Took my rewritten first chapter of Deeptower to writer's group last night. (Deeptower is a sequel to a book I wrote 30 years ago which I still think has possibilities...)
The group quite rightly tore it apart.
The motivations of the main character weren't clear, in fact I didn't give the reader much reason to care about him.
But even as they were critiquing, I was getting a sense of how to fix it.
More and more I'm realizing what is needed in a book. Especially the beginning. I just have to keep doing it until it works.
Meanwhile, despite every intention of waiting until Friday before I started my sequel to Led to the Slaughter. (Working title, Gold Fever -- which isn't unique enough, but need something...) out squeezed the first couple of paragraphs. Kind of weird. Couldn't help it.
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