From Elizabeth Leslie:
When I saw him shot through the head, it was unexpected, but it was less of a surprise than one might think. I had seen it before. It was always the same. Driven by some reflexive impulse I couldn’t seem to overcome, I looked up and followed the trajectory from which the shot must have originated.
But there was nothing there.
People spilled sideways, parting like the sea to make space for a strange man lying motionless on the pavement. What had been a single crowd of persons moving in a uniform pattern towards their various points of destination split down the middle so that a single tear was visible in their formation. As was generally the case, I was the only one who stopped. I always stopped. Even if I couldn’t look, I stopped.
Developmental Edit
This hook is packed to the gills with questions—good job!
Tense? check
Intriguing? check
Raises a question? check check: Who got shot? Why isn’t anything at the source of the bullet’s trajectory?
Drop-kicks us off the end? check check: Why doesn’t anyone else stop? (Why is that generally the case in this character’s experience?) And why can’t this character look sometimes?
What does this paragraph tell us about the book we’re starting? A character with a background in analyzing shooting scenes comes across someone shot through the head on a busy sidewalk and is the only one to stop. And there’s no evidence where there should be evidence.
Do I want to follow this character through a whole novel? I’ll follow them to the next page, at least. They’re rather blase about shooting victims and can’t look at certain things, and that’s intriguing enough to keep me going.
Genre? Mystery? Thriller? I’m guessing maybe a paranormal element because it turns out there’s nothing where there ought to be something. It might also be futuristic sci fi, since this character’s from an environment in which it’s normal for pedestrians not to stop for a dead body.
Do we need to know who the character is, how they got here, where they were before? Well, I’m okay with this amount of information for now. But there should be more pretty quick. Particularly, I think we should know why pedestrians in this world don’t normally stop for something like this.
Do we need to know what the character’s going to do next? I’d like to know why they can’t look sometimes. That seems paramount, considering this time they looked at both the bullet wound and the trajectory.
Does this paragraph drop us right smack in a specific moment in this character’s story? Indubitably.
So let’s talk about the structure of it. The first sentence is a bit awkward. And there’s a problem with the use of the word “trajectory,” since a bullet doesn’t originate from its trajectory. I’m a bit confused by the descriptive paragraph, too, because it seems to be from high above the protagonist. Can this be made shorter and snappier, while clarifying the language?
Copy & Line Edit
It was unexpected, but it was less of a surprise than one might think. I had seen it before. It was always the same. Driven by some reflexive impulse I couldn’t seem to control, I looked from the man on the pavement with a bullet in his head to the point at which the shot must have originated.
But there was nothing there.
People spilled sideways, parting around the body. As was generally the case, I was the only one who stopped. I always stopped. Even if I couldn’t look, I stopped.