust: one down, two down, three down, four down...until he finally nodded off.

He had just begun to dream. It was a flying dream where he could hover above the would-be Cardassian kidnappers and smack their worm-encrusted craniums with his Great Big Bertha driver, feeling the powerful "whoosh-click" of an expertly executed golf shot, though he couldn’t recall any Star Trek Next Gen episodes where Picard played golf. The Captain tended to play polo whenever he visited the holodeck, and Number One was always playing trombone with some jazz band. Momintz often imagined what he might do if he had his own personal holodeck, and it definitely didn’t have anything to do with golf.

Then the alarm went off upstairs, next to the bed where he usually slept with his wife of 15 years. He threw off the cashmere blanket and jumped up. “Shit,” he growled, rushing for the stairs, then stumbling over their slobbering, spastic yellow Labrador retriever, Barney, named so by his 7-year old daughter after the famous purple dinosaur.

"Jesus...fuckin' dog!" growled Momintz as he shoved Barney out of the way. He heard Carrie,groan in the bed upstairs as the alarm continued to beep, picturing her pulling the down pillow over her head. Carrie Momintz could be a lethal swarm of killer bees when wakened before her designated time.

Momintz stood aside as the dog raced for the door, then liberated the pooch into the misty pre-dawn light to terrify whatever remaining nocturnal woodland creatures might be about. Momintz grimaced as the dog squatted over the hopeless patch of anemic fescue Momintz liked to call "the lawn". Maybe Carrie would attend to Barney’s morning contribution before he had the opportunity to step in it.

Sure enough, Carrie Momintz had her pillow in a death grip over her sleepy head, trying to drown out the still-beeping alarm. "God, Rich," came her muffled voice from underneath the pillow. "What time is it?"

"Six. I gotta be outta here in 20 minutes." Carrie pulled the pillow tighter about her head, while Momintz rushed into the bathroom, quickly ran the electric razor over his graying stubble and jumped in the shower. He resisted his usual urge to to linger under the warm stream and soap his itching hemorrhoids. Instead, with a silly little TV jingle that repeated the phrase “gotta go, gotta go” rattling around in his head, he pulled on the uniform: Nordstrom briefs, Ralph Lauren socks, Polo khaki slacks and Polo oxford blue shirt - in record time.

Just when he thought he had everything wired he noticed a tiny, fresh pimple on the tip of his bulbous pink nose. "Shit," he thought and gave it a squeeze, wondering when he would get over the teenage acne syndrome. A red welt immediately appeared, so he reached for his wife's makeup and quickly applied a little pancake to the spot. He went back to work on his standard-issue red power tie when he heard the dog gouging another deep groove into the front door, so, grabbing his penny loafers, he bounded down the stairs and flung it open.

It wasn't until Barney had rushed past him, skidding across the hardwood floor, and was slobbering in front of the cabinet that held the dog treats, that Rich Momintz smelled skunk. Powerful skunk. Skunk so strong it made his eyes water. "Fuckin' A!"he muttered, slamming the door, trying to shut the skunk smell out. He turned, woozy, and stumbled across the living room to the kitchen, expecting the smell to dissipate. But no. The smell was equally strong if not stronger in the kitchen, where Barney stood panting by the cupboard.

Momintz took one look at the dog and groaned - he could practically see the odor wafting off his golden fur, as if he were the hind end of Pepe Le Pue in a Hanna Barbara cartoon. "Goddamn dog," he muttered, backing away, opening the kitchen door, motioning to Barney. "OUT!" he said in his sternest "bad-dog" voice. But Barney wouldn't budge - skunked or not, Barney was going to get his morning bone. "NO!" commanded Momintz. "NO BONE!" Still Barney pawed at the cupboard, looking up at Momintz with his shit eating dog grin as if to say "I ain't leavin' 'til I get my fuckin' bone, asshole!"

Momintz grabbed Barney by the collar, dragged the stinky pooch across the floor and shoved him outside, nearly chopping off the tip of his golden tail as he slammed the door behind him. The dog turned and began scratching the door with renewed vigor, peeping like a maligned bird. Momintz ignored it.

"What's that smell?" Carrie stood at the top of the stairs in her disheveled nightie, looking both sexy and hopelessly exhausted at the same time.

"Barney got skunked," he said as he marched up the stairs.

"Ugh!" grunted Carrie Momintz, squeezing her nostrils shut, crawling back

into bed and cocooning under the covers. "Disgusting," Momintz could hear her mutter as he walked past to retrieve his standard navy blazer.

Outside Momintz noticed that the skunk smell, though still strong, was not as strong as it seemed to be in the house. He was closing the front gate when Barney came racing up, smashed open the gate, evaded his Master’s grasping arms, and tore down the street.

Momintz didn’t even try calling after him. Instead, he raised his face to the brightening sky:

“Jesus, God, cut me a fuckin’ break, willya?”

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11 Comments // 6 Members

nebrad

Posted: Jan 18, 08 4:08am

tweedledum wrote:

Hi Kids,

Here's an opening chapter of one of several novels I've been working on for the past few hundred years. Ther...

Does it grab you? Hard to say at this moment because you haven't provided a discernible 'hook' in this excerpt. The picture you paint here of the neurotic middle age man looking to re-establish himself is fair enough, but the characters and setting are really verging on the over-familiar. I'm hoping the hook will come when Momintz gets to the interview. Let's see it!

Apart from that I thought there was an overuse of adjectives. That's a personal thing though. It starts to grate when the writer feels he has to qualify every single noun; ie. the guy grabs some milk from the refrigerator. Did you really need to tell us the milk was cold?

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Milt T

Posted: Jan 18, 08 8:53am

tweedledum wrote:

Hi Kids,

Here's an opening chapter of one of several novels I've been working on for the past few hundred years. Ther...

I read only the first two paragraphs and quit. Why?

Let's look at them. The first two words are great. You name your character and his name is unique so that a reader can begin to build an identity. After that, it breaks down quickly but is easily reparable with your backspacer.

Rich Momintz could not remember the last time he had slept through the night, and this night was, if anything, worse than usual.

The above sentence sounds the alarm that you are going to have an attack of the run-ons. As soon as the word AND appears in the first sentence, I see one too many ideas for a reader to grasp at this early stage of story development. You need to hit the reader over the head before he thinks of leaving. In the beginning, like a pitcher warming up, take baby steps. The sentence is perfect before the "and." Use a period. Then the second idea in a separate sentence to balance the first with a second idea that adds to it and defines it.

Then you really get started ...

Not only had Momintz been out of work for almost a year, spiking his natural anxiety to a new levels of neurosis -- the Paxil helped, but not much, perhaps because Momintz ignored the “do not take with alcohol” warning -- he had an interview for what actually looked to be a promising opportunity, the next morning at 9 AM in The Valley, a good two rush hours away from his hillside home in the North Bay.

The above sentence is not the longest I have ever seen. It is too long to say anything the reader will remember by the time he snakes his way to the end.

Look at the number of ideas squozen together. Squozen was not a word until I used it in this context.

out of work

natural anxiety

neurosis

Paxil helped

not much

alcohol” warning

interview

promising opportunity

next morning at 9 AM

in The Valley

two rush hours away

his hillside home

in the North Bay (was his home IN the Bay? That would make a whole nuther story).

Momintz spread his long, overweight forty-something frame across the living room sofa, pulled a cashmere blanket under his chin and prayed the periodic hum of the refrigerator would lull him back to sleep.

The above sentence has at least nine adjectives. I will give a subscription to Dove Bar Lovers' Magazine to anyone who can read the sentence once and recall every adjective without looking.

The sweats had finally passed, and he had poured nearly a quart of cold milk down his parched, cig-scorched throat by the refrigerator light, letting the cool air wash over his soaked pajama top, before settling down in the dark living room to try and catch a few winks before sunup.

The above sentence has the same issue as the several above - too much information and too many adjectives. I was drowning in detail and had no idea where you were going to go with the story.

Here is an outline that may help you simplify the beginning:

You need to show a person (you did that fast and well) with a problem (singular)

I are not sure what the problem is - I think it is possibly that his house is in the Bay in which case, he better save his son from the briny deep before he worries about a job!

Once you develop a simple thread of person with problem to overcome, you will have 387 - 576 pages in which to develop the details.

Ernest Hemingway would have made about twelve stories out of your first two paragraphs.

An aside: I read your hero's name as Rich Moments. Was that intentional? If not, make it so and take credit for it. I'll never tell!

In the next draft, work on creating a hook that will force the reader to continue reading. Until you do that, the reader has no reason to push through all the verbiage. Once you hook a reader, you can spoon feed all the details. You wrote a whole book in two paragraphs.

The secret when writing a novel is to go slow. You put so much information into it that if you keep up that pace, you will finish on page 12.

Perhaps one of the reasons you are working on so many novels is that you aren't concentrating on writing one of them. Discipline isn't taking time to write. It is taking time to read what you wrote to see why it isn't progressing as you want it to.

I read only the first two paragraphs and quit. Why? Let's look at them. The first two words are great. You name your character and his name is unique so that a reader can begin to build an identity. After that, it breaks down quickly but is easily reparable with your backspacer. Rich Momintz could not remember the last time he had slept through the night, and this night was, if anything, worse than usual. The above sentence sounds the alarm that you are going to have an attack of the run-ons. As soon as the word AND appears in the first sentence, I see one too many ideas for a reader to grasp at this early stage of story development. You need to hit the reader over the head before he thinks of leaving. In the beginning, like a pitcher warming up, take baby steps. The sentence is perfect before the "and." Use a period. Then the second idea in a separate sentence to balance the first with a second idea that adds to it and defines it. Then you really get started ... Not only had Momintz been out of work for almost a year, spiking his natural anxiety to a new levels of neurosis -- the Paxil helped, but not much, perhaps because Momintz ignored the “do not take with alcohol” warning -- he had an interview for what actually looked to be a promising opportunity, the next morning at 9 AM in The Valley, a good two rush hours away from his hillside home in the North Bay. The above sentence is not the longest I have ever seen. It is too long to say anything the reader will remember by the time he snakes his way to the end. Look at the number of ideas squozen together. Squozen was not a word until I used it in this context. out of work natural anxiety neurosis Paxil helped not much alcohol” warning interview promising opportunity next morning at 9 AM in The Valley two rush hours away his hillside home in the North Bay (was his home IN the Bay? That would make a whole nuther story). Momintz spread his long, overweight forty-something frame across the living room sofa, pulled a cashmere blanket under his chin and prayed the periodic hum of the refrigerator would lull him back to sleep. The above sentence has at least nine adjectives. I will give a subscription to Dove Bar Lovers' Magazine to anyone who can read the sentence once and recall every adjective without looking. The sweats had finally passed, and he had poured nearly a quart of cold milk down his parched, cig-scorched throat by the refrigerator light, letting the cool air wash over his soaked pajama top, before settling down in the dark living room to try and catch a few winks before sunup. The above sentence has the same issue as the several above - too much information and too many adjectives. I was drowning in detail and had no idea where you were going to go with the story. Here is an outline that may help you simplify the beginning: You need to show a person (you did that fast and well) with a problem (singular) I are not sure what the problem is - I think it is possibly that his house is in the Bay in which case, he better save his son from the briny deep before he worries about a job! Once you develop a simple thread of person with problem to overcome, you will have 387 - 576 pages in which to develop the details. Ernest Hemingway would have made about twelve stories out of your first two paragraphs. An aside: I read your hero's name as Rich Moments. Was that intentional? If not, make it so and take credit for it. I'll never tell! In the next draft, work on creating a hook that will force the reader to continue reading. Until you do that, the reader has no reason to push through all the verbiage. Once you hook a reader, you can spoon feed all the details. You wrote a whole book in two paragraphs. The secret when writing a novel is to go slow. You put so much information into it that if you keep up that pace, you will finish on page 12. Perhaps one of the reasons you are working on so many novels is that you aren't concentrating on writing one of them. Discipline isn't taking time to write. It is taking time to read what you wrote to see why it isn't progressing as you want it to.

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Posted: Jan 18, 08 8:53am

Quote

Comment

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I read only the first two paragraphs and quit.  Why?

Let's look at them.  The first two words are great.  You name your character and his name is unique so that a reader can begin to build an identity.  After that, it breaks down quickly but is easily reparable with your backspacer.

Rich Momintz could not remember the last time he had slept through the night, and this night was, if anything, worse than usual.

The above sentence sounds the alarm that you are going to have an attack of the run-ons.  As soon as the word AND appears in the first sentence, I see one too many ideas for a reader to grasp at this early stage of story development.  You need to hit the reader over the head before he thinks of leaving.  In the beginning, like a pitcher warming up, take baby steps.  The sentence is perfect before the "and."  Use a period.  Then the second idea in a separate sentence to balance the first with a second idea that adds to it and defines it.

Then you really get started ...

Not only had Momintz been out of work for almost a year, spiking his natural anxiety to a new levels of neurosis -- the Paxil helped, but not much, perhaps because Momintz ignored the “do not take with alcohol” warning -- he had an interview for what actually looked to be a promising opportunity, the next morning at 9 AM in The Valley, a good two rush hours away from his hillside home in the North Bay.

The above sentence is not the longest I have ever seen.  It is too long to say anything the reader will remember by the time he snakes his way to the end.

Look at the number of ideas squozen together.  Squozen was not a word until I used it in this context.

out of work 
natural anxiety
neurosis 
Paxil helped
not much
alcohol” warning 
interview
promising opportunity
next morning at 9 AM 
in The Valley
two rush hours away 
his hillside home
in the North Bay (was his home IN the Bay? That would make a whole nuther story).

Momintz spread his long, overweight forty-something frame across the living room sofa, pulled a cashmere blanket under his chin and prayed the periodic hum of the refrigerator would lull him back to sleep.

The above sentence has at least nine adjectives.  I will give a subscription to Dove Bar Lovers' Magazine to anyone who can read the sentence once and recall every adjective without looking.

The sweats had finally passed, and he had poured nearly a quart of cold milk down his parched, cig-scorched throat by the refrigerator light, letting the cool air wash over his soaked pajama top, before settling down in the dark living room to try and catch a few winks before sunup.

The above sentence has the same issue as the several above - too much information and too many adjectives.  I was drowning in detail and had no idea where you were going to go with the story.

Here is an outline that may help you simplify the beginning:

You need to show a person (you did that fast and well) with a problem (singular)

I are not sure what the problem is - I think it is possibly that his house is in the Bay in which case, he better save his son from the briny deep before he worries about a job!

Once you develop a simple thread of person with problem to overcome, you will have 387 - 576 pages in which to develop the details.

Ernest Hemingway would have made about twelve stories out of your first two paragraphs.

An aside: I read your hero's name as Rich Moments.  Was that intentional?  If not, make it so and take credit for it.  I'll never tell!

In the next draft, work on creating a hook that will force the reader to continue reading.  Until you do that, the reader has no reason to push through all the verbiage.  Once you hook a reader, you can spoon feed all the details.  You wrote a whole book in two paragraphs.

The secret when writing a novel is to go slow.  You put so much information into it that if you keep up that pace, you will finish on page 12.

Perhaps one of the reasons you are working on so many novels is that you aren't concentrating on writing one of them.  Discipline isn't taking time to write.  It is taking time to read what you wrote to see why it isn't progressing as you want it to.

Alert me when someone comments on this discussion.

tweedledum

Posted: Jan 18, 08 9:35am

Milt T wrote:

I read only the first two paragraphs and quit. Why?

Let's look at them. The first two words are great. You name yo...

Great comments! Thanks Milt and NeBrad.

I am always harping on folks to tighten up their prose, lose the unnecessary adjectives, blah blah blah. I agree with both of you. As one editor suggested years ago: "Vary the line length" - long notes, punctuated with short notes. I've got way to many long notes going on here.

I'm not sure what you mean by "over familiar", NeBrad. You mean the character and his situation are stereotypical?

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Westerly

Posted: Jan 18, 08 9:53am

tweedledum wrote:

Hi Kids,

Here's an opening chapter of one of several novels I've been working on for the past few hundred years. Ther...

Sentences are quite long, "sentencing" the reader to a long slog to the end.

Subject matter is quite interesting. I care about the character and want to know what happens to him.

There are some good phrases further on down. ("Carrie could be a lethal swarm of killer bees....")

The paragraph about the skunk smell was good - short and strong.

Loved the last sentence.

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nebrad

Posted: Jan 18, 08 10:03am

tweedledum wrote:

Hi Kids,

Here's an opening chapter of one of several novels I've been working on for the past few hundred years. Ther...

I think you've presented a scene of typical ordinariness without (if this is the entire opening chapter) giving the reader a reason to want to go on.

I'm thinking that some conflict or plotline is going to kick in at the interview. If that's true, fine. If not, then you might be in trouble because the writing style seems to be pushing you forward to something. I mean, it doesn't come over as a literary examination of middle-age failure and neurosis.

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tweedledum

Posted: Jan 18, 08 10:31am

nebrad wrote:

I think you've presented a scene of typical ordinariness without (if this is the entire opening chapter) giving the read...

So...it must not be coming across that our hero smells like skunk as he heads off to his job interview? I must be assuming too much - assuming that the reader would understand that a local skunking permeates everything, not just dogs.

Before I edited this last night, the first chapter included the job interview. But it felt like a very long chapter. If it's not coming across that Rich Momintz is headed off to a "do or die" interview smelling like skunk, then...that's a great observation. Thanks!

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nebrad

Posted: Jan 18, 08 12:48pm

nebrad wrote:

I think you've presented a scene of typical ordinariness without (if this is the entire opening chapter) giving the read...

I thought I'd misread the end of the chapter. I thought that Rich had made a grab for the dog and missed. That's actually what you wrote. So the last line didn't make sense to me. So he smells of skunk eh? I think I'm getting there now. (Actually the closest most Englishmen have got to a skunk IS Pepe le Pue).

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