You only get one chance to make a first impression. This is
true in nearly every situation, from work to parties to first dates. It is also
true of stories.
I’ve heard a lot of talk about the first lines of stories—how
important they are, how they need to hook the reader, how they should
effectively introduce the story, establish a unique voice, be surprising,
etcetera, etcetera. And all of that is true. But I’ve also met so very many new
writers who’ve gotten a little too consternated trying to write the “perfect”
first line. I find that, more and more often, the only advice regarding first
lines that I want to give to people is this: calm down.
First lines are like titles: if done well, they can hook the
reader’s interest from the get go. Sometimes they just pop immediately to mind,
and other times the writer really has to dig and work to find a good one.
Sometimes writers knock it out of the park; more often, they simply manage
something adequate. But even if first lines and titles are only average, most
readers and editors will continue to give you their attention for at least a
little while longer.
So yes, first lines are important; but they’re not worth the
headache that many writers devote to them. There are only a few basic rules
that I would suggest that you follow when writing the first lines of your stories:
Make sure that they
are free of errors. Almost no editor or reader will set down your story
simply because the first line didn’t “grab” them. But if you have grammar or
punctuation errors in the very first
sentence of your story, that will make them wary.
Don’t let them run
on. As I’ve mentioned before, long sentences are both more difficult to
properly construct and more difficult for your readers to follow. Asking your
readers to swallow a massive amount of information at the very, very beginning
of your story is a bit of a tall order. Try to give them the new information
and introductions a little bit at a time.
Make sure they are on
topic. Sometimes, in their quests to create engaging first lines, writers
wander a little too far from their story. They begin on a largely unrelated
topic and then wander from there to the story. The problem is, if that first
line is so very engaging, your readers will only feel cheated when they find
out that it has nothing to do with the actual story. Not a good way to gain
fans.
That’s it.
I’m not saying that you should ignore all the other “first
lines” advice out there. If you can craft a pertinent first line that is funny,
intriguing, or fascinating, that’s great! That’s desirable and impressive; good
for you. But here’s the thing: what is funny, intriguing, or fascinating to one
person won’t be that impressive to many others. I can’t tell you how often I’ve
had other people show me “amazing” first lines that I just wasn’t that
impressed with. I’ve been completely floored by amazing first lines that other
people just shrugged at with a “meh.” Almost no first lines will be amazing to everyone or even most everyone, so don’t break your brain trying too hard to amaze
and wow. As long as you follow the tips above and don’t write anything that
will actively repulse readers, you’ll be fine.
Now, this may or may not be a helpful illustration, but I
found it fun. I’ve spent quite a bit of time browsing through the first lines
of books and short stories, especially ones from very successful books. I’d
like to share a few here. I think that, like me, you’ll see that many first
lines are impressive, while others are simply quietly competent. Some hit you
with a plot hook, while others simply begin a slow process of easing you into a
long story.
In making this list, I have avoided all of the “classic”
first lines that these lists usually cover. I love the first line of Pride and Prejudice and am
less-than-wowed by the famous first line of Moby
Dick. But this list is more focused on the first lines of modern stories
that have come out in the last few decades. How are today’s writers—your contemporaries—beginning
their books?
Mr. and Mrs.
Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were
perfectly normal, thank you very much. (Harry
Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by J.K. Rowling)
Robert Langdon
awoke slowly. (The Da Vinci Code by
Dan Brown)
When he woke in
the woods in the dark and cold of the night he’d reach out to touch the child
sleeping beside him. (The Road by
Cormac McCarthy)
“We should start
back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them. (A Game of Thrones by George R. R.
Martin)
The trial was
irretrievably over; everything that could be said had been said, but he had
never doubted that he would lose. (The
Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson)
When I wake up,
the other side of the bed is cold. (The
Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins)
My suffering left
me sad and gloomy. (Life of Pi by
Yann Martel)
I became what I
am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975.
(The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini)
CLARE: It's hard
being left behind. (The Time Traveler’s
Wife by Audrey Niffenegger)
My mother drove
me to the airport with the windows rolled down. (Twilight by Stephenie Meyer)
Late in the
winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably
because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the
same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my
abundant free time to thinking about death. (The Fault in Our Stars by John Green)
The palace still
shook occasionally as the earth rumbled in memory, groaned as if it would deny
what had happened. (The Eye of the World
by Robert Jordan)
Look, I didn’t
want to be a half-blood. (The Lightning
Thief by Rick Riordan)
When I think of
my wife I always think of her head. (Gone
Girl by Gillian Flynn)
At night I would
lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my
bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a
high-pitched zzzzzz that hummed along
my skin. (The Secret Life of Bees by
Sue Monk Kidd)
It was night
again. (The Name of the Wind by
Patrick Rothfuss)
There is one
mirror in my house. (Divergent by
Veronica Roth)
I have never been
what you’d call a crying man. (11/22/63
by Stephen King)
Mariam was five
years old the first time she heard the word harami.
(A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled
Hosseini)
Kalak rounded a
rocky stone ridge and stumbled to a stop before the body of a dying
thunderclast. (The Way of Kings by
Brandon Sanderson)
Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world. (Eragon by Christopher Paolini)
There is no lake at Camp Green Lake. (Holes by Louis Sachar)
Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world. (Eragon by Christopher Paolini)
There is no lake at Camp Green Lake. (Holes by Louis Sachar)
See what I mean? I’m sure some of those really grabbed you;
others not so much. And I’ll bet the ones that impressed you aren’t all the
same as the ones that impressed me. But all of those books were widely-read to an extreme degree. So don’t fret too much about your first
lines; they won’t usually make or break your story.
Hi, I'm writing my PhD at the moment, and I've always suffered from first lines -fear. Recently I've started to do some "free writing" every time before starting with the real text I'm working on. I give myself five minutes to write whatever pops into my mind, and I really mean whatever, nobody is going to read these "five minute texts" anyway. This method seems to be useful for me, I feel like it lowers the bar and makes easier to start writing the actual text.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a useful method. Thanks for the tip!
ReplyDelete