Editorial Notes = clarifying information, additional insight, annotations

Hiya Reader,

The good news is that I met my perfect literary agent. We are completely in sync with our interests and sensibilities, she understands and is excited by my project, and we "get along like gangbusters" on a personal level (as my father would say).

The bad news? She can't offer me representation because she is already on submission with another author's manuscript, one which is in competition with mine. (So much so that my subtitle is the other author's main title!)

Stay strong out there, querying friends.
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Example of the Week

Sometimes this is a good example—or a great one. Sometimes this is a bad example—or just a funny blooper. Sometimes a combination. You never know.

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Do you agree? Tell me what you think!

Actionable Tip of the Week

A trick to add to your self-editing toolbox right now!

Picture this: You're at a bookstore, coffee in hand, browsing your favorite section. You pick up a promising book, flip to page one, and... three paragraphs in, you're mentally composing your grocery list: bread, bananas, paper towels. Back on the shelf it goes.

Sound familiar? Whether you're the browser or the browsee in this scenario, you've just experienced the brutal reality of first pages.

I've been writing professionally for (ahem) decades. Yet one of my biggest struggles with my manuscript was the opening. My narrative includes several possible entry points, all of which have good and bad reasons I could point to to argue for/against as first pages. I found what I thought was the perfect solution: a prologue! But guess what happened? One of my beta readers said that if they had picked the book up and read the first paragraphs, they would immediately put it back.

Soul crushing. Yet, after much consideration, I realized my beta reader was spot on. Despite all the writers I've taught, coached, or edited over the years, I skipped everything I know when it came to my own work!

Let's talk about what's really happening when someone puts the book back on the shelf (or deletes in from their inbox). Put simply: something about that crucial first impression doesn't work.

Sometimes it's the writing itself, in that the prose feels unpolished or the voice hasn't found its footing yet. Sometimes it's that the story concept, while potentially solid, isn't grabbing attention in a crowded marketplace. And sometimes, more often than you'd think, it's that the story simply hasn't started yet.

Here's what industry professionals, the gatekeepers for all traditional publishing, want to know within the first few paragraphs:

• Can this person write well enough for publication?
• Will readers want to keep turning pages?
• Is there a clear market for this story right now?

Notice what's missing from that list?

• A complete character backstory.
• Detailed world-building.
• The protagonist's entire emotional history laid out in exposition.

Think about your most engaging friend—the one who always has the best stories. When they're telling you about their weekend, do they start with "Well, to understand this story, I need to give you some background about my relationship with my sister, the history of our family dynamics, and the socioeconomic factors that influenced our upbringing"? Of course not. They dive right in: "You'll never believe what happened at brunch yesterday!"

Here's another mistake I see constantly: writers who know their story gets exciting around chapter three, so they rush through a perfunctory opening to "get to the good stuff." But here's the thing. If the opening isn't good stuff too, you've already lost your reader. Every page of your manuscript should justify its existence. Your first page doesn't get a free pass just because you promise it gets better later.

Your first page has one job and one job only: make someone want to read your second page. The second page should compel them to turn to the third. And so on.

Don't start with these:

• The weather report opening: Starting with weather, time of day, or other atmospheric details before we have any reason to care about the setting.
• The mirror description: Your protagonist examining themselves in a mirror to give us their physical description is almost always a sign that the story hasn't really started yet.
• The backstory info-dump: Explaining everything that happened before this moment instead of trusting that we'll learn what we need to know as the story unfolds.
• The false start: Beginning with something dramatic that turns out to be a dream, a movie, or a memory — essentially tricking the reader into investing in events that aren't really happening.

Remember, your first paragraphs aren't just about hooking readers but also setting expectations for your entire story. The tone, style, and type of conflict you establish in those opening paragraphs are promises you're making about what kind of experience this book will be. If you start with quiet, contemplative prose about family relationships, don't pivot to high-octane action sequences in chapter two without a very good reason. If you open with sharp, funny dialogue, maintain that wit throughout your narrative.

• Someone doing something, making a choice, or reacting to a situation.
• Dialogue that shows us who these people are and what matters to them.
• A small but telling detail, something specific that gives us insight into your character or world without explaining everything. (If you're keeping track, this was what I chose to do in my own manuscript.)
• The instant when your protagonist's normal world shifts, even slightly.

When you're ready for a second set of eyes, check out my First Ten Pages offer.
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Reader Question of the Week

Barry wrote: Is there a technique to focus on "show don't tell" to stay consistent?

Barry! Show don't tell comes up so often, and while it's important, you're not alone in struggling with this — I do too, even after doing this for a long time. I'm not always sure how much is too much, or if I'm wrecking the pacing by showing when I should just say something directly.

One thing I'd suggest: don't try to fix everything at once. Start small: pick one passage or strategy to work on. If you try to overhaul an entire draft with every concern being equal, you'll get overwhelmed and work at cross-purposes.

Before working on your own writing, try this practice exercise from a former teacher: describe a winter park without ever mentioning it's winter or cold. That's challenging, but the mental gymnastics push you toward better verb choices, noun choices, and figurative language—which is exactly what show don't tell really means.

You can also pick an emotion — anger, fear, excitement — and write a paragraph conveying it without naming the emotion. Give it to someone else to read and see if they can identify what you were going for. If they can, you've done well. If not, ask what led them astray and try again.

Here's a key point: showing doesn't mean increasing verbiage or making things wordier. It's doing it in a more engaging way that helps readers feel they're experiencing the story. Instead of "Tim was angry," try "Tim slammed his coffee mug down so hard the coffee spilled all over his desk." That's anger without saying so, and it gives readers a picture.

Try using sensory details — sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing. Describe something using all five senses, then pick the one or two that resonate most. You can also give every underlying emotion or tension a physical manifestation. Embarrassed people sweat or fidget. Confident people walk with shoulders back and spine straight.

The reader doesn't want to be told what to think. Your anger doesn't look like my anger. But I do care about a coffee mug slamming down and spilling everywhere, something that invites me in and lets me use my own brain, which we all want to do when reading (even when we're reading to relax!)

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Link of the Week

Like the Pomodoro technique for focus sessions? Focus Friend features a judgmental bean character (who knits!) that gets sad when you use your phone, effectively gamifying your focus.
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I ❤️ Hearing from You!

Comments? Just reply to this email or click this link. I respond to every email—that's a promise.

Thanks for reading!

~Helene, your writing sherpa

P.S.

Find out if your hook actually hooks, your pacing draws readers forward, your voice is distinctive, the main character is worthy of a reader's investment, and if you're even starting in the right place.

Your story deserves readers who can't put it down. Let's make sure your first ten pages are perfect page turners.

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