I think the main problem with this is that you don’t catch the reader’s interest fast enough. Ideally, your very first sentence or two should make the reader hooked. Various collections of good opening lines have some great examples of this: 123 If that doesn’t work, at least make them interested by the end of the first paragraph.
In your piece, by the end of the first paragraph we know that the main character is the crown prince of Mars in what seems to be a rather generic sci-fi/space opera setting. That was still pretty much all I knew by the end of the fourth paragraph, at which point I started skimming. If this was a book I was looking at in a store (or reading a sample of on my Kindle), I’d have put it away at that point.
The main issue seems to be that the characters seem quite bland. If you look at those collections of great opening lines, nearly all of them say something about the characters that make them seem fascinating enough that even if the author doesn’t always do a good job of keeping the story interesting, the reader is willing to tolerate that because they want to find out more. Like the my second link describes the opening line of One Hundred Years of Solitude, “that’ll buy at least a hundred pages of curiosity.” Simply knowing that the crown prince is bored isn’t enough to make me curious, nor to make me care about him—which means that I have little interest in reading forward. By the end of your piece we start to find out things about the characters, but it’s too little, too late.
Yeah, that’s very possible. A story can be good even if there are people who don’t like it. :-)
Though upon reconsideration, I do have to soften my judgement a little. That the first sentence says that the prince is auditioning for a mistress is interesting, and could have managed to get my interest if it had been followed up on quickly enough. But there’s something about his boredom that’s catchy—he’s bored with the ceremony, so the reader gets bored with it as well. Or something, I’m not sure how reliable my introspection is here. :-)
I suspect you’re picking up on the same thing that drethelin did: the heavy exposition dump that comes right at the beginning.
Some of that can and will be smoothed out, but yeah, the interest at the beginning is mostly supposed to come from the setting and the culture. So the reason I actually suggested the story is not for you was your offhand reference to “generic sci-fi/space opera setting.” If you’re sick of sci-fi and space opera conventions—if you’re not the kind of reader who’s approaching the set-up with some degree of interest just because, “cool, it’s Mars, let’s find out how things work here, hunh, the Sleepers, what are they, they’re not really dragons are they, that would be stupid—whoa, what’s happening here, was that telepathy-via-bacteria? Gonna have to see how that’s handled before I decide what to think of it...”
If you’re not that kind of reader, then the story probably isn’t for you.
I suspect you’re picking up on the same thing that drethelin did: the heavy exposition dump that comes right at the beginning.
That sounds right.
If you’re sick of sci-fi and space opera conventions...
Hmm… yes and no.
I’m perfectly willing to read/watch/play space opera if it’s executed well. For example, despite having heard it praised for long time, I never got around watching Firefly until a few months back. When I finally did, I loved it. Also, right now I’m playing a character in a game that’s set in the Warhammer 40,000 universe, and finding it enjoyable. Heck, I’ve been known to still buy the occasional Star Wars novel.
So it’s not like I’d get an instant allergy from anything space opera-ish. But at the same time, you’re right in that I don’t have an intrinsic interest in exploring the details of just any space opera setting (or just any fantasy setting, for that matter) - I’ve seen enough of them that most of them tend to register as “just the same old”. Telepathy-via-bacteria is a neat and pretty original idea, but by itself minor enough detail that it doesn’t make the entire setting interesting. Being shown that the setting incorporates a dozen (or even half a dozen) other ideas on the same level of neatness and originality would be another matter. Alastair Reynolds’ Revelation Space setting strikes me as fresh and original, even if one might reasonably argue that he doesn’t really have that many original ideas in his world. It’s all in how you combine them.
I don’t count a setting registering as “just the same old” (JTSO) as a minus by itself, and I can grow attached even to a rather generic setting if the characters or the writing is good enough, but it’s not a plus either. On the other hand, even though a setting being JTSO isn’t a minus by itself, it’s often a warning sign. There are more mediocre sci-fi authors than great ones, and mediocre sci-fi authors often tend to have rather generic-feeling settings. So if I see a story start with what seems like a generic setting, and it isn’t accompanied by clearly exceptional writing, my instinct tends to be to assume that this is a mediocre work. I think my judgement might have been subconsciously influenced by that as well.
I think the main problem with this is that you don’t catch the reader’s interest fast enough. Ideally, your very first sentence or two should make the reader hooked. Various collections of good opening lines have some great examples of this: 1 2 3 If that doesn’t work, at least make them interested by the end of the first paragraph.
In your piece, by the end of the first paragraph we know that the main character is the crown prince of Mars in what seems to be a rather generic sci-fi/space opera setting. That was still pretty much all I knew by the end of the fourth paragraph, at which point I started skimming. If this was a book I was looking at in a store (or reading a sample of on my Kindle), I’d have put it away at that point.
The main issue seems to be that the characters seem quite bland. If you look at those collections of great opening lines, nearly all of them say something about the characters that make them seem fascinating enough that even if the author doesn’t always do a good job of keeping the story interesting, the reader is willing to tolerate that because they want to find out more. Like the my second link describes the opening line of One Hundred Years of Solitude, “that’ll buy at least a hundred pages of curiosity.” Simply knowing that the crown prince is bored isn’t enough to make me curious, nor to make me care about him—which means that I have little interest in reading forward. By the end of your piece we start to find out things about the characters, but it’s too little, too late.
Of course, in sci-fi you can substitute interesting characters with an interesting setting, but there was little in the setting to make me curious, either.
I hope this doesn’t come off as too harsh. Hooking the reader from the start is difficult, and I struggle with it myself.
It doesn’t come off as harsh—but it does sound as if this story falls into the broad category of “not for you”.
Yeah, that’s very possible. A story can be good even if there are people who don’t like it. :-)
Though upon reconsideration, I do have to soften my judgement a little. That the first sentence says that the prince is auditioning for a mistress is interesting, and could have managed to get my interest if it had been followed up on quickly enough. But there’s something about his boredom that’s catchy—he’s bored with the ceremony, so the reader gets bored with it as well. Or something, I’m not sure how reliable my introspection is here. :-)
I suspect you’re picking up on the same thing that drethelin did: the heavy exposition dump that comes right at the beginning.
Some of that can and will be smoothed out, but yeah, the interest at the beginning is mostly supposed to come from the setting and the culture. So the reason I actually suggested the story is not for you was your offhand reference to “generic sci-fi/space opera setting.” If you’re sick of sci-fi and space opera conventions—if you’re not the kind of reader who’s approaching the set-up with some degree of interest just because, “cool, it’s Mars, let’s find out how things work here, hunh, the Sleepers, what are they, they’re not really dragons are they, that would be stupid—whoa, what’s happening here, was that telepathy-via-bacteria? Gonna have to see how that’s handled before I decide what to think of it...”
If you’re not that kind of reader, then the story probably isn’t for you.
That sounds right.
Hmm… yes and no.
I’m perfectly willing to read/watch/play space opera if it’s executed well. For example, despite having heard it praised for long time, I never got around watching Firefly until a few months back. When I finally did, I loved it. Also, right now I’m playing a character in a game that’s set in the Warhammer 40,000 universe, and finding it enjoyable. Heck, I’ve been known to still buy the occasional Star Wars novel.
So it’s not like I’d get an instant allergy from anything space opera-ish. But at the same time, you’re right in that I don’t have an intrinsic interest in exploring the details of just any space opera setting (or just any fantasy setting, for that matter) - I’ve seen enough of them that most of them tend to register as “just the same old”. Telepathy-via-bacteria is a neat and pretty original idea, but by itself minor enough detail that it doesn’t make the entire setting interesting. Being shown that the setting incorporates a dozen (or even half a dozen) other ideas on the same level of neatness and originality would be another matter. Alastair Reynolds’ Revelation Space setting strikes me as fresh and original, even if one might reasonably argue that he doesn’t really have that many original ideas in his world. It’s all in how you combine them.
I don’t count a setting registering as “just the same old” (JTSO) as a minus by itself, and I can grow attached even to a rather generic setting if the characters or the writing is good enough, but it’s not a plus either. On the other hand, even though a setting being JTSO isn’t a minus by itself, it’s often a warning sign. There are more mediocre sci-fi authors than great ones, and mediocre sci-fi authors often tend to have rather generic-feeling settings. So if I see a story start with what seems like a generic setting, and it isn’t accompanied by clearly exceptional writing, my instinct tends to be to assume that this is a mediocre work. I think my judgement might have been subconsciously influenced by that as well.