First Page Critique - My Achilles Heel

This weekend I’ll be attending my first SCBWI writer’s conference since I moved to North Carolina. It’s been far too long and I’m really looking forward to some serious writer chat, attending workshops and snagging something sweet to counter the inevitable three o’clock downslide in between breakout sessions. What I’m not looking forward to, what I’m really quite indecisive about is if I’m going to plunk down a first page for critique.

I might schedule a Brazilian bikini wax for that time frame instead.

I know what you’re thinking…Critique WUSS!

Guilty.

Let me tell you a little something about myself…I don’t have a p-p-p-poker face. More like heart on my sleeve. I break out in welts. Bite my lip. Do that toe tapping/knee jumping thing that can make objects near me shake uncontrollably. In short, I’m a mess – and this is while I’m waiting! All of that worry just in case my page gets picked to be read, and then oh, the horror – if it does? It is not a learning experience for me it’s more like taking a shot of espresso with a Red Bull chaser and then sprinting around the block three times. Yes, seriously folks, it’s that much of a physical discomfort for me. And I stay flushed for hours.

Not pretty.

Which is why I don’t do them – even though, yes, I know it’s the coward’s way out. And yes, once upon a time when I was a fresh faced noob – I did participate.

When I first joined SCBWI at the turn of the century, I aspired to write picture books. I had quite a few manuscripts and one pretty close to my heart – about the Man in the Moon. (I bet you’re shaking your head and getting that “oh, ick! I see where this is going” feeling right about now)

There were no talking moon animals. I did not try to tackle this in rhyme. I thought I was completely clever. Fresh. Original. Enter the firing squad of the first page critique session. Dun, dun, DUUUUN. After it was read out loud, the editors sat there stony faced for a very, long, uncomfortable second. The editor who was unlucky enough to be holding the microphone had the expression of someone who was left holding the hot potato as the music stopped. No one wanted to take this one. Murmurs and quiet laughter through the crowd ensued. It was awful – even though it was anonymous. I think someone finally did take the mike, made a comment that was mercifully tactful and the next first page was read.

The few people from my writer’s group who did know the page was mine, rallied around me and said nasty things about the naysayers as any good friends would but the damage had been done. The Man in the Moon and I parted ways, never to see each other again. And yes, the world is probably a better place for it. But still…

A writer’s conference should be a place where we leave inspired not defeated. That first page session happened to be at the end of the day, and wow, I wanted to quit. Truth is the editor was right in her comment. The story, at least at that point, was plot less but after that not so warm reception – I had no desire to see it through and went on to work on something new. So maybe I did learn something, albeit the hard, humiliating way – not all ideas are going to fly and sometimes you just have to move on.

Years later, I’m concentrating on longer fiction. My heart feels right in YA and I keep looking at the first page of my new WIP and wondering…should I? Or am I just once bitten, twice shy? What would you do? And how do you feel about infamous “first page sessions”?