Wisconsin wineries, mischief-makers since 1972…

As writers, we hear all the time that we’ve got to hook readers in just the first few pages or else. We’ve got to hook agents in the first few pages or else.

Whether you’re looking to get published or just hoping to hook your reader, first impressions are vital. Compelling opening scenes are the key to catching an agent or editor’s attention, and are crucial for keeping your reader engaged.
JEFF GERKE, THE FIRST FIFTY PAGES

This month I snagged from the New Release shelf:

Fear the Reaper by David Housewright

David Housewright has a NUMBER of books in his Rushmore McKenzie mystery series–in fact, this seems to be the 25th installment, if I’m skimming the works page correctly. That means I am already going to look at the opening pages with a grain of salt. There shouldn’t be a whole lot of backstory that has to get established at this point because readers have been solving crimes with McKenzie for ages now. It’s on me for coming very, very late to the party.

So in the initial pages, we see that St. Paul, Minnesota-based McKenzie is on a getaway in the wilderness of northern Wisconsin with his wife and friends. A city detective in a super-rural setting should promise some interesting conflicts and insights, right?

Sadly, I didn’t get that far.

The first paragraph is fairly solid: we’re learning things about a gunman that are not characteristically seen at the crime scene of a mass shooting. Then we backtrack an hour to the scene of the crime, a winery in the middle of nowhere that McKenzie and Co. are visiting. A little bit of backtracking is okay, but then the next page is spent backtracking into McKenzie’s childhood. What does the relationship and age difference of his parents have to do with why he’s visiting a winery? One could say it’s why one member of his company’s been like a surrogate mom. Yes, Housewright says that in a single sentence.

And then he goes on and on for another massive paragraph about it.

The pacing here is strange, almost like the prologue bait-and-switch I loathe so much. The first paragraph promised action, but the following paragraphs meander into irrelevant exposition, dialogue that repeats what was already covered in exposition, and confusing dialogue about who’s actually talking.

I suppose what really grinds me about this is the fact that we are in a twenty-somethingth installment of this series. Details like this have more than likely been dropped about his family. Why bring it up now, let alone on page 2??? If this information is truly relevant to the story, wouldn’t it make more sense to use a moment of slowed momentum for more focused dialogue about his life?

Now, I did peek, and the shooter shows up on page 6. That may not seem like much of a wait, but frankly, it could have happened sooner. Sure, a police detective is automatically going to survey his surroundings, and he’s going to make connections to the incident report in his head while he’s recounting events. But that’s what makes those detours into childhood even stranger–they are completely off-task from reflecting on what’s happened.

Everyone’s got their clunkers. I’ll never read certain Poirot novels by Dame Agatha Christie because they weren’t even her B-Game (I’m looking at you, Hercule Poirot’s Christmas). Maybe this McKenzie installment is the Poirot Christmas of David Housewright’s series. There’s probably a good mystery in there, but I’m just too annoyed by these opening pages to find it. You might dig it, though, and that’s fine, ’cause we’re all gonna love what we love. Maybe next month we will find something a little more spooky because fall is almost upon us. It cannot come soon enough.

Let’s see what next month’s find will teach us, shall we?

Coming up, I’ve got a resource recommendation, a few more interviews, some exploration through soundscapes, and more. Stay tuned!

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!