Dare to Read

January 16, 2012

The King in the Stone – Teaser

 

 

by Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban

 

 

Writing the first chapter of a sequel is tricky.

You must give enough background information on your characters and their stories so that new readers can follow. Yet, you don’t want to over explain for you risk boring those who’d read the first book.

But because so many things have already happened before the sequel begins, (enough to fill a whole book, as a matter of fact) and these things define who your characters are and where they stand now, to hit the right balance is difficult, and the first chapters can drag a little.

That’s why it’s so tempting for the writer to add a teaser before Chapter One.

And by a teaser I mean an action scene from further on in the story, that will lure the reader to stay with you through those slower first chapters.

I don’t like teasers when I am the reader. Yet, I must confess I have written one for The King in the Stone. Whether I will include it or not in the final version I do not know.

In the meantime, here it is for your enjoyment.

Hope you like it.

The King in the Stone

Teaser

 

A flash of lightning shatters the sky and, almost immediately, the deafening explosion of close thunder shakes the ground. Startled out of her trance, Andrea looks up. Dark clouds, heavy with rain, have turned the day almost to night, dressing in shadows the valley below and hiding the peaks across the ledge from where she stands.

As if waking from a dream, Andrea takes in her surroundings, surprised to find herself  by the tomb of the unknown king, for she has no recollection of climbing the mountain. The last thing she remembers is Kelsey’s voice, so eerily clear through the phone even though she was six thousand miles away, telling her about Julián.

Andrea moans at the memory and, bent in two by the sudden pain twisting her stomach, leans forward. Images of the man she has tried so hard to forget flash through her mind. Julián bleeding in her arms, an arrow through his chest. Julián by the broken arch telling her how much he loves her. Julián rejecting her, stealing the ring from her finger . . . From the slab that covers the tomb, the lying figure of the king carved in the stone stares at her with unseeing eyes.

Another lightning flash streaks the sky and the earth trembles under her feet as thunder rolls once more over the mountains. Heavy drops fall on her face, washing away her tears.

Andrea forces her mind to reason. She has no claim over Julián. He broke their engagement and made it clear he didn’t want to be with her. That was the reason she left California these three weeks past. Whether he’s with Kelsey now or with somebody else should make no difference.

But it does. She can’t lie to herself. She’s hurting too much to pretend anymore. The truth is that moving to Spain has changed nothing. She has not forgotten Julián. His memory has haunted her dreams every night, stolen itself into every one of her waking thoughts.

Her hands clenched into fists, Andrea hits the stone, swearing at Kelsey for her betrayal. How could she? Kelsey is her cousin, her confidant. Kelsey knows how much she cares for Julián. How much she wants him back.
Not anymore. Knowing he doesn’t love her is one thing. Learning he is with Kelsey quite another. Now, at last, she will forget him.

She turns her back to the tomb, and starts toward the trail. But the rain has turned the soil to mud, and, losing her footing, she falls face down.

Spitting water and dirt, Andrea scrambles to her feet. By the light of the next lightning flash, she sees the gap on the mountainside, an open mouth calling to her, and dives through the sheets of water pouring from the angry sky toward the wall. The rope she remembers from the previous evening is still hanging down into the cave. She grabs it in her slippery hands and climbs down.

She has barely reached the ground­­—welcome, dry ground, firm under her feet—when the mountain shakes again. Andrea stumbles and, falling on her knees, raises her arms over her head, a weak protection against the gravel falling around her like solid rain.

When the noise finally stops and Andrea opens her eyes, the cave is in total darkness. Has she gone blind? she wonders as she fights back her fears. I’m not blind, she reassures herself. That’s absurd. But if she isn’t, why is it so dark?

She looks up, squinting her eyes. But it’s useless: no ray of light steals through the wall of rocks. The opening is gone. Of course, the thought breaks into her mind. The earthquake has provoked a slide and closed the entrance.

A wave of panic washes over her as she realizes she’s on her own. No one will ever come looking for her. Why should they? She told no one where she was going when she left. She’s buried alive, and this cave, up in the mountains of this world that is not hers, will be her grave.

Andrea screams, a name, a broken word, a feral cry for help that, as she feared, dies unheard against the cavern’s walls.

 

October 2, 2010

Would You Read More?

Filed under: On Writing — carmenferreiroesteban @ 12:08 am
Tags: , , , ,

by

Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban

To tease or not to tease that is the question. Whether to hook the reader on the first page with a teaser, the introduction of a later scene where the life of the protagonist is in jeopardy, or to trust the reader to give you time to build the setting, the characters, the conflict at your own pace?

The purist in me think it’s cheating to do the former, and yet …

In the old times, when Jane Austen, Charles Dickens and Bram Stocker weaved their classic tales, teasers did not exist. The writers took their time to tell their stories with detailed descriptions, beautiful prose and long paragraphs, seldom broken by dialogue. And the readers stayed with them.

But in our times of twitter, text messaging, and Netflix, readers, teenagers specially, are not so patient. They give you one page tops before tossing the book for the easiest thrill of any of the a fore mentioned devices. So to add a teaser to hook the reader seems to me, an inevitable evil.

Stephenie Meyer did so in her Twilight series, and no one will argue, it worked well enough. She called it a Preface, not a teaser. But in that, she’s wrong. For as Wikipedia tells us “A preface (…) is an introduction to a book (…) (it) covers the story of how the book came into being, or how the idea for the book was developed. (…)” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Preface).

Yes Ms. Meyer was wrong. But who is complaining? The teaser, by any other name, accomplished its mission: to hook the reader.

And so it is that after giving it a lot of thought, I have decided to start my new YA fantasy with a teaser, not because I don’t trust the intelligence of my readers but because I recognize the pressure this vapid, high speed culture sets upon all of us.

I leave you then with my teaser (see below) and the question every writer asks, Would you read more?

They talk in whispers around me as we do around the dead, out of respect, I guess, or out of fear that our words would bring them back. But I’m not dead. I hear them and could, if I so choose, answer the ladies’ questions and join them among the living. Instead I block their voices and retreat inside my mind, to Father’s room, to the moment I first saw Mother’s broken body lying still against the wall, and the King’s guards, dragging Nowan away.

“He killed the queen,” Father says.

His laborious breathing is in my ear, his hands heavy on my arms, restraining me as if he fears that, left unchecked, I would run to him, to the boy who just killed Mother. But his fears are unfounded. I will not protect Nowan. Not after what happened this morning, not after I learned his love for me was but a lie.

My eyes follow the boy. There’s blood on his white shirt, blood on his hands, and a stream of blood runs from his nose, but there is no hate in his eyes now, no will to kill, only despair.

I look away from him and run towards the hearth, towards the place where Mother lies, calling her name.

“I should have killed him,” Father says, his voice hoarse with hate. “I should have killed him long ago, the day he first defied me.”

I hold Mother’s body in my arms, so foreign already in the stillness of death, and wish he had.