Call for opening pages
An invitation for writers enrolled in our May 8th masterclass to share material and possibly win a free workshop.
Hello and TGIF!
I’m writing this ahead of the date you’re reading it because—in theory—I’ll still be on bed rest after my surgery last Tuesday. (Thank you for the well wishes many of you have sent!)
On May 8th, I’m running a masterclass on the importance of opening pages, especially for people who are querying, or submitting to editors, jury prizes, and/or residencies. I’m sharing a special open call for pages here but first, a PSA, followed by extra information about the May 8th class.
Writing the Self, Riding the Horse: An intimate book talk on May 9th
If you live in the Berkshires or Litchfield County area and are a fan of writing—or reading—memoir, please join me and fellow author Emma Hudelson at the beautiful Norfolk Library in Connecticut on May 9th for an intimate discussion about memoir, mares, motherhood, and what it’s like to have our hearts divided between competing passions. A nice way to kick off Mother’s Day weekend, if I do say so myself! Books will be available for signing and refreshments will be served.
Register for the event here or share with anyone who might be interested.
On the topic of opening pages—do they really matter? What do they need to do…and how do you make them do it?
People often ask me, “How do I know when my manuscript is ready for submission?” and “How do I know when it’s done?” One of the simplest ways to answer this is by examining how ready your opening pages are.
Do the opening pages deliver on the promise of the entire project? (Meaning, do they deliver on elements you’re promising in your query letter or your artist statement?)
Are you getting across stakes, setting, and character preoccupation from the first paragraph on?
Are you showing momentum in your manuscript (or essay) or lack thereof?
Is there an urgency to the writing and/or a strong voice?
Do you know how to use the “haiku” rule and/or the “occupation/preoccupation” hack to strengthen your opening pages? These are two approaches I’ve invented that I’ll share in class.
This class is still open for registration, and it’s appropriate for people working in all genres except poetry. You can sign up via this webpage and scroll down to the May 8th class. As always, video will be sent out after the class to enrolled students who can’t join us live.
Friday Office hours call for subscriber Opening Pages:
Just like I did for the Query Writing class, students enrolled in the Opening Pages masterclass are invited to submit the first page of their manuscript (any genre except poetry) here in the comments for possible use in a live workshop of their pages during class.
Here’s how this open call works:
This open call is only available to students registered in the May 8th class. If you’d like to enroll, you can do so, here.
Please only submit if you can join us live during the May 8th class (from 7pm-10pm).
In the comment section, in this order put: 1) the title 2) the genre 3) super short description (1-3 sentence summary) of the work 4) first page of the manuscript (it’s okay if the formatting is off).
The excerpt you post must be from the first page of your manuscript. No exceptions. If you have to run into the second page to finish a thought or sentence, that’s okay.
I’ll get in touch if I want to workshop your pages during class. If your material is chosen, you will get a free pass to an upcoming Turning Points masterclasses of your choice.
Especially because I’m still recovering from surgery1, it’s unlikely that I’ll be commenting on shared material in the comments unless I intend to use your opening pages(s) in class. That being said, it’s so instructive and beneficial for our community to be able to see other people’s material in the comments—I want to extend my gratitude to students for bravely sharing their words, here. Thank you! Remember—I’m trying to keep “Before and After the Book Deal” a supportive and positive place here on the Internet. If you have something negative to say about someone’s opening pages: don’t say it! Comment on other people’s work as you would like people to comment on your own.
Thanks everybody! I hope to be back to my regular self soon, breathing better, sleeping better— here’s hoping!
With gratitude,
Courtney
Enrolled students: post your Opening Page material right here in the comments per the guidelines stated above. I look forward to reading your submissions and thank you for your generosity in sharing your work!
I’m having three elective nasal surgeries to (hopefully) correct breathing issues that an ENT diagnosed me with this past winter. Wish me luck!
Title: Exposed: A Memoir of Love, Tainted Blood, and a Pharmaceutical Scandal (working title)
Genre: Memoir
Description: During the early days of the AIDS pandemic, young photographer falls in love with her charming and funny neighbor. When she learns he has contracted HIV and hepatitis from the blood product he used to treat his hemophilia, she believes she can handle the situation, unaware that he is part of one of the worst, (and largely unknown) pharmaceutical scandals of the twentieth century – killing tens of thousands of people worldwide.
Page One: December 1, 1985
Through the windowpane, I saw Dave clutching a fist-sized vial and a syringe. The December air bit my cheeks as I cracked open my back door. It wasn’t like him to show up uninvited in the evening. “Are you okay?” I asked, unsure if I was ready for what might come next.
“I climbed Mount Monadnock today and hurt my hip,” Dave said. “I keep missing my vein. Will you infuse me?”
I swallowed in disbelief. Dave’s hemophilia turned real in an instant. I was a twenty-six-year-old newspaper photographer, not a seasoned nurse. Sure he lived next door, but we’d only been on three dates––if you count the night we shot pool at the dive bar on the edge of the Nashua River. Certainly, we had not discussed a situation like this between barstool kisses. He’d asked me about my tastes in food, music, and books, but not, How good are you with a needle? But on his strained face, I glimpsed at years of bleeding injuries. Injuries that would require a girlfriend who could handle the interruptions. Not that I was officially his girlfriend––but those barstool kisses sure tasted sweet.
I invited Dave inside to get him out of the cold and to figure out how to handle his request.
“Thanks,” he said. “My hip’s throbbing like crazy.”
I winced as he limped across my kitchen floor to the living room, muffling his groans. I could feel Dave’s suffering, as though my own body ached. It’d been two weeks since he told me about his medical condition, and I was still getting used to it. Was he testing me to see if his hemophilia was a deal breaker?
“Have a seat on the couch,” I said. Dave settled in, and I handed him a soft pillow from my bedroom. I lowered the volume of the television, muting my Sunday night favorite, Murder She Wrote. I’d have to wait for reruns to watch Jessica figure out who injected the prison doctor with a fatal dose of morphine, leaving a needle and empty vial on her office floor. Instead, I turned my attention to the vial in my living room, along with the realization that I could not send Dave away.
Title: The Now In Forever
Genre: Rom-Com
Description: Ten years ago Hattie Stevens spent just a little over twenty-four hours with the attractive, creative, always moving, slightly chaotic writer, Ed DeArmas. Five years later Hattie attends Ed’s book signing, to her utter heartbreak, he doesn’t recognize her. Now, Hattie agrees to spend the summer rent-free on the Oregon coast with her two best friends and their partners, one who also brought a friend…Ed.
First page:
Summer Solstice 5 years
Time is not on my side today. I’m late and I’m never late. When I finally make it to the bookstore I’m out of breath. Sweat beads at the nape of my neck. The bookstore is too hot and crowded. I take out my ear buds, Stevie Nicks still crooning about thunder and rain. For a moment, I toy with the idea of leaving, heading back into the sunshine, putting my earbuds back in and going to get a solo glass of wine somewhere. Because I’m a strong independent almost twenty-four year old woman and that’s what I do now—walk around Helena with empowering women in my earbuds and am perfectly capable of getting dinner or a drink by myself. I never have, but I am capable of it.
“Name please,” the woman at the door asks with a clipboard in hand.
“Hattie Stevens.”
She flips to the next page and scratches a check next to my name. “Enjoy.”
All the neatly lined up chairs are taken, so I stand in the back tucking my freshly dyed blonde hair behind my ear (break up hair), clutching the book, his book in my other hand.
Will he recognize me with the new hair? The last time he saw me it was brown, well brown and unfortunately green. I take a deep breath. Of course he will recognize me. I still have the same face, the same blue eyes he once called mesmerizing. There’s no way he won’t recognize me. Not after what we shared. But what if he’s not happy to see me?
I’m not sure what I expected from this reading. That’s not true I know exactly what I expected, more like hoped for, but it certainly wasn’t this humid and crowded in my fantasies. I should’ve known it would be packed by the fact that I had to get a ticket, but it didn’t occur to me. All I thought was how amazing it’s on the solstice. Exactly five years later.