Dreams of fame and fortune aside, when you write a novel, you have two interdependent goals: to transfer the story in your mind to your reader's mind as accurately as possible and to satisfy the reader. Simple as they sound, too many writers fail to achieve them, resulting in a story that's unclear, unsatisfying, or both. This especially true for first chapters, which are by far the most important part of any novel. They're essential when it comes to setting up your story as well as selling your book.

Putting yourself in your reader's place is critical when it comes to reaching these goals. However, there's no way to truly know how well readers are able to capture your story unless you ask them. As you know, reader feedback is essential. What you may not know, is that recklessly requesting comments will result in feedback that's at best, worthless and, at worst, counterproductive. Here's how:

You give your first chapter to a fellow writer, friend, or loved one to read. They do, maybe because they genuinely want to or maybe out of some sense of familial obligation or camaraderie—it doesn't matter, they finish it, and they'll almost always say some version of "I enjoyed it," or "It was good." You could smugly move on, but most of us will reasonably ask them to expand on their thoughts in an attempt to improve our work. Now, they’re forced to remember what they liked about it. This retrospective rationalizing takes them further and further from their authentic reader response as they dissect it, looking for evidence to back up their original claim.

In short, their response to your first chapter differs from a reader who finds your work organically. Their feedback, while well-meaning, comes from a participant in an analytical state, as opposed to the natural reading process. Genuine, real-time reader reactions are far more useful when it comes to testing your work, and that's where retelling comes in. Retelling offers a far better way to see whether your first chapter is compelling and meets its three goals: establishing the world and characters, seeding the conflict and theme, and providing an inciting incident that confirms the genre while driving future action.

For example, a typical comment goes, "You need a better hook," which is really an opinion. Retelling allows you to see whether the reader is hooked—a fact. To be clear, readers aren't students; you're not testing them on their understanding of your novel. Instead, feedback tests you— the author, determining how effectively you wrote your story.

Let's restate your overall goals—accuracy and satisfaction—from the perspective of a first chapter. First, a reader has to be able to recreate your first chapter accurately; they must grasp the story that you intend to tell. Second, the chapter has to be satisfying to the reader yet leave them wanting more. To determine how well your chapter achieves these you need a willing reader—ideally, one who is unfamiliar with your novel and also a fan of your genre. Then, and this is vital, provide minimal, simple instructions. Remember, you want them to read your first chapter as naturally as possible, as if they just downloaded it to sample. Say something along the lines of "Please read this, and then I'd like to ask you a few questions." Then, let them read at their own pace and arrange to talk soon after they finish. Ideally, you'll be able to watch them read and talk to them immediately after, though the method still works if you can't.

Find a comfortable setting where you can see their face—video chat is fine. Ask for their permission to record the conversation; most people will be less on edge with audio rather than video recording. When it comes to reading, you should also observe them indirectly, so they won't get anxious. After reading, it's better to have a second volunteer available to ask questions for you so that you can focus on observing them to collect "meta" data about how they say things to add to what they say. These are emotional indicators covering the reader's reaction to your first chapter. Smiles, pauses, eyerolls and enthusiastic gestures, for example, tap directly into feelings and help you understand how effective your story is. Better, these responses provide a much more reliable evaluation than written, or even verbal, responses.

Remember not to lead your reader, or pull them into an analytical frame of mind. All you need to ask them is: "Please retell what you read, in your own words." Reassure them that this isn't a test, and there's no hurry. Don't interrupt them while they retell to reinforce this point. Once they've clearly finished, ask further questions, called probes, keeping in mind your goal of avoiding rationalization. In other words, avoid opinion questions such as "did you like it?" Instead, use this opportunity to assess their recall of the three first chapter essentials, especially if they didn't make it into the retelling. For instance: "Please describe the protagonist as best you can."

One crucial question you should always ask is, "What do you think will happen next?" This question gets to the heart of whether your first chapter was compelling. You'll know you've hooked them if they enthusiastically guess where the novel is headed. If they say they don't know or hesitate and make a tentative response, it's time to make substantial revisions. You should also be concerned if their guesses don't match your intentions because a faulty prediction means dissatisfaction down the road. At Bardsy, we see the first chapter as a promise of what is to come. Readers won't buy your book, especially if it's a debut novel, if they don't have a clear sense of its value.

As you determine your story’s conflict, you must also consider your story’s theme—the message you want the reader to take away. It could be that love conquers all or the importance of recycling, but in order for your story to be cohesive, the theme and conflict must be intertwined. During the first chapter, you'll want to present your story's theme and—the same way you introduced your story world—build upon chapter one's foundation with each subsequent chapter. Themes make stories a richer reading experience, providing depth that resonates with readers, assuming you aren’t heavy-handed when executing them.

Participants tend to have a ten minute attention span, so be sure you don’t drill them for more than that. Most importantly, though you'll be tempted to jump in or clarify, never, ever interrupt them. Encouraging head nods from you can help alleviate their anxiety, but that's all. You need to listen to what they say, not defend your work. In this context, what they say adds value while what you say detracts from it. The bottom line with all writing is that only the words on the page matter. Moreover, it's not this draft's words, only the words in your polished manuscript. When you feel the need to jump in—and you will—note your reaction as a priority for revision.

This type of feedback is the closest you can get to being inside your reader's mind. Even if the outcome of the test isn’t what you’d hoped for, remember to be appreciative and thank your volunteer for helping you. Feedback is a gift and should be treated as such.

If you’d like to learn more about collecting useful feedback via the retelling method and how to write a first chapter that will delight your readers, sign up for our upcoming workshop. Love From the First Line: Writing a First Chapter Readers Can't Resist. This 90-minute workshop teaches you how to structure a first chapter that leaves readers eager for more and avoids common pitfalls that make readers close books.

Our next first chapter workshop is on September 17th, 2024, at 4 pm Pacific. Spaces are limited, so claim your spot today! Note: if you aren't a Bardsy member, you'll need to create a guest account, then click the shopping cart icon in the top right corner of the page. Contact live support at (213) 465-0885 if you need assistance.