Red letters flew into John’s vision, projected from his Eyespy. Maps and instructions flooded the Wallscapes. Warnings wailed in his Earbug.

Full evacuation? They can’t be serious. This is the third major drill since June.

John glanced up at the skylight of the observation lounge where he had escaped to catch up on technical documents. The blue and white orb of the Earth sparkled in the mid-day luminescence of the Sun. The sight, while beautiful in calmer moments, suddenly chilled him to the bone. The normally laser-straight and hair-thin cable that anchored his world to the Earth bowed and shimmied. The implication coalesced in his mind like a driver whose car was careening off a bridge.

The cable. They said this could never happen. They said it was unbreakable.

His heart thundered and his breath shuddered in ragged gasps.

“Evacuation,” he cried out, “evacuation! It’s no drill! We gotta get off!”
—Andrew Rosenberg

Developmental Edit

I like the progression from John’s casual, confident tone to sudden panic. That’s a nice little character arc right there!

Tense? check
Detailed? check
Raises a question? check What’s the warning for?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check Holy cow—the cable broke!

What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? John is on some type of space station anchored to the Earth by a single cable. He works with technical documents, likes to be alone to focus, is equipped with a whole smorgasbord of technical gadgetry, and has been here at least since June.

Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? Sure. He seems intelligent, well aware of his surroundings, and able to interpret a situation in the blink of an eye. Those are excellent qualities in a protagonist.

Genre? Sci fi. Space sci fi.

Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? We have plenty of information to know what he’s doing and how he needs to react.

Do we need to know what he’s going to do next? We already know—he’s going to try like heck to evacuate! As would I, in his shoes.

Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? You betcha. And it’s an excellent moment, one in which he is facing unexpected mortal danger.

So let’s talk about the structure of it. It’s got good, concrete details and high tension. I’m slightly distracted by the verbs “flew” and “wailed,” and this is one situation in which I’d add a couple of words to keep the reader from stumbling over what to think of John’s vision. I would also expect John’s physical reaction to be slightly more instantaneous than it is, and there’s a metaphor at the climax of the scene that distracts us from the tension of the moment. Can this be made shorter and snappier, avoiding repetition, while streamlining the tension and jolting us exactly the way John’s jolted?

Copy & Line Edit

Red letters ran across John’s line of vision, projected from his Eyespy. Maps and instructions flooded the Wallscapes, and warnings sounded in his Earbug.

Full evacuation? They can’t be serious. This is the third major drill since June.

John glanced from his technical documents to the skylight of the observation lounge. The blue and white orb of the Earth sparkled in the luminescence of the Sun, a sight that suddenly chilled him to the bone. Normally laser-straight and hair-thin, the cable that anchored his world to the Earth bowed and shimmied.

His heart thundered.

They said this could never happen. That cable is unbreakable.

His breath came in ragged gasps.

“Evacuation!” He jumped up. “Evacuation! It’s no drill—we gotta get off!”

Father Patrick lay on the pavement outside the parish office, his skin ashen, the sash from his cassock wound around his throat. Molly willed herself to look away from his body, to ground herself in focusing on anything else—the scent of freshly-mown grass, the rough texture of the limestone cobbles, the echo of the police’s measured footsteps. But the details made the horror even more surreal.

She hugged Kathleen, her sobbing coworker, and wished she could abandon herself to the same wave of sorrow—grief she should be feeling, if her heart weren’t so numb with shock.

Uniformed officers cordoned off the area around Father Patrick and the open office door. If Molly had locked the office yesterday, it wouldn’t have been an easy target. She swallowed against the panic rising in her throat like bile. She wouldn’t be any good to anyone—least of all the Chicago police—if she lost her head.
—Jordan McCollum

Developmental Edit

This is some great internal conflict going on here. Molly versus Molly, round one!

Tense? check
Dramatic? check
Raises a question? check What happened to Father Patrick?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check Why is it important to the police that Molly in particular keep her head?

What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? A female named Molly is witnessing the aftermath of the apparent murder of a male named Father Patrick. The police and a female co-worker are also there. And Molly feels partially responsible for the death.

Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? That’s a good question. If it turns out that Molly really is pivotal to the police investigation and that she can keep a cool head even while Kathleen is losing hers, then I’m interested. However, if she’s a victim character who feels guilty about things and imagines she’s more important to the police than she is, then I don’t think I’ll follow her for long.

Genre? Mystery. Natch.

Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? I know Molly’s got enough connection to the site of the murder that she feels implicated, and that’s enough for me.

Do we need to know what she’s going to do next? I’d like to see some action.

Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? Absolutely.

Let’s talk about the structure of it. There are some good details and concrete action. There is also, though, quite a bit of exposition, particularly Molly’s thoughts—more than normal for a mystery. And there’s a slight roadbump with the verb “wound” because it’s too easy for the reader to leap to the conclusion that you mean in this context the noun “wound.”

Can this be made shorter and snappier, while sharpening Molly’s internal tension?

Copy & Line Edit

Father Patrick lay on the pavement outside the parish office, his skin ashen, the sash from his cassock around his throat. Molly willed herself to look away, numb with shock, to ground herself in the smell of grass, the limestone cobbles, the echo of the police’s measured footsteps. But the details made the horror even more surreal.

She hugged Kathleen, who sobbed, and wished she could abandon herself to her own grief.

Uniformed officers cordoned off the area around Father Patrick and the open door. Molly hadn’t locked the office yesterday. She swallowed against the bile rising in her throat. She wouldn’t be any good to anyone—least of all the Chicago police—if she lost her head.

The blood pooling under the man’s back reminded Nick of butterfly wings. They spread from the twin wounds, sweeping to each side in graceful arcs that sparkled in the sunlight from a kitchen window.

Nick didn’t blink when the man writhed on the floor, choking on his blood. His yellow teeth turned red. “I’m not the only one, Avery. The others will get you. Both sides.”

Clenching his jaw, Nick raised his pistol and sent a bullet between the Brazilian’s eyes. A muffled pop from the silencer. As rarely as it happened, taking a life was the worst part of his job. What job he had left. He glared at the bloody wings on the floor, an image that made him think of her. Death and wings.
—Michelle Davidson Argyle

Developmental Edit

I love the graceful, sparkling arcs in the sunlight. That’s a beautiful image.

Tense? check
Freaky? check
Raises a question? check check What are the wounds? What’s wrong with Nick’s job (besides the obvious)?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check What her?

What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? A fairly-calm male character named Nick has a job in which he sometimes has to kill people—possibly only dying people. And even that job is in danger. He also have a female love interest associated with death and wings.

Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? Well, he’s not a bad character. I mean, he hates having to kill people for work, and I can relate to that. I don’t like it either. Also, his love interest could develop into something profound. But this is a pretty gory scene.

Genre? Horror. Possibly fantasy.

Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? I am a little confused about the difference in significance between Nick and Avery. So far, we know more about Avery—he’s Brazilian, he has two matching wounds (so apparently something dreadful happened to him), and there are others after him—than we do about Nick, who just has a job and a gun.

Do we need to know what he’s going to do next? I’m rather stunned by the gore and hoping he’s suddenly going to be in some nice boring office giving us some backstory.

Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? Wow, does it.

Let’s talk about the structure of it. There’s a practical problem, which is that the butterfly shape of the pools of blood has to stay until the final line, in order to lead Nick’s thought to “her,” but the bleeding man writhes in the middle of the scene, presumably smearing the puddles. I’ve never seen anyone bleed to death, so I couldn’t say for sure, but I think the writhing might be a mistake. I mean, it is revolting—you’d only use that ugly of an image if you wanted the reader to really hate that particular character. And so far I don’t know enough about Avery to hate him, which makes me feel like my shock-detectors are just being yanked.

Can this be made shorter and snappier, being careful not to alienate the reader and saving any backstory details for later, while clarifying which character we’re supposed to care about and how “bloody wings” makes Nick think of “her” without it being simply that she also died in a matching pair of pools of blood?

Copy & Line Edit

The blood pooling under the man’s back reminded Nick of butterfly wings, sweeping to each side in graceful arcs that sparkled in the sunlight through the kitchen window.

“I’m not the only one, Avery. The others will get you. Both sides.”

Clenching his jaw, Nick raised his pistol and sent a bullet between the Brazilian’s eyes. A muffled pop from the silencer. As rarely as it happened, taking a life was the worst part of his job. What job he had left. He glared at the bloody wings on the floor. Everything made him think of her—death and wings.

Please feel free to heap praise upon the heads of the participants in the comments section. That’s what it’s there for!

For clarification on commenting, please read Commenting on HOOKS.

A reminder: please stick to the 150-word limit. If you go more than a couple of words over, I have to cut off the end to keep it fair to everyone.

Everyone who wants their piece edited must go through and make at least three COMPLIMENTARY comments on pieces by others. Except the authors of the first batch, who earned their edits by having huevos. I know you folks have it in you! And praise from strangers is what publication’s all about, right?

Carmen slammed her keycard on the counter. She was old enough to remember metal keys, much more satisfying when it came to slamming. Metal clanked; plastic only clunked. Dully.

Her head ached and she was filled with remorse at the slip of the tongue that had revealed her insomnia. Only sometimes, she’d added quickly, but the agent had already checked the box. Hell’s bells. Mandatory end-of-life counseling, at age 52! What a world.

A noise from the old furnace vent startled her. Carmen tilted her head, listening, and heard nervous laughter followed by a series of thuds and muffled exclamations.

It was noon, and Shasta was downstairs instead of in school. Again. How long before a Social Enforcer buzzed? And what in God’s name was going on down there this time? Carmen faced the basement door, wishing she hadn’t declined the Aging Agent’s offer of nerve pills after all.
—M. Shirey

Developmental Edit

This is a wonderful, matter-of-fact take on sci-fi, bringing it home to reality with a very human protagonist.

Tense? check
Realistic? check
Raises a question? check What’s Shasta doing in in the basement?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check What nerve pills?

What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? A 52-year-old woman named Carmen with a child named Shasta has been to see someone called the Aging Agent and is bent because they prescribed mandatory end-of-life counseling when she accidentally admitted to insomnia. On top of that, she’s in trouble with some Social Enforcers’ agency because her child keeps skipping school, AND she turned down nerve pills! Nerve pills! I ask you!

Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? Man, Carmen’s completely got my attention. What kind of 52-year-old mother with insomnia and problems with Social Enforcers turns down nerve pills? Is the woman mad?

Genre? Sci fi. Looks futuristic to me.

Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? I’ve got it—she just came from the Aging Agency, where she royally screwed up.

Do we need to know what she’s going to do next? I have a pretty good idea she’s going to investigate the giggling in the basement.

Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? So totally.

Let’s talk about the structure of it. One note: numerals are spelled out, unless they’re extremely long, like years.

Other than that, this is pretty darn tight. I like that the first that happens is Carmen slamming her keys down, but I’d like to skip over the backstory and go straight to the point, which is that Carmen just got herself in the dog house with the Aging Agency. And is about to get herself in the doghouse with the Social Enforcers.

Clearly, this was the wrong time to turn down nerve pills.

Can this be made shorter and snappier? Marginally. I am going to do something I virtually never do, and that is replace a sentence, turning a statement to a gesture.

Copy & Line Edit

Carmen slammed her keycard on the counter. That slip of the tongue about insomnia. Only sometimes, she’d added quickly, but the Aging Agent had already checked the box. Hell’s bells. Mandatory end-of-life counseling, at age fifty-two! What a world.

She was old enough to remember metal keys, much more satisfying to slam. Metal clanked; plastic only clunked. Dully. She put a hand to her forehead.

A noise from the old furnace vent startled her. Carmen tilted her head, listening to nervous laughter followed by thuds and muffled exclamations.

It was noon, and Shasta was in the basement instead of in school. Again. How long before a Social Enforcer buzzed? And what in God’s name was going on down there this time? She wished she hadn’t declined the Aging Agent’s offer of nerve pills.

Trapped.

Isem’s eyes flickered around the room as he shifted on the chair. There wasn’t much to see. A small table lined with chairs, a fire licking away at the logs in the fireplace. A wood stove, a sink, and a counter where his captor stood, back to him. She was a short woman, but powerful. Overpowering her was not an option. To Isem’s right, an open door beckoned him with the inviting rays of dawn. His hands twitched as they rested on the table. If I could just make it to the door, he thought, she’d never catch me.

He glanced back at the woman. But if she catches me… He shuddered at the thought. The punishment facing him was bad enough without anything else tacked on. The prospect of freedom was too tempting though, and Isem braced himself against the table in preparation for a mad dash for the exit. On three…
—Richard Young

Developmental Edit

Terrific tension! Syd Field, the quintessential playwright, always begins a scene as close to the end as possible. You don’t get much closer than this!

Tense? check
Detailed? check
Raises a question? check Will he try to escape?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check Will he make it?

What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? A male character named Irem is being held against his will by a woman physically stronger than him and apparently planning to punish him. They appear to be in a home, and it is dawn.

Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? I’m ready to at least follow him to the next page! I want to see if he makes it. And whether he does or not, I want to know why he’s being held against his will and by whom.

Genre? I couldn’t find Isem in any name catalogues online, so I’m guessing it’s fantasy. It could be adult, children’s, or YA (I suspect the reason Isem can’t overpower the short woman is because he’s smaller than she is—a child), but there could also be a thriller or mystery element.

Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? I like not knowing. That’s tension!

Do we need to know what’s going to happen next? I am POISED to find out!

Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? Yes, it does. The sun is coming up, and Isem desperately wants to make a break for it.

So let’s talk about the structure of it. This is a very tense moment. There’s a certain amount of explanation that can be left to the reader’s imagination, inferred from the characters’ action and internal dialog. There is also one instance of sunlight “beckoning,” which is a problem because beckoning is a very specific gesture performed with the fingers, meaning inanimate objects—even fingerless objects—cannot beckon. Can this be made any shorter and snappier, while removing the explanations and beckoning and retaining the tension and ambiance?

Copy & Line Edit

Trapped.

Isem’s eyes flickered around the room—a small table, chairs, a fire licking at the logs in the fireplace. A short, powerful woman stood at the sink with her back to him. The light of dawn came through an open door, and his hands twitched on the table. If I made it to the door, she’d never catch me.

He glanced at the woman. But if she catches me. . . He shuddered. Isem braced himself against the table. On three. . .

The filming began last week after months of preparation. He was eager to get on with it. He was known for channeling a character so well that his physical appearance changed. He’d been making movies since his twenties, and was well known for a time. He was aging though, faster in movie life than real life. Even with filters and makeup and soft lighting, the camera picked up the worry lines, the softening of his features. He was 45, and no longer the big star. He’d been relegated to supporting actor by age and a fickle public. He didn’t mind, it was still absorbing and let him escape himself. He was spared most of the publicity obligations, where the media wanted the fresh face of the star sitting at their interviews. He didn’t get many people recognizing him anymore, because the public had moved on. He had a chance to start over.
—Amy Henry

Developmental Edit

I like the philosophical attitude of this character. I should be so philosophical!

Informative? check
Detailed? check
Raises a question? check Who is he?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check How is he going to start over?

What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? A 45-year-old male movie star is facing the decline of his fame due to aging. But he doesn’t mind. He still has work, and he likes the percs of greater anonymity. He is starting a new life.

Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? Well, he’s not unpleasant. But he doesn’t have a very complete personality yet, aside from his philosophical attitude toward his conflict. I’m interested in seeing how he reacts to something he’s NOT philosophical about.

Genre? Mainstream fiction?

Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? I’m interested in a few more concrete details. We know his backstory, but we don’t know much about him as a person.

Do we need to know what he’s going to do next? I’m hoping something unexpected. I’d like to be thrown into a scene where he shows us the things we’re being told.

Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? Not yet. We know he’s a week into filming a movie and several months into prepping for it.

So let’s talk about the structure of it. One note: numerals are spelled out unless they’re ridiculously long, like years.

Now, the character seems like a perfectly nice guy with a solid philosophical side, which is attractive. But this is mostly backstory. Can we make it shorter and snappier, while saving the backstory for later—or, better yet, set this up to illustrate the backstory in a scene—focusing right now on the most intriguing elements?

Copy & Line Edit

The filming had begun last week, after months of preparation. He had a chance to start over. He was eager to get on with it.

Dear Major Bradon,

I’ll keep this simple for you.

Technomancy: The fine art of combining science and sorcery.
Technomancers: People who manage to survive combining science and sorcery.

Did I mention that there aren’t that many of us?

We’ve been called many things over the years, alchemists, magicians… But don’t get hung up on whole ‘sorcery’ thing. Technology is what it’s really all about. Take a look at my business, I can apply occult biometrics to anything. Yes, even swords in stones, though I’d recommend sticking with more modern technology, it works better. Trust me, if Merlin would’ve had a chain gun with a biometric trigger-lock keyed to Arthur, he’d have used it. The crazy old codger would have loved the idea of guns.

I don’t think I need to tell you not to try this at home. Actually, don’t try it all, stick to the military. You’ll live longer.
—Angie Capozello

Developmental Edit

I love that Merlin’s gun would be keyed to Arthur. Terrific eye for the telling detail!

Detailed? check
Threatening? check
Raises a question? check Who’s threatening Major Bradon?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check Don’t try what at home?

What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? Major Bradon doesn’t understand Technomancers. In fact, it looks like he’s thinking about messing with them. Someone is warning him not to—on pain of shortening his life.

Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? I’m not completely certain what character we’re dealing with. I get the impression it’s not Major Bradon. It must be the anonymous author of the letter. They sound intelligent, creative, assertive, and a bit smart-aleck. I like that!

Genre? Fantasy, possibly sci fi, possibly violent with that reference to the military.

Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? We know quite a bit about this narrator, what they do, how they do it, why they’re squaring off against Major Bradon and his military. That’s great!

Do we need to know what happens next? I hoping we cut directly to a scene in which either the narrator looks up from writing the letter or Major Bradon looks up from reading it.

Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? Well, the personal address to another character tells us we’re in an exchange. So that’s immediate. But I’m hoping to meet a character directly any second.

So let’s talk about the structure of it. There is a problem here, and that is that agents and publishers don’t particularly like stories that start with letters anymore. I think it confuses them. Whatever the reason is, it’s a strike against you. And your hook is not a good place to have a strike against you.

There’s also the grammar in the first sentence about Merlin. This might very well be intended to illustrate the voice of the narrator, in which case we keep it. (But if it’s an author error, it needs to be corrected.)

Other than that, there’s a whole lot of information packed into character communication, with good motivation so it doesn’t sound contrived. And the narrator’s character comes through clearly. Excellent stuff!

Can this be made shorter and snappier, keeping the 1st-person address to Major Bradon without relying on a letter format?

Copy & Line Edit

I’ll keep this simple, Major Bradon. Don’t get hung up on the whole ’sorcery’ thing. Technology is what it’s all about.

Look at my business: a Technomancer can apply occult biometrics to anything. Yes, even swords in stones, although I’d recommend sticking with more modern technology than that. Trust me, if that crazy old codger Merlin would’ve had a chain gun with a biometric trigger-lock keyed to Arthur, he’d have used it.

I don’t need to tell you not to try this at home. Actually, don’t try it all.

Stick to the military. You’ll live longer.

To begin with, Marlowe was dead. The police dispatcher said that over the phone, when he broke into Ben’s sleep at five a.m., and the coroner’s assistant said it again, to Ben’s face. Marlowe had been dead at least seven hours, shot and dumped in a filthy alley.

The assistant was pear-shaped, dressed in a black suit, his short neck balancing a head that resembled a soft-boiled egg, gluey white and hairless. He stood beside a sleek dark van, meticulously placing thin metal instruments inside a black leather satchel. Two other vehicles—a brown sedan and a black and white police cruiser—stood at careless angles to the van. All headlights blazing, the three cars illuminated a small island in a sea of fog that filled the street. Red and yellow lights on the roof of the cruiser turned lazily, splashing the gray with murky color.
—Michael Wright

Developmental Edit

Great hook—”To begin with, the main character died.” Too bad for you reader people—now you have to keep reading to find out what happens after there’s nobody in the story!

Tense? check
Detailed? check
Raises a question? check Who killed Marlowe?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check Almost. We’ve gone from bright lights and efficient coroner’s assistants to gray murk, which is a good mood transition. We could use one more detail on the end to slam dunk us into the story. But there’s an interesting issue here that I’ll mention in the discussion on structure.

What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? A character named Ben has been waken by the police to go to the site of a murder and talk to the coroner’s assistant. Ergo: Ben is probably a detective.

Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? At this point all I know about Ben is that he’s willing to get out of bed at five a.m. and go downtown. But, considering how awful it is for me to get up at five a.m., I’m going to say he’s got the toughness and determination to keep my attention at least into the next page.

Genre? Mystery. The body’s a dead (excuse me) giveaway.

Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? I don’t. A mystery is about the crime. The detective is secondary. And so far, this mystery is starting out with a bang.

Do we need to know what happens next? I expect Ben to get some immediate, very pertinent clues. Most detectives at this stage examine the body.

Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? Absolutely. First we’re with Ben being waken by police dispatch, by the end of the sentence we’re being spoken to in Ben’s face, and then we’re with the coroner’s assistant on a foggy city street. You bet.

So let’s talk about the structure of it. First: a warning. If this Marlowe is THE Marlowe, this book had better be as well-written as Chandler’s. Otherwise you have a lot of company. Lots and lots of aspiring mystery writers try to include Philip in their work—it’s flattering to Chandler, but I have never, ever read one that worked. Just like using another writer’s song lyrics, if you are piggybacking on the fame of someone else’s creation, your creation had better be able to stand up to the comparison, or you’re cheating.

Second: I mentioned an interesting issue with the drop-kick category. It’s this: your hook doesn’t have to be 150 words long. I think you already have your hook, and it’s that first paragraph. See the drop-kick? Not only is Marlowe dead, Marlowe’s body had been dumped unceremoniously in a filthy alley—even worse than dead!

Can this be made shorter and snappier? I’ll tell you, I’d remove one comma before the phrase “in Ben’s face” and you’ve got your hook in the first paragraph. Excellent job! The faster you get to the drop-kick, the more powerful the hook. Suck that reader in! This second paragraph is actually the beginning of the story.

Just so we know that’s the hook, I’ll go ahead and tighten the second paragraph. Mostly, I’ll drop the words “careless” and “lazy.”

This is one polished piece.

Copy & Line Edit

To begin with, Marlowe was dead. The police dispatcher said that over the phone, when he broke into Ben’s sleep at five a.m., and the coroner’s assistant said it again to Ben’s face. Marlowe had been dead at least seven hours, shot and dumped in a filthy alley.

The assistant was pear-shaped, dressed in a black suit, his short neck balancing a head that resembled a soft-boiled egg, gluey white and hairless. He stood beside a sleek dark van, meticulously placing thin metal instruments inside a black leather satchel. Two other vehicles—a brown sedan and a black and white police cruiser—stood at angles to the van, all headlights blazing. The three cars illuminated a small island in a sea of fog that filled the street. Red and yellow lights on the roof of the cruiser turned slowly, splashing the gray with murky color.

It’s official—Wordpress reports over a thousand views of JUST YOUR HOOKS.

Not bad for only five days!

Thanks to all of you, and I hope you’re preparing your Pulitzer acceptance speeches.