Real Life Diagnostics: Does This Prologue Work?

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.

Submissions currently in the queue: One (UPDATE: Seven now)

This week’s question:

I've had enough conflicting advice about PROLOGUES to fill a bucket.

My prologue sets up events that will threaten the main character later in this Mid-Grade novel, and seems to be the best way to get this information across succinctly. But I've been told publishers don't like them and readers don't bother to read them.

My questions is: Have I included enough information about the conflicts ahead, and about the main character to make the prologue work as it should?

It's in Third-person omniscient POV, and chapter 1 is 1st person POV (the main character's voice, Kate McAlpine). The full prologue is 490 words.

On to the diagnosis…

Original text:
‘Please welcome our final entrant this evening. From Maddock’s Home for Abandoned Children ... Miss Katharine McAlpine!’

In the shadows at the back of the Bellbird town hall, Mr Roger Scrimshaw leaned his portly figure against the wall. As the curtains parted and a young girl stood frozen in the spotlight, he nodded with satisfaction.

Since the Great Depression had spread from the city to the bush, talent scouting along the dusty roads had been worth a bag of nothing. But maybe the dice would roll his way this time. With her high-cheekbones, her dark, luminous eyes and her long, braided hair as shiny as a new copper penny, the girl was striking rather than just pretty – perhaps striking enough to fetch a good price from a Sydney music hall. Would her voice be as good as Matron Maddock claimed?

The contestant took a deep breath and unclenched her hands. When her voice soared to the rafters, strong and perfect in pitch and melody, Scrimshaw grinned. The ballad of lost love and Irish fairs was difficult to execute, especially for one so young. Matron was right! The girl had the voice of an angel.

A bulky, white-haired woman in a dark, formless dress extracted herself from a seat in the front row and waddled down the aisle to stand beside Scrimshaw. He observed how the stage lights reflecting on her metal-rimmed glasses hid her eyes.

‘When do I get my money?’ Matron Maddock’s voice sliced through the applause as the girl skipped from the stage.

My Thoughts in Purple:
‘Please welcome our final entrant this evening. From Maddock’s Home for Abandoned Children ... Miss Katharine McAlpine!’

In the shadows at the back of the Bellbird town hall, Mr Roger Scrimshaw leaned his portly figure against the wall. As the curtains parted and a young girl stood frozen in the spotlight, he nodded with satisfaction.

[Since the Great Depression had spread from the city to the bush,] This was the only bit that jumped out at me. Everything else is solid and in the POV’s head, but this felt just a tad infodumpy. I'd suggest reworking to get rid of the "since" part of it talent scouting along the dusty roads had been worth a bag of nothing. But maybe the dice would roll his way this time. With her high-cheekbones, her dark, luminous eyes and her long, braided hair as shiny as a new copper penny, the girl was striking rather than just pretty – perhaps striking enough to fetch a good price from a Sydney music hall. Would her voice be as good as Matron Maddock claimed?

The contestant took a deep breath and unclenched her hands. When her voice soared to the rafters, strong and perfect in pitch and melody, Scrimshaw grinned. The ballad of lost love and Irish fairs was difficult to execute, especially for one so young. Matron was right! The girl had the voice of an angel.

A bulky, white-haired woman in a dark, formless dress extracted herself from a seat in the front row and waddled down the aisle to stand beside Scrimshaw. He observed how the stage lights reflecting on her metal-rimmed glasses hid her eyes.

‘When do I get my money?’ Matron Maddock’s voice sliced through the applause as the girl skipped from the stage.

The question:
Have I included enough information about the conflicts ahead, and about the main character to make the prologue work as it should?
I love the easy ones. I feel that this guy is up to no good. I don’t know if he plans to kidnap her or try to con her, or even go about this legitimately, but something feels amiss. You said the prologue is short, which I think will also work in your favor. The voice is good, the sense of foreboding is good, and I’m curious as to exactly what he’s going to do here. I don’t know if you clarify that before the prologue is over, but I hope not! That question is what hooks me. Does “fetching a good price” mean he’s going to sell her or is that a finder’s fee? I wanna know!

But let’s look at the pieces individually:

The Conflicts
As I said, he’s up to no good, so I do see conflict here. I’m worried about the girl and just what he has planned. I want to know what he plans to do. How this plays out is very likely going to be what the book is about. I can see where the story is going even if I don’t know the details. So yes to this.

The Main Character
All I know is that she sings and she’s pretty, so no, I don’t know much about her. However, I don’t think I need to know much about her, because it’s Scrimshaw’s scene. My focus isn’t on her at all, but on him and what he’s up to. And if the goal is to make me worry and wonder, you’ve done that.

As for prologues in general…
Prologues are disliked by so many because they’re often done badly. They’re too long, filled with backstory and setup, and don’t feel connected to the story. This one reminds me of a prologue that worked that agent Kristin Nelson talked about for Brooke Taylor’s book, Undone. It hits a lot of the same key points. It also reminds me of the little asides from Roland Smith’s I.Q. series, where we got to see the bad guys from time to time. Both examples worked, and I think this does the same for you. Readers, what do you think? Yay or nay on this prologue?

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 feedback.