New York Write to Pitch "First Pages" - 2022, 2023, 2024
A forum for New York pitch event alums to post samples of their scenes and prose narrative for detailed critique according to Algonkian Author Connect guidelines. Emphasis on choice of set, narrative cinema, quality of dialogue, metaphor, static and dynamic imagery, interior monologue, general clarity, tone, suspense devices, and routine line editing issues as well.
258 topics in this forum
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My son killed my wife, so I never cared about being his father. I couldn't remember the last time such a small physical act like a hug, or even a tender touch on the boy's shoulder, came naturally or willfully. This basic skillset existed in other parents. I know because I've studied them at kindergarten drop off and pick up, but my own gestures with Savion felt forced like a skill that never properly developed. Even though my son never knew his mother, Imani, they somehow shared mannerisms like the way they each bite their lower lip when nervous, or how they always let a laugh linger longer than what seemed appropriate for the situation. In those moments, I’d be reminded…
Last reply by Sharon Rodriguez, -
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1996 Like many young couples without kids, there was a part of their house that was hardly ever used. The hallway leading to the rooms that would eventually hold children, one room was currently the catch-all and the other was supposed to be an office but sat dusty and silent since the couch and kitchen table had better natural lighting from the living room windows. Their future, their hopes that somehow the laughter of children on this side of the house would one day heal them and make this a home, lay here. So this hallway was an odd place for them to be that night. Leo was holding Kate by her throat up against the wall. She was taller than usual, the for…
Last reply by Sharon Rodriguez, -
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The attachment includes my first two chapters introducing the protagonist and one of the antagonists as children. Note, many of these scenes were sprinkled as backstory in past iterations, but I found it slowed the pace and some of my betas felt more inclined to want to be in the moment of the two opposing forces in a crucial school shooting scene (rather than backstory). Though 95% of the book is about the main characters as adults, I felt the reader needed to experience the tragic event in real time with the characters. The school shooting immediately follows these pages. Many thanks Daryl NYPPITCH--PROSE SAMPLE-PERIMAN.gdoc
Last reply by Daryl Periman, -
A Date With Lima: True Crime Writing Sample Introduces protagonist, antagonist, setting, and conflict Chapter 1: Contempt One Day Missing It was a pleasant, harmless, sunny day in the Gold Coast on the North Side of Chicago—an elite neighborhood on the border of Lake Shore Drive, along Lake Michigan. I had moved into the condominium in 1993, with my two young daughters, from an apartment that was less than a block away. On the corner of Burton and State Parkway—a block from the Cardinal mansion on North Avenue, bordering Lincoln Park. My recently ex-wife, Brigitte, had planned to take my two daughters to Kassel, Germany, to visit…
Last reply by Norman Miller, -
She popped a Xanax, leftover from her friend Louie’s stash, took a double shot of Jack Daniels and boarded the red-eye flight at JFK to Vegas. There, a black car service was to pick her up at the airport, head two and a half hours to The Green Door in Death Valley, California, arriving in time to make the retreat’s kick-off event. Cassandra would arrive the next day. The Green Door’s lobby buzzed with excitement. Lavender and tea tree oil, musky perfumes, expensive perfumes, swirled through the air. Rosie’s nasal passages tingled, overwhelmed by all the scents. A whiff of her day-old body odor, a stale stench of airplane clung to her skin and clothes. And there was …
Last reply by Steve Dunn, -
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SECOND SCENE. Follows the Prologue, which has minimal dialogue. The Prologue features the main character sitting in his father's office contemplating suicide. Then the narrative jumps back in time to the beginning of the story that will lead him to that tragic moment/state of mind. It is a morning like any other morning when it all changes. Or, rather, it does not change. The undaunted and undauntable world, such as it is, was created longer ago than we dare comprehend by forces far greater than our poor power to manipulate. It is only that the late surface matter is scoured away and the skeletal truth revealed through white fire and through clouds of bilious hellsmo…
Last reply by Steve Dunn, -
- 1 reply
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CALAIS JUNGLE July 1, 2016 Stolen Soap Far from the tents and stalls of Calais Jungle, a water spigot stands in a field of flowers. Freydun makes his way past refugees from hot troubled lands toward a language school near the faucet. He is eager to learn the French words he’ll need to make a life in this country with its damp air and people with pale hairless arms. Freydun lopes and slows, afraid to misread what’s before him. He thought he knew his motherland until it turned on him; now he is in France, ceding one fate for another, straddling East and West, swapping privilege for privation. He had no choice. Next to him is his fri…
Last reply by Carmen Gray, -
He’d been assigned as their group advisor from the start of her program. He was older than them by decades but his boyish cropped hair, lithe frame, the way he adjusted his glasses to sit just so on the bridge of his nose, the way he folded his sleeves up perfectly and fixed that tuft of hair with vanity, his quick wit, the way he used catchphrases from their generation in perfect tandem with paternal truisms…all made him a favorite with almost everyone. But of all these little things dwarfed in comparison to the way he yelled her name across the hallways. Waking up late that morning and being off schedule, not even having the time to get a quick bite to eat from th…
Last reply by unwritten, -
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[Below and attached] Chapter 1 I like it when it is dark and rainy. Why? I don’t know. I like the night. Why? I don’t know. December, Present Day, The Newseum NOTHINGNESS. She is one heartbreak away from death. Before she realizes it, Francesca’s dangling finger listlessly traces the edges of the image before her. It traces the circle of his face, gliding up and around his body as if she were touching him one more time. But it is not Adiv. It is the picture that remains the cover photo on her phone. She traveled long distance on Southwest Airlines for three years. Lived with him for two years. Fiv…
Last reply by Zansler, -
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PDF of my novel's first chapter. Enjoy! ;-) 01. The (No) Mercy Academy.pdf
Last reply by ArrowAzzo, -
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- 364 views
Early on the morning of June 13, 2022, Jake MacKay walked through the mist of Dunrobin Castle’s hedged gardens. The twin spired castle was the northernmost in the Scottish Highlands, a white fortress jutting from the hillside against the sea. Jake crossed the vast lawn to the wooded spot, where the caged birds of prey watched, their heads pivoting— massive eagles, falcons owls. He found Tavish Kerr, the falconer, in his thatched hut picking over rabbit parts for the birds on a long table. Older now, stooped— still with his worn, tweed cap, he nodded. "Today is the day." He sized up Jake. "You shrank.” “I lost my rugby weight a long time ago.” …
Last reply by Tom Jessiman, -
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Killing The Game Michael Martin Crime drama, opening scene: Introduces protagonists, setting, tone, and foreshadows the primary conflict. Chicago, Illinois. The Present. Friday had not been the best and that was before a squad car appeared behind me, electric blues ignited. Heart into chest. Being reasonably certain I hadn't broken any traffic laws, the squad probably meant one thing: Lieutenant Kinchloe wanted me. I had so hoped those days were over... Lieutenant Kinchloe was convinced I killed my wife. But he couldn't prove it. But man did he try. For me that meant hours being subjected to the type of mental torture that is legal …
Last reply by Michael M, -
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First 2 chapters introduce setting, main protagonist and main antagonist, set tone and foreshadow the primary conflict. Create sympathy for the protagonist as he tries to “save the cat.” CHAPTER ONE Behind the cover of a tree, Olaf watched the humans soar through the night on their broomstick. The baby’s laughter had attracted him—distracted him from foraging for food. It sounded like the chirping of baby birds, even sweeter than blueberries. The adult female carried the baby, and a hunk of metal which glinted in the moonlight. She was tall, taller than Olaf when he stood on his hind legs. She had a lot of unruly orange fur on top of her …
Last reply by Patti, -
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On Saturday night, right after Shabbos, I had the good luck to receive a phone call from Yoni, an old friend who was visiting his parents. It was mid-December, I hadn’t gone to shul that Shabbos and didn’t know that he was in town. The Rothman’s house still had the Shabbos smell of chicken soup and chulent. Yoni was leaning back on the couch, one of his arms around Deet. She was wearing a red skirt that only reached her knees. Her legs were bare. Yoni had put on some weight since I’d last seen him two years ago. His pants and shirt fit him too tightly. When he half-stood up to welcome me, arms open to give me a hug, I thought that at least one of the buttons w…
Last reply by Yosef, -
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My favorite stories are the ones that begin with a raised eyebrow and some old man sayin, “You cain’t make this shit up.” Them kinda tales everbody wants to hear, cause there’s always someone who don’t want ‘em told. Not me. I like true stories, and I can already tell this is a good’un in the makin. Hard not to be, beins Mr. Jackson’s done drawed a syringe full of sleepy juice for his tranquilizer spear. First time I’ve ever seen one in real life, cause lord knows Kendall don’t believe in nothin but sweet words and a curry comb when it comes to breakin cattle. Big pussy. “Stick ‘im, Jackson!” And…bingo. Ewww-weee. Popped ‘im right square in the neck vein. M…
Last reply by wesnolen, -
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CHAPTER 1 It was raining again. Shango could smell it in the hot air before he felt the droplets from the holes in the canvas roof. It was the acrid smell worming its way through the slits in the tent that had woken him in the first place, just like it always woke him when the wind changed direction. Despite his youth, he often wondered why it rained the way it did. Are the fields burning again? Or did they never stop? It had rained on and off for the better part of three months. Nearly as long as his refugee camp had stood. News had reached the camp just before the rains began that the fighting had cro…
Last reply by RolandH, -
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TERROR UNDELETED CHAPTER 1 Why bloody fingerprints on that note from his dad? Now was the wrong time to ask—a smear of senseless... as senseless as killing men he knew nothing about. But here he was. They moved up across the park-side to the back entrance, the one where the dope-fiends gathered in a tight company of pissy whiffs and shit-talking with hands…. The fiends made way without a third thought, keeping their chatter steady and casual, as the hooded men wedged through, guns downward…. Nico counted four men, between his own desperate heartbeats, himself included. Being 14 didn’t matter now. …
Last reply by Cavis Adams, -
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I smiled as my arrow lodged in the goblin’s skull. It dropped to the arena’s sandy floor with a grunt, a lifeless heap of metallic armor. I notched a second arrow and drew, searching for more enemies. Fortunately, I didn’t have to look hard. Hundreds of the ugly green creatures swarmed into the coliseum from all sides, completely surrounding me. Their snarls drowned out the cheers of the crowd, both of which were united in wishing for my gruesome death. The goblin horde paused about ten feet away, their disfigured faces sizing me up like a double bacon cheeseburger. But I wasn’t afraid. I had an ugly, hungry companion of my own. My best friend, Henry Lee. …
Last reply by Reed Blanchard, -
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Oslo Jones felt the mule stumble beneath him. Its breath came in wheezing burbles. Another day’s ride and it would be completely lame. His teeth gritted against that future. They had been together since he left home. He thought of their nights under the stars. He thought of their days passed on empty stomach. He thought of their kinship, completely unfettered by questions. Oslo loosened his grip on the reins and sighed. There wasn’t far to go now. An intruding wind picked up and trail dust surrounded them in dancing plumes. Carried on a stiff breeze, those dust clouds could taunt a rider for miles.…
Last reply by Osahon Okundaye, -
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~ prologue ~ The tightly-bound shackles left a ring of rust on her wrists. The pounding in her head felt as if a string of bombs were being set off in her head, the pounding almost drowned out the sounds of the unpleasant whispers surrounding her. Her legs and feet ached from having stood against a post for days on end, the common punishment for someone awaiting trial on the Skeltu planet. The woman wanted to cry in agony of the severity of her situation. She could feel the stares of the rest of her species piercing into her. Their gazes were sharp and cruel. She didn’t dare make eye contact, as she couldn’t bare the sight of distaste that everyone seemed to ha…
Last reply by Danielle Emefiele, -
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Chapter 1 Colony of Maryland Late August 1751 For the second time that day, Colonel Benjamin Tasker, Jr. saw a dark-skinned man in deerskin pants dash across the road and disappear in the trees a short distance ahead of him and Dancer, his gray stallion, while they traveled to Bel Air. Not so much a road, but more of a wide muddy path that cut through the wilderness, serving travelers from Annapolis to outlying settlements and estates. The man was shirtless and hawk feathers decorated his long black hair. An Indian, very likely a Piscataway. A sizable population of them still lingered more than a century after the landowners had established their presen…
Last reply by Melanie_Richardson, -
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Chapter 1 There was a knock on the door, but Blair didn’t look up from her desktop. Moments later, another knock forced her hazel eyes to roll. “Tessa?” Blair called to her assistant who was putting together the new white leather couches for her office. “Yes Miss?” Tessa stood immediately, smoothing out her clothes as she spoke. Tessa has only been Blair’s assistant for a week. She had applied hopeful, but didn’t expect much other than a phone call saying she didn’t qualify. She, after all, did come from the scheduling department, which everybody knows is the bottom tier job at The Circle. Blair often refers to them as “sadly necessary.” But Tessa is young…
Last reply by Mackenzie Eaton, -
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Chapter 1 2017 Asmara I stopped by the maternity ward to do my morning round with the three medical students and a resident. The women lay under white sheets in two rows along either side of the room, with light blue curtains, now wide open, separating each patient. When we reached Miriam's bed, I watched as they presented her. She had been in the hospital for two weeks, but today she seemed flushed; her hands and face appeared more swollen. I asked Miriam how she felt. "I am fine, I think. Although, I do have some cramps," she said, hands running over her belly. I bent to examine her. "Are you having pain now?" "No, just last night." …
Last reply by Agoitom, -
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May 27, 1905 The White House grounds were redolent with the scent of cherry blossoms, fresh-cut grass and something distinctly….mechanical. Alice Roosevelt wrinkled her nose. The pungent odor reminded her of kerosine. Alice trotted to the fence surrounding the property, peering through the iron bars. No motorcar accidents on H Street. Alice’s long-haired chihuahua, Leo, scurried over and dropped off a stick. Alice dutifully tossed it while checking her watch. Maggie would arrive soon to pick her up for tonight’s party. Too bad they were in Washington, D.C., instead of New York. Everyone in the Capitol stared at her like the prize cow at a state fair. Leo …
Last reply by James Holland, -
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• INCITING INCIDENT – Foreshadows primary conflict, introduces secondary characters and setting. New Guinea, 1944 Lush tropical humidity swirled lazily, engulfing the pristine white beach. Frigate birds glided like calm kites, soaring with their great majesty over indigo waters. Flying rainbows of lorikeets flitted through the dense rainforest edge. Coconut palms flap-flapped their giant leaves, their fringy leaflets twisting gently this way and that. Waves broke out on the reef without much force during low tide. The intense beauty and tranquility of the island was the stuff of postcards. Piles of reef fish—samut and jamgunmari—glistened in a hand-hew…
Last reply by Laura K Marsh,
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