Sodding technology

Technology frustrates me so much. I’ve no patience. I’ve been known to unplug the printer and threaten to throw it across the room. I haven’t yet followed through on this, but I’ve come close to it. I am aware however that a simple act like this could make me come across as a complete psycho. ‘Charles Dickens didn’t have this sodding problem,’ I mutter.

Let me tell you about the printer, the device I was hoping could produce quality print-outs, so that Mr Big Agent would be really impressed. It’s manufactured by a very well known company and I was impressed with the sales advisor’s pitch when I went in search of a new model.

‘Yes it churns out fifty pages a minute or something like that,’ he said.
‘Wow,’ I replied. ‘I’ll take it.’
‘The print quality’s great too,’ he added.
Better still, I thought. Mr Agent won’t need his glasses as he squints at the botched printing. He’ll be impressed with the quality of the pixels and the glorious sheen, so much so, he’ll e-mail me back and ask me the name of the manufacturer.

(As I drove home, with the printer in the boot, I cast my mind back to the good old days. I got a typewriter from Santa for Christmas 1983, when I was eight. And I loved it. Each night I diligently sat at the breakfast bar and created beautiful asymmetrical lines of:

QWERTYUIOP
ASDFGHJKL
ZXCVBNM

If I made a mistake, I borrowed my mum’s special rubber and erased the mistake. The page, when complete, was so pleasing to the eye. It was the most beautiful square.)

Once the new printer was rigged up, I tried to print my fifty pages/first three chapters. But the useless lump of a thing kept sucking the pages back in, creating a big blob at the bottom of each page. I ended up with thirty spoiled sheets. I was convinced it did this deliberately.

‘Sorry, trees,’ I whispered as I loaded yet more sheets into the tray.

At that point, I wanted to kick the printer, pull the leads out of the back and hurl it across the study. Deep breath.

I think it’s a problem we all encounter at some point in our writing lives – the inability of technology to co-operate. I am comforted by the fact it’s a universal problem. But it sucks up so much time. If only we could journey back to pen, paper and Tippex.

Not impressed with this printer*

*I could be doing something wrong. In all honesty, it’s probably not a manufacturing fault and more to do with the fact I refuse to read installation and instruction manuals.

It was on special offer though and the cynic in me believes that this is the shop’s way of clearing out what falls short of the mark.

First Impressions

Have you ever been on the end of a cringeworthy chat up line? You know the type: "Get your coat love, you've pulled" or the one that I married, "Dance with me. I'm avoiding the girl behind you." Well, they say first impressions count...

As writers, we are so often told about the importance of the first three chapters, the first chapter, the first five pages, the first scene and indeed the first line. While thinking about today’s post, I ran my fingers along the spines of my bookshelves and pulled out a few of my novels. The intent was to read the first few pages of each book again, but in fact, I found myself getting hooked on the real first impression, that is the very first line. And it proved to be a totally fascinating exercise!

Here are a few examples and my instinctive thoughts on reading them:
1. “The boy followed the guard along the corridor, watching the sway of his wide backside and the belt with its handcuffs and baton and the big bunch of keys that jangled as he walked.” (Extract from ‘The Brave’ by Nicholas Evans)

Nicolas Evans' first novel, “The Horse Whisperer” is still one of my favourite books. His use of imagery without being too weighed down by a multitude of words had me hooked from the start. Here in his latest novel, which by the way I haven’t read yet even though it’s on my bookshelf, hints at things to come. A fairly long first sentence, delivering two potential characters, one obviously a policeman and one a child/boy already gives us a hint of Evans’ style.

2. “Gradually, Caroline returned to her senses.” (Extract from ‘The Legacy’ by Katherine Webb)

A debut multigenerational drama, which made its way to the TV book club selection and was, as a result, a huge success. Though there’s not a lot revealed in this first line, I still want to read on. I want to know who Caroline is and what had happened her.

3. “Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.” (‘Emma’ by Jane Austen)

A big yay for Miss Austen! God, she used a lot of words to say - Emma at twenty one had so far led a charmed life! I do love her books, but wonder even in today’s historical fiction genre if a debut author with such a first sentence would get past the slush pile intern?

4. “It happened every year, was almost a ritual.” (‘The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo’ by Stieg Larsson)

The first in the first book of his Trilogy. A brief sentence, but clever in that we want to know what ‘it’ is straight away.

5. “Two men, who were brothers, went to Suffolk” (La’s Orchestra Saves The World by Alexander McCall Smith)

I guess I ask the question, ‘why’?

6. “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again” (Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier)

I’m not sure why, but this is one of my favourite first lines!

7. “ They said I was a drug addict” (Rachel’s Holiday by Marian Keyes)

The Queen Keyes... She is, in my humble opinion, the queen of chicklit/women’s drama fiction. And just as I was thinking there’s obviously a trend in short snappy sentences with recently published commercially successful books – I check the inside cover of my well thumbed copy, only to see it was published in 1998! Bang goes that theory...

All in all, a fascinating exercise and one I recommend doing particularly if you’re writing in a certain genre. Check out a few of the competition's first sentences? Of course the exercise wouldn’t be complete without reviewing both my as yet unpublished novels and fessing up to their current first lines. (Would YOU read on??!!)

‘Journey To The Monkey Nut’ - “My husband is a philanderer,’ I answer her question.”
‘Plumb Crazy’ - “I follow Mama into the garden.”

What have I learned? Well over six hundred words of a post and all I can tell you is I seem to favour short snappy opening lines! And that I've decided to use that chat up line of my husband's as the opening for a future piece. Think of the variations that could follow, "Dance with me. I'm avoiding the girl behind you..."