Real Life Diagnostics: Opening With the Funny

Real Life Diagnostics is a recurring column that studies a snippet of a work in progress for specific issues. Readers are encouraged to send in work with questions, and I diagnose them on the blog. It’s part critique, part example, designed to help the submitter as well as anyone else having a similar problem.

If you're interested in submitting to Real Life Diagnostics, check out the page for guidelines.

This week’s question:

I just began work on a new novel about a week ago, so I'm glad to have the opportunity for some feedback on the opening. It has no working title just yet. The genre (unless some crazy idea occurs to me to completely change my outline) a comedic general fiction work. Does this opening work?

On to the diagnosis…


Original text:
Violet Abraham’s eyes watered, the product of the twenty pounds of cheese turning her messenger bag into a public health hazard. She’d read somewhere before that the smell of frying cabbage scientifically approached the level of hazardous air pollution, but cabbage had nothing on casu marzu. It stood proudly as the kingpin of evil dairy products.

Her feet swooshed across the thin carpet lining the jet bridge, and she searched for a restroom in the vicinity. The cheese had smelled a little on the short plane ride from Sardinia, but her seatmate from Rome and the flight staff had likely already alerted airport security about the unholy stink emanating from her luggage after eight hours in the air. Times like these, she hoped people just assumed she refused to wear deodorant and had horrible body odor. At least if she could get to a toilet — a bit of privacy behind closed doors — she could rewrap the packages and dampen the reek.

Not that she wanted to be face to face to with naked casu marzu and its cargo of maggots. She nearly gagged imagining the wriggling white larva looping and tunneling through the putrefied Pecorino. She’d come close to vomiting when the stooped cheesemaker had presented it to her with a flourish, his toothless smile like a gaping hole in his face almost as terrifying as the cheese itself.

Almost.

She’d been a procurer of things, odd foods that people wanted or needed, for five years, but this had been the worst job by far — the stupid maggots needed oxygen to survive, and Anthony Carluccio had been adamant. “No maggots, no final payment . . . ya unnerstand me?” he’d said, waving his hands, laying on his thick South Philly accent, and leering at her. Being the head of an underground eating club in the city required him to be a douchebag, apparently.

My Thoughts in Purple:
Violet Abraham’s eyes watered, the product of the twenty pounds of cheese turning her messenger bag into a public health hazard. LOL cute She’d read somewhere before that the smell of frying cabbage scientifically approached the level of hazardous air pollution, but cabbage had nothing on casu marzu. It stood proudly as the kingpin of evil dairy products.

[Her feet swooshed across the thin carpet lining the jet bridge, and she searched for a restroom in the vicinity.] Perhaps move this line to the end of the para? Maybe after “odor?” I stumbled a bit on the transition here. I also think the plane ride line fits nicely to carry over the idea of the opening para and let the reader know she’s in an airport The cheese had smelled a little on the short plane ride from Sardinia, but her seatmate from Rome and the flight staff had likely already alerted airport security about the unholy stink emanating from her luggage after eight hours in the air. Times like these, she hoped people just assumed she refused to wear deodorant and had horrible body odor. At least if she could get to a toilet — a bit of privacy behind closed doors — she could rewrap the packages and dampen the reek.

Not that she wanted to be face to face to with naked casu marzu and its cargo of maggots. Ew. Perhaps a tiny bit of explanation here as to why there are maggots. I gather from the rest of the passage that they’re part of the cheese, but it comes across as rotted food for a paragraph and that might turn folks off She nearly gagged imagining the wriggling white larva looping and tunneling through the putrefied Pecorino. She’d come close to vomiting when the stooped cheesemaker had presented it to her with a flourish, his toothless smile like a gaping hole in his face almost as terrifying as the cheese itself. This is (no pun intended) personal taste, but the maggots in this paragraph turn me off. It’s just a little too gross for me. Not everyone will feel the same way of course, but you might consider a way to make this more accessible. Perhaps add a little more humor from Violet to balance the ick factor?

Almost.

[She’d been a procurer of things, odd foods that people wanted or needed, for five years, but this had been the worst job by far] telling just a bit here. It’s not bad and you can probably leave as is, but you could also make it stronger by shifting it more in her head. — the stupid maggots needed oxygen to survive, and Anthony Carluccio had been adamant. “No maggots, no final payment . . . ya unnerstand me?” he’d said, waving his hands, laying on his thick South Philly accent, and leering at her. Being the head of an underground eating club in the city required him to be a douchebag, apparently.


On to the question:
Does this opening work?
Yes. I like the voice in this, and the idea of this poor gal hauling ghastly cheese from Italy is pretty funny. That one maggot paragraph felt a little off to me, but it didn’t keep me from reading past it. It might keep others away though (I've read plenty of times about agents who passed on something that grossed them out), so the author will have to decide how far to push that. 

I don’t yet know what the problem is going to be, but I suspect when she unwraps that cheese there will be dead maggots and get her into trouble with her client. Or she'll get into trouble at the airport over this. I'm not sure exactly what will happen, but there’s something to make me curious about what happens next. The concept is also rife with potential conflict. A woman whose job it is to get strange things opens up a lot of problems, so if things are okay with the cheese, I suspect she’s about to get a very strange request to get something.

Why this works:
What hooked me about this opening is the voice and the situation. There was humor, the writing flowed well and I felt in the head of Violet. It's third person, but there's a character here and a nice mix of narrative and internalization so I feel that I know Violet a little even though we've just "met." Her goal is small (to deal with the smelly cheese) but she's has one driving the scene and it's clearly going to lead to something larger. I don't yet know what that is, but I don't need to at this point. Things can go wrong and the situation can get funnier so I'm willing to go along for the ride.

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they – and others – find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) so feel free to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive comments.