Presently, I’ve got a challenge running here where you come up with an opening line to a story that hasn’t yet been written. It has attracted quite a few entries so far, as you’ll note.
I do love the topic of opening lines — on one hand, they’re important in that they’re the first impression a reader gets when opening your book. On the other hand, it’s easy to make too much hay of them: an opening sentence is perhaps less important than an opening page or chapter.
Just the same, let’s assume they’re of some importance.
If you’re comfortable doing so, drop an opening line (i.e. first sentence) from a current (or already written) WIP into the comments below. Then feel free to jump in and talk about the opening lines of others. Do a little quid pro quo critiquing. Also feel free to discuss what makes a good opening line, or what some great and memorable opening lines were from books you loved.
What works? What doesn’t?
See you in the comments, word-nerds.
Paul Mannering (@paul_mannering) says:
The Asian across the table from me is tearing great gobs of warm flesh from his girlfriend’s neck.
April 14, 2014 — 12:18 AM
david says:
Cool. Try replacing great with away.
April 14, 2014 — 8:05 AM
Noel says:
It’s a good image. I wonder if you want a noun after “Asian”? Partly, it would clarify a little what we’re looking at and who the narrator is (Asian man, vs. Asian kid, Asian gentleman, Asian guy–they all give slightly more about both the narrator’s diction and the scene), but also, there’s just something icky about identity-adjectives that get turned into nouns. Seeing one in your first sentence would make me uneasy about reading the book.
April 14, 2014 — 12:07 PM
RSAGARCIA says:
If you have a certain kind of tone, ‘Asian’ by itself will work. But I do think the two suggestions you have already are good ones. And I liked this on the whole, particularly if you take up the suggestions.
April 14, 2014 — 12:15 PM
Bryce Anderson says:
You’ve posted the “Here There Be Horror Genre” sign right on the front gate, in big letters. I do appreciate that.
April 14, 2014 — 2:39 PM
Paul Baxter says:
At first, I read this as the Aslan across the table, and started imagining a very different The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
April 16, 2014 — 6:34 PM
jbiggar2013 says:
Noticing her husband busy with guests on the other side of the room, Sara Sheridan excused herself from the Senator and his wife, seized the opportunity and edged out of the half-filled dining room.
So what do you think?
April 14, 2014 — 12:21 AM
whimsyandmetaphor says:
I like it – but I wonder if it would be better cut off after ‘Senator and his wife’. I’m generally from the school of thought that the less information conveyed at once, the clearer the remaining information will come across.
April 14, 2014 — 12:26 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
thanks, good point
April 14, 2014 — 12:28 AM
Whimsy and Nonsense says:
I like how it gives me a very clear idea of the setting and what to expect. It’s a little bit of a mouthful though, so you might keep the same ideas and just reword it so it’s more smooth.
April 14, 2014 — 12:55 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
Thanks, appreciate the input, 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 12:57 AM
Steven Cowles says:
I think that she should seize, excuse and then edge – partly because she presumably excused herself to make that exit after she notices her husband and partly because “Sara Sheridan seized” fulfills my alliterative junkie needs.
April 14, 2014 — 1:01 AM
Cat York says:
This is what I’m thinking too. You can smooth it out. Great set up, with good info.
April 14, 2014 — 8:24 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
Thanks Cat, I’ll tighten it up 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 1:34 PM
jbiggar2013 says:
lol, thanks Steven, you’re right sounds better your way.
April 14, 2014 — 12:36 PM
sarazaske says:
I think it’s OK, a little long – but it’s not much of a “grabber” . I don’t feel compelled to read on. Maybe something more urgent compels her to leave the Senator and his wife?
April 14, 2014 — 2:22 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
Perfectly good opening to a contemporary story. No, there’s nothing ‘grabby’ about it, but every first line doesn’t have to do that. I expect more to grab me as the story moves along. If there’s nothing special after the first page or so though…
April 14, 2014 — 12:16 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
I like it — and I think it works even better with the tweak down below re: being an alliteration junkie.
April 14, 2014 — 2:31 PM
Bryce Anderson says:
Not particularly grabby, though showing her schmoozing in the halls of power, but eager to escape, is fairly interesting.
April 14, 2014 — 2:41 PM
Tan Wilkins says:
I wonder if it is necessary to ‘edge’ out of a half-filled room? … if she wants to slink away unnoticed, possibly say ‘and made her way out of the half-filled dining room’
April 14, 2014 — 9:55 PM
jbiggar2013 says:
thanks Tan, I wanted to portray the fact that she wanted to leave without her husband noticing. 🙂
April 15, 2014 — 6:27 PM
Paul Baxter says:
That’s a LONG prepositional phrase to start with. You’re thirteen words into the sentence before you’re introduced to its subject, Sara. And the room must be really important; you mention it twice in one sentence.
April 16, 2014 — 5:09 PM
jbiggar2013 says:
Thanks Paul, appreciate the input
April 16, 2014 — 5:57 PM
ZMX says:
A cleaver came down into flesh and bone; a young woman with a mangled cleft palate and a milky dead eye cried out; a young man with a burn-scarred face and a crushed cheek raised brooding eyes with lenses of black ice; an old woman with fearful, tragic eyes gasped and put a trembling hand to her mouth; a yellow dog with the mange blinked one eye and lifted its chin from its paws.
April 14, 2014 — 12:23 AM
deanmcsmith says:
Very very busy, with too many powerful images for the reader (by which I mean me) to actually process at once. I feel that the images, and the characters that drive them, deserve a paragraph each at least to show their relationship to the first act and why its important to them.
April 14, 2014 — 7:47 AM
Cat York says:
Agree with Dean. “A cleaver came down into flesh and bone.” is enough to grab my attention. The rest will work better if you break it up and hint to readers who is witnessing this intriguing imagery.
April 14, 2014 — 8:22 AM
david says:
Points for originality
April 14, 2014 — 8:24 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
Too much information. If you cut off at the first phrase and replaced ‘A cleaver’ with ‘The cleaver’, I’d probably sit up more. Particularly if you suggest that flesh and bone is human.
April 14, 2014 — 12:18 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
BANG! I’m down with the imagery, but owch. Way too much of it right here. Four uses of eyes — is that part of the hook?
April 14, 2014 — 2:32 PM
thelizwithzombies says:
Excellent use of semi colons!
Further into the book, I think a sentence like this could work provided this is your natural voice (which I suspect it is). I do think it’s a little too many images to hold right off the bat though. I suggest breaking it down.
“A cleaver came down into flesh and bone; a young woman with a mangled cleft palate and a milky dead eye cried out.”
It’s not even that you have five phrases attached to the same sentence, but those phrases themselves are also very complex images. If you want to include all five phrases for style purposes, then I suggest making these images short and harsher.
I really like the eloquent yet brutal tone you have going here. I don’t mind doing some work as the reader if the story moves me. I’m intrigued.
April 14, 2014 — 2:56 PM
ZMX says:
Thanks. Actually, it’s not really a first line per se. Those are essentially four epigraphs that come prior to the first line, written like a poem. In fact, those lines are repeated later in the Chapter as sentences–as the action is happening, putting them into perspective. The POV is very detached, so the reader doesn’t realize what is going on at first. They get it when the Chapter and the scene culminate with the sentence…..The room was redolent of dead fish and childbirth.
April 15, 2014 — 1:20 AM
Mike W. says:
It certainly grabs my attention, but way too much description for each of the characters. The description is good (I like “lenses of black ice”), there’s just a bit too much.
April 14, 2014 — 2:58 PM
Lee Thompson says:
Wasn’t sure if we were supposed to drop our line in the post you linked to or this one. Dropped it over there, but will here as well, just in case. Thanks, Chuck. First lines are fun. Here’s mine:
Up until last week I’d thought the worst night of my life was when the O’Connell brothers nailed my dad to a tree.
April 14, 2014 — 12:24 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
Nice job Lee, 🙂 That got my heart pounding!
April 14, 2014 — 12:27 AM
whimsyandmetaphor says:
Agreed with jbiggar – this is great.
April 14, 2014 — 12:30 AM
grfrazier says:
Wow, good one. Shocking and intriguing.
April 14, 2014 — 12:36 AM
Jimmie says:
Well, now I really want to know how this night topped that one.
April 14, 2014 — 12:38 AM
Eugene C Scott says:
Engaging.
April 14, 2014 — 12:40 AM
Whimsy and Nonsense says:
Holy crap, that one got my attention! Good one.
April 14, 2014 — 12:56 AM
Erik Storey says:
Off and running, Lee. That’s how it’s done.
April 14, 2014 — 1:06 AM
Steven Cowles says:
That’s a sweet opening line which has instantly set up some antagonists and promised the audience something worse than being nailed to a tree. Cue imaginations running riot.
April 14, 2014 — 1:36 AM
sarazaske says:
Now this is a grabber! I might just tinker with it a little, maybe lose the “I’d thought” and perhaps be more specific about the time instead of comparing a week to one night. Should it be a night to a night? As in “Until last night,” or Saturday night or Tuesday night… etc. 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 2:27 AM
fadedglories says:
Loved it. Sounds like the opening to a gangster story. Is it?
I hope this goes on to show how the O’Connells were repaid in kind.
April 14, 2014 — 4:01 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Yep – that one definitely got my attention! Now I need to know more – ’cause I’m guessing these O’Connell boys didn’t do it as a jolly jape, yes?
April 14, 2014 — 7:03 AM
Melissa says:
I love this one. It would definitely capture my attention to keep reading!
April 14, 2014 — 10:32 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
I really like this. Almost have a character’s voice in mind already. Good job.
April 14, 2014 — 12:19 PM
Noel says:
Awesome.
April 14, 2014 — 12:32 PM
Kathleen S. Allen (@kathleea) says:
Agreed. It’s awesome.
April 14, 2014 — 2:24 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
…absolute killer. LOVE it.
April 14, 2014 — 2:33 PM
Percy Kerry (@percykerry) says:
“Wait!” I yell, as I run inside a dark tunnel. By dark I mean absolute, pitch darkness ahead of me, which seems to consume me as I seem to run deeper and deeper into its heart. The only sound I can hear is the clacking of my boots on the ground as I run hard.
April 14, 2014 — 12:25 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
Good job Percy, I would only tweak it a little. How about, “Wait!” I yell, as I run into the soulless darkness of the tunnel.
Then you could cut the next line and it would read better, in my opinion. 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 12:35 AM
Whimsy and Nonsense says:
It grabs my interest. I wonder what you’re running to or from. Try not to use the word run too many times.
April 14, 2014 — 12:57 AM
Cat York says:
This is what I saw too. The idea and the action is good, maybe a few more specifics. “Run, dark, tunnel, boots” – these common words can be interchanged with words that give readers more clues. What kind of boots? (I’m wondering because boots I have don’t clack. A specific kind of boot would give us insight to the character we’re meeting) “A dark tunnel” “ground” – is it a wide tunnel? Wet? Smelly? You can’t see but you have other senses. Good start.
April 14, 2014 — 8:34 AM
Steven Cowles says:
Well. It’s certainly got intrigue, but I’m puzzled by the details of the chase. I’m finding it difficult to imagine many circumstances where I’d want to run hard into absolute pitch darkness – mostly due to the whole sudden wall / deep pit thing.
If I am running hard – then why can’t I hear my own breathing? Why can’t I hear the person/thing’s footsteps that I’m chasing after?
It’s possible that the story goes on to answer all of those – but if not – then you might want to rethink those details.
April 14, 2014 — 2:54 AM
Cat York says:
Yes. This.
April 14, 2014 — 8:35 AM
jjcatling says:
Trying to be constructive, this can be improved by removing the internal rhymes ‘sound / ground’ and ‘heart / hard’. Even without reading aloud, these clunked. It’s easy to become over-obsessed with purging infelicities such as these, but your first line needs to be unimprovable, for sound as well as sense.
There are also several redundancies, the clearing out of which will make your prose leaner and sharper. Check out the below – I’ve done nothing but strip out the stuff you don’t need. Not perfect, but in my opinion, better.
“Wait!” I yell, as I run inside a dark tunnel. By dark I mean absolute, pitch darkness ahead, which seems to consume me as I run deeper and deeper into its heart. The only sound is the clacking of my boots.
April 14, 2014 — 12:17 PM
RSAGARCIA says:
Bit too generic. I don’t have enough of a connection to what’s going on to engage on the level of fear you need yet. Do the boots really clack? Good idea, but needs some work on the execution.
April 14, 2014 — 12:21 PM
Michael Trimmer says:
Its good, but I think the second sentence runs on too long. You could put a full stop after “ahead of me” and then start the next sentence “It seemed to consume…” That breaks it down a bit and gives it more pace I feel.
April 14, 2014 — 2:03 PM
winterbayne says:
very first and short sentence: Ember gritted her teeth in a forced smile.
The best opening line I remember reading is from Wool. O-M-G.
April 14, 2014 — 12:26 AM
G.G. Andrew says:
Simple but works. Brings us into the action and emotion!
April 14, 2014 — 8:24 AM
winterbayne says:
Thanks, I am nothing if not simple 😉
April 14, 2014 — 2:29 PM
Megan says:
You can force a smile without gritting your teeth, and vice versa, so to me they’re separate actions. It’s a minor adjustment, but I think it reads better if you change “in a” to “and”. So it would read “Ember gritted her teeth and forced a smile.”
April 14, 2014 — 10:30 AM
Eugene C Scott says:
I took Beck Cameron’s life. I’m here to give it back.
April 14, 2014 — 12:30 AM
G.G. Andrew says:
I’m liking this, because it makes me wonder what this means. Why is this person giving Beck’s life back–regret? Love? etc. Not to mention the question of how…
April 14, 2014 — 7:44 AM
Cat York says:
I like this.
April 14, 2014 — 8:36 AM
Melissa says:
This is so straight-forward, yet speaks volumes of intrigue to me. I adore the simplicity of how you’ve created a strong hook in two short sentences. I’m always too wordy.
April 14, 2014 — 10:37 AM
Justinsmoustache says:
i like the wordplay with Beck/back. good start!
April 14, 2014 — 11:27 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
I like this. Good set up.
April 14, 2014 — 12:22 PM
Chris says:
I love this. It’s concise and to the point, not a single word wasted.
April 14, 2014 — 1:02 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Caught me. I wanna read it.
April 14, 2014 — 2:19 PM
Kathleen S. Allen (@kathleea) says:
I like it because I’m thinking this might be a demon and I love paranormal so…
April 14, 2014 — 2:27 PM
Monique Headley says:
I like this. Straight-forward and intriguing.
April 14, 2014 — 2:28 PM
backpackwayne says:
“I awoke to a silence, I have never heard before.”
April 14, 2014 — 12:33 AM
Cat York says:
This is good, but you don’t need the comma.
April 14, 2014 — 8:37 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
Yes, the comma is unnecessary, but I want to wrap my mind around how you’re hearing the silence. You can describe a certain kind of silence, which is what I think you want to do here. The kind that pulls you into awareness because it’s so complete. But you can’t ‘hear’ that. So this makes no sense to me. Try describing the feeling instead of just saying ‘heard’?
April 14, 2014 — 12:24 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Love the concept — but this is definitely one in need of ‘show, don’t tell’. It’s a silence. You *can’t* hear it. What about it could you hear? Why was it different? Also, no comma there. Did you mean to switch tenses?
April 14, 2014 — 2:35 PM
Bryce Anderson says:
1) You can definitely hear a silence. That’s especially obvious when the silence comes at the end of a sound that you’ve grown so accustomed to that you mistake it for silence. In New York, when they stopped running a certain rail line at night, people found themselves waking up and calling the police because they ‘heard something,’ when subconsciously they were just hearing silence that their brains thought should be filled by the noise of the train.
2) The questions you’re asking about the silence are the ones the readers are *supposed* to be asking at this point. If the first sentence has a job, it’s to raise the questions that will tempt the reader into reading onward to get the answers. That the sentence has raised questions that haven’t been answered to your satisfaction is a limitation of the “post the first sentence by itself” project, not a problem with the sentence.
Had he posted the first paragraph, where your questions probably get answered, you wouldn’t notice a problem.
April 14, 2014 — 2:54 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Points well made. ‘Heard’ didn’t seem like the word, to me, to use — but I’m not writing that story, so! 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 2:58 PM
Mike W. says:
I know what you mean about “hearing” a silence…maybe, “…awoke to a silence I’ve never *felt* before”? You’re right either way…great opening line.
April 14, 2014 — 3:03 PM
Rio says:
Wait, are you just saying that the speaker awoke to silence because he’s never heard before, or are you saying that he awoke to a silence that he’s never heard before?
April 14, 2014 — 10:34 PM
grfrazier says:
You can definitely have a lot of fun with first sentences.
jbiggar’s sentence is interesting…It creates a bit of mystery. Where is Sara going, now that her husband is distracted? As a reader, I want to know. The only downside to the sentence is it’s a bit long. A shorter, simpler approach may be: Noticing her husband busy with guests, Sara Sheridan seized the opportunity and edged out of the half-filled dining room.
Here are a few of my first sentences. Let me know what you think:
It started with blood, as everything does.
The old couple looks out of place here, all prim and proper in a veritable den of iniquity.
“Who’d you kill for that?” Caitlyn asked him when he came home.
April 14, 2014 — 12:34 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
All good grfrazier, particularly the last line, humour and murder in one sentence. Gotta love it. 🙂
Thanks for the advice to, I agree.
April 14, 2014 — 12:37 AM
fadedglories says:
I like the second one best because it tells me more.
April 14, 2014 — 4:03 AM
G.G. Andrew says:
I like the first and third here. The first because it’s thought-provoking and vivid, the third because it’s funny and curious.
April 14, 2014 — 7:46 AM
Cat York says:
Me too! Same reasons!
April 14, 2014 — 8:39 AM
Noel says:
Agreeing with those who prefer 1 and 3–both intriguing, and 3 especially gives a great sense of character and promises us we’re right in the middle of things.
On #2…. “Veritable den of iniquity” sounds both stilted and cliched, which may be how your narrator talks, but it seems a little tired. I’m much more distant and detached from scene and character in #2.
April 14, 2014 — 12:12 PM
RSAGARCIA says:
First and second are great. Second one is trying a bit too hard. I think it’s the ‘veritable’.
April 14, 2014 — 12:26 PM
Noel says:
Agreed. The thing about “veritable” is that it doesn’t actually *mean* anything.
April 14, 2014 — 12:38 PM
Mike W. says:
All three sentences grab me, although I agree about maybe cutting the word “veritable” from #2.
April 14, 2014 — 3:10 PM
Erik Storey says:
The first time the phone rang, I was about to shoot the bastard.
April 14, 2014 — 12:35 AM
Cat York says:
I was a little confused here, thinking you wanted to shoot the bastard calling … but I’m thinking you’re in a room about to shoot someone when the phone rings. So maybe write it like that? “I was about to shoot the bastard when the phone rang.” This may just be how I’m reading it and the second sentence would clear up any confusion.
April 14, 2014 — 9:58 AM
Sarah W. says:
I have a similar confusion here. I mean, I assume it’s not the phone that the narrator is about to shoot, although at the rate I’ve been getting spam calls recently, that may be a faulty assumption…
April 14, 2014 — 10:19 AM
Megan says:
I agree with Cat York…original is confusing.
April 14, 2014 — 10:33 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
These two actions are too unconnected and that’s makes it feel confusing and/or if you’re trying to hard to be shocking. I agree with Cat–your clauses are probably in the wrong order. But then, why does a ringing phone come in front of shooting someone (I assume you have a good reason to shoot them, such as imminent attack)? I would shoot the person, then answer the phone. Or better yet, ignore the phone, unless I’m expecting a call that might stop me. Only reason I could think of to worry about the phone at all.
April 14, 2014 — 12:28 PM
Jimmie says:
Here’s something from a stalled WIP: “Thursday tried to kill me today. It’s Tuesday. Yeah, welcome to my life.”
I envision Thursday as hired muscle — very good hired muscle — for a local crime boss. In my head, this is an urban fantasy crime story told from the first-person POV, but it’s stalled. I’ve no clue why Thursday tried to kill the narrator, why Thursday failed (though I suspect he failed on purpose, but that leads to another question).
IN short, the line leads to question for which I don’t have any answers. Ugh.
April 14, 2014 — 12:36 AM
fadedglories says:
Like it.
You could rough out several possible answers, each more unlikely than the previous one. Let them gel for a week or two then pick one and write it. Who knows where you’ll end up?
April 14, 2014 — 4:05 AM
Jessica says:
I’ve had that sort of week.
April 14, 2014 — 4:18 AM
Rose Red says:
This says everything and nothing. I don’t need the details to know how they feel because I’ve been there. I’m there now!
April 14, 2014 — 10:09 AM
Rose Red says:
haha
I should not say anything to anyone before coffee. You were commenting on the first line, and I thought your comment was a first line. I might use it!
April 14, 2014 — 10:44 AM
Jessica says:
Please do! 😀
April 15, 2014 — 3:49 PM
Jessica says:
Please do! 🙂
April 15, 2014 — 3:50 PM
Wendy Christopher says:
It’s a great opening line, Jimmie… but am I right in thinking (from my interpretation of what you wrote) that this is all you have so far of the story, other than you’d like it to be an urban fantasy crime story in first-person POV?
Sometimes we can get fabulous ideas for scenarios, characters, settings or even just one knock-’em-dead, set-piece scene several chapters down the line… but without a structure to hang them on it can be impossible to get any further. I think, as you said yourself, you need to get – at the very least – the answers to your questions before you can progress with this. Perhaps you could stash this line somewhere safe for a bit and then forget it – albeit temporarily – while you build the structure for this story? Even if it’s nothing more than a beginning, a middle and an end, it’ll give you some sort of road map to follow.
Good luck!
April 14, 2014 — 7:34 AM
Jimmie says:
Exactly right, Wendy. That it all I have right now. The line had been sitting in my head for months, irritating me a little bit because it’s not more than what it is but it won’t go away.
April 16, 2014 — 10:57 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
The line almost works, but the ‘Tuesday’ part serves no purpose except to confuse the idea that this is a person trying to kill another person. I’d drop that part.
April 14, 2014 — 12:30 PM
Kathleen S. Allen (@kathleea) says:
Try using a beat sheet to help out your plot. Blake Synder’s Save the Cat book is for screenwriters but novelists use it too. This sounds like a detective noir, which I love and a UF detective noir? Sweet. Nice change-up on the genre.
April 14, 2014 — 2:31 PM
Bryce Anderson says:
Don’t sweat it. Just keep on writing until you’ve figured out what the real story is. Once you get that nailed down, you’ll know whether this sentence introduces the story well.
The beginning needs to be wonderful. It doesn’t need to be wonderful *right* *now*.
I think creating a little bit of deliberate confusion in your first sentence is a fair approach. Just resolve it quickly in subsequent sentences by making sure the readers understand that Thursday is a goon.
April 14, 2014 — 2:58 PM
Jimmie says:
Thanks, Bryce. I want the little bit of confusion there, but, yes, I do need to make the story clear quickly or the confusion will set in and tick folks off.
April 16, 2014 — 10:56 AM
mikes75 says:
This comes across more like dialogue than a first person opening line:
“Thursday tried to kill me today.”
He sipped his coffee to buy time, probably wondering if he’d heard me right. “It’s Tuesday.”
“Yeah, welcome to my life.”
April 14, 2014 — 3:01 PM
Saxon Kennedy says:
I actually like the way you phrased that better than the original.
April 14, 2014 — 4:55 PM
Jimmie says:
I like that a lot, Mike. That might work even better as an opening than what I have.
April 16, 2014 — 10:55 AM
Saxon Kennedy says:
I think it might actually be cooler if Thursday was not a hired muscle, but rather that the narrator was almost killed on Thursday. Then he/she goes on to state that it is now Tuesday, and is still fighting for his/her life. I loved the idea when reading this that the *day* Thursday tried to kill her, but was kind of disappointed when it was a play on words. (Not that that isn’t a cool idea, too; I just think the other way would be better.)
April 14, 2014 — 4:52 PM
Michala Tyann says:
Alimay crossed the parking garage towards her car, ripping the itchy, black wig off as she went.
April 14, 2014 — 12:37 AM
david says:
This is pretty good, but I would consider trading itchy for an adjective that gives more insight into what’s going on. Like dominatrix or clown… see what I mean? Itchy seems extranious unless you’re trying to show annoyance.
April 14, 2014 — 8:20 AM
Rose Red says:
I like itchy. She sounds agitated.
April 14, 2014 — 10:10 AM
Bryce Anderson says:
“Itchy” is fairly helpful, really. It strongly indicates that she didn’t want to be wearing it, which makes us ask why she wore it anyways.
April 14, 2014 — 3:00 PM
RSAGARCIA says:
I wouldn’t change this. I envision someone removing a wig that’s no longer necessary because a deception is complete. That intrigues me. Itchy is important because it tells me why she’s taking it off.
April 14, 2014 — 12:31 PM
Michael Trimmer says:
I think you can loose the comma around the “itchy” section, and maybe add another descriptor. EG “ripping off the itchy black nylon wig as she went”
April 14, 2014 — 2:05 PM
Monique Headley says:
This worked for me. “ripping” and “itchy” both convey her displeasure at wearing the wig. And I want to know why she HAS to wear it. I’d definitely read on.
April 14, 2014 — 2:30 PM
Steven Cowles says:
He had summoned her to the study and she knew far better than to disobey; for the second time that week Rebecca found herself lying on the scuffed leather of the chaise longue, rolling up her sleeve to receive a lethal injection of belladonna.
– Opening line from my current WIP.
April 14, 2014 — 12:38 AM
grfrazier says:
Cool. Lot of intrigue in this one. Why is she rolling up her sleeve for a lethal injection? For a second time, no less!…
Same advice as to jbiggar: Go shorter:
For the second time that week, Rebecca rolled up her sleeve to receive a lethal injection of belladonna.
April 14, 2014 — 12:45 AM
Cat York says:
Yes. Agree. The rest of the info is good. You don’t need to put it into one sentence. Great beginning. I hate needles! LOL
April 14, 2014 — 8:43 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Well you got me hooked! All the important questions are right there: who, what, where, when, why… not to mention a delicious touch of ‘WTF?’… 😉
April 14, 2014 — 6:58 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
I have no objection to this opening because it’s part of a story. You don’t need to re-do it to go shorter, just because a shorter opening line works better. You have to keep the story in mind. If the shorter line works for the story, then you can take the suggestions here. But don’t shorten it just because you can, because part of what everyone seems ready to leave out is what initially intrigued me. The idea that there is a man here, in a study, that she fears.
April 14, 2014 — 12:43 PM
mikes75 says:
This feels more like two separate opening lines, and either is really quite strong on it’s own. This might be more a product of not having the rest of the story to follow, but reading these two together gives the feeling you couldn’t choose which was stronger and used both. It lessens the effect. I’d pick one or the other, and lean towards the second. You could save the first to be the hook at the end of a chapter, to encourage readers to turn the page…
April 14, 2014 — 2:35 PM
Paul Baxter says:
I like it, but I’d split it into two sentences at the semicolon.
Also, I’d lose the “far.” What is the difference between knowing better, and knowing far better? If “far” suggests something else – like, knowing better from repeated experience, or from really bad prior consequences, you might want to give us that.
April 16, 2014 — 11:58 PM
Michala Tyann says:
Oops. Paste and copy didn’t work. Dang it. Alimay crossed the parking garage towards her car, ripping the itchy, black wig off as she went. She eased open her car door and slid into the driver’s seat, gratefully slinging the wig over her shoulder while looking around for potential witnesses. After laying the stolen patient file and fake badge beside her she combed the tangles out of her hair and felt immediate relief.
April 14, 2014 — 12:40 AM
adaddinsane says:
Well it’s just supposed to be first sentence anyway. So: it’s intriguing enough to make me want to know more.
April 14, 2014 — 1:53 AM
Michala Tyann says:
. She eased open her car door and slid into the driver’s seat, gratefully slinging the wig over her shoulder while looking around for potential witnesses. After laying the stolen patient file and fake badge beside her she combed the tangles out of her hair and felt immediate relief. She knew pulling off the wig in public had been precarious. She groaned, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. Images of him ran rampant and once again she forced them away. The dream from the previous night had her on edge. “How do you always know the exact wrong time to come back into my life?” Shaking the drudged up thoughts away she spotted a moving car and recognized the license plate. That was just way too close.
April 14, 2014 — 12:43 AM
fadedglories says:
Maybe there’s a bit too much about the wig?
You could say ‘This whole thing was reckless she knew (comma)” between ‘sliding into the driver’s seat (period)….. and……….(but) the dream from the previous’
April 14, 2014 — 4:13 AM
AJ Snook says:
To the Japanese, cherry blossoms signal the birth of a new year, their brilliant fluttering farewell the death of the last; but to me they whisper hints of forgotten dreams, of a blindness that afflicts me for fifty-one weeks until next spring.
April 14, 2014 — 12:45 AM
Whimsy and Nonsense says:
That’s sad. It makes me want to read more and find out why this person is unhappy for 51 weeks of the year. Good one.
April 14, 2014 — 1:39 AM
Cat York says:
I usually get hooked with short, direct first sentences. But every once in a while something like this grabs me if it’s done right. I think this is a lovely start. Intriguing.
April 14, 2014 — 8:46 AM
Melissa says:
I’m the opposite of Cat. Though short and quick can grab me, I adore a beautiful opening line that gives me the essence of what story I’m going to fall into for the rest of the novel. This is gorgeous and captivating. I would certainly keep reading.
April 14, 2014 — 10:46 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
Nice. I like this.
April 14, 2014 — 12:44 PM
Monique Headley says:
Wow! Lovely, and emotive. It reeks of sadness and in one short line, I empathize with this character. Really good!
April 14, 2014 — 2:32 PM
Kathleen S. Allen (@kathleea) says:
Why blindness? Is it supposed to be literal blindness? Why only blind for 51 weeks? What happens in the one week the main character isn’t blind (literal or not)?
April 14, 2014 — 2:35 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Puts me in mind of Pound’s poem about the metro. Would read.
April 14, 2014 — 2:37 PM
Mike W. says:
Yes, I like this. Very poetic.
April 14, 2014 — 3:07 PM
Saxon Kennedy says:
Awesome. Usually I don’t like a lot of description first thing, but this is perfect. Sounds like a poem.
April 14, 2014 — 5:01 PM
thelizwithzombies says:
Ooooo you’ve hit first line gold here. The very best opening sentences evoke a mood. Sometimes it’s done with short and punchy, and other times, like this one, it’s done by a slow unraveling. I love all of the images, of how you’ve arranged everything to sound, and somehow in the middle of it all there’s a heartbreaking sadness that made my chest tighten.
I would buy this in a heartbeat.
April 14, 2014 — 9:49 PM
Steven Cowles says:
I like this, very much. It’s been said before – but it does have a poetic quality to it.
April 15, 2014 — 2:42 AM
Paul Baxter says:
I’d break it into two sentences; maybe even two paragraphs.
To the Japanese, cherry blossoms signal the birth of a new year, their brilliant fluttering farewell the death of the last.
To me they whisper hints of forgotten dreams and a blindness that afflicts me for fifty-one weeks until next spring.
April 17, 2014 — 12:00 AM
underastarlitsky says:
Anise just couldn’t do it, she couldn’t stand and watch the flames as the acrid stink of burning hair filled the air.
I think what makes a good opening line is something unexpected or something that piques your curiosity or jars you. Like the opening to Peter Pan – All children, except one, grow up . you read that and you’re instantly curious – what is different about this one child who doesn’t grow up?! Or the beginning of A Christmas Carol : Marley was dead, to begin with. – What?! Who is Marley and why is he dead? You’ll have to read to find out
April 14, 2014 — 1:05 AM
Paul Baxter says:
I have a problem with this for one reason. I think most people in this circumstance would either try to help, or turn away. That she ‘couldn’t do it, she couldn’t stand and watch’ establishes that there is, somehow, the expectation that she should. But this early, we have no idea of why, nor why we should care that this is the expectation.
April 17, 2014 — 12:06 AM
Aimee L says:
“It killed her? What do you mean, it killed her?”
April 14, 2014 — 1:28 AM
G.G. Andrew says:
I like how this starts with people talking in a charged situation. Brings us right to the action!
April 14, 2014 — 8:30 AM
Chris says:
I find that opening with dialogue can be a risk, in that it’s just a disembodied voice in a featureless space until you throw in some description. But this is intriguing enough that I’d keep going.
April 14, 2014 — 1:13 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
I love this — dialogue always gets me, personally.
April 14, 2014 — 2:38 PM
Paul Baxter says:
I like this.
April 17, 2014 — 12:02 AM
Melissa says:
Ducked under the bar of the kitchen island, balancing on the balls of my bare feet, the sound of his heart beating faintly hits my ears, and I focus hard, concentrating every ounce of patience I have left on controlling my own pulse.
That’s the opening line from my WIP, which is a sequel. The first book’s opening paragraph is this:
“You see fit to steal from others, so shall you have your right hand removed. Guard, imprison him until morning, his punishment to be carried forth at noon.” One of the elfin court guards dutifully drags the man away as he screams, begging for mercy, his attorney arguing against our king’s outrageous decision. “If you wish to join your client, I will have your tongue removed for your disrespect in my court,” exclaims the self-righteous vampire, seated on his ostentatious throne, elaborate golden Celtic crown atop his head.
I’d love feedback/comments on either or both. I can’t change anything about the series’ first book since it’s about to release in two weeks, but it’d still be great to hear feedback. It’s a trilogy with spin-offs, so there’s a lot of writing to be done, and always room for improvement.
I’m not naming titles since I’m not sure Chuck would appreciate me shamelessly self-promoting on his blog. 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 1:28 AM
Cat York says:
Sentence #1: The situation is attention-grabbing. I’m wondering why this person is under the counter. I think you have too many modifiers at the front of this sentence. And I’m no grammar hound, but I think when you’re using phrases to modify the action, they need to match. You could change them all to gerunds? “Ducking under the bar of the kitchen island, balancing on the balls of my bare feet, listening for the sound of his heartbeat, I focus hard …” Still too front heavy, IMHO, but changing them to gerunds makes it smoother. This is a good opening sitch. You have enough pieces to break it up a little and smooth it out. As for the grammar, everyone/anyone, feel free to jump in and correct me. I might be talking out of my ear. 😉
Sentence #2: “You see fit to steal from other, so shall you have your right hand removed.” Works for me.
April 14, 2014 — 8:57 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
Agree with Cat. The first line of the second one is good, but the rest of the paragraph slips into too many overdone descriptions. I found myself wanting to delete dutifully, outrageous, exclaims, self-righteous, ostentatious, elaborate and atop.
April 14, 2014 — 12:51 PM
Mike W. says:
I like the first one, but I agree with Cat about changing the verbs to gerunds. Also, I’m not sure about the word “patience”…concentrating every ounce of patience feels a bit off to me; maybe every ounce of *energy* would work better? Or willpower? I dunno…overall i like it 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 3:16 PM
adaddinsane says:
“Is Mother dead yet?”
From a finished fantasy work.
April 14, 2014 — 1:49 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Ooooohhh…. that makes me wanna read more! Short, sweet and packs a punch – love it!
April 14, 2014 — 6:25 AM
adaddinsane says:
🙂 I know, although in the end it’s not quite as creepy as it sounds. My editor went into ecstasy over it.
April 14, 2014 — 6:32 AM
KK says:
Well, that’s a way to get me to keep reading.
April 14, 2014 — 9:37 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
Great. Could mean any manner of things.
April 14, 2014 — 12:51 PM
Finn Tallaksen says:
I am a *sucker* for a good one liner. This works for me!
April 15, 2014 — 12:02 AM
adamvenezia says:
A rare example of dialog working as an opening. I’d be lying though if I said that top hat and mustache didn’t help me build the scene.
April 16, 2014 — 6:39 AM
Finn Tallaksen says:
Ljót strode through the forest, pale flesh aglimmer, the red threads of her crown hyphae swinging with every step.
He cleaved as tightly to her tail as a Little-Brother-Under-the-Soil fused to its tree root.
Last spring he had been just another rounded nodule on the webwork of roots, one of myriad Little Brothers. Then She quickened him. His limbs grew long and straight, his skin formed the silvery bark of a young stripling, his fingers and toes lengthened, became twiglike. Still tiny, he became motile, able to swim through the soil to reach Ljót, his queen.
IMHO, it needs more than one sentence to make complete sense. One line doesn’t hit it out of the park. Thoughts?
April 14, 2014 — 2:08 AM
Sarah W. says:
I think maybe you’re starting with the wrong character. Based on the additional text, it seems like this “he” that you haven’t specifically named here is the main character, but if all you’d posted was the first sentence, I’d walk away thinking that Ljót is the main character instead. I also think that the paragraph starting with “Last spring” is more impactful than the first two sentences.
It sounds interesting, though!
April 14, 2014 — 10:41 AM
Melissa says:
Often, I think it’s difficult to write a one-line hook with fantasy. There’s simply too much involved in a large-scale fantasy, and I’m gathering from what you’ve posted here that’s what genre you’re writing. However, I actually love the first line and wouldn’t need a whole lot more to find it interesting. The rest definitely adds to it though.
April 14, 2014 — 10:50 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
No, it doesn’t. I liked the first line alone because I could see the character. From there I would read on. Always have confidence in your first line. It’s a first impression. You either give your best one, or you don’t, so try and try again until you hit the nail on the head. Not everyone’s going to like you the first time they meet you. But YOU should like you. Or no one else will.
April 14, 2014 — 12:55 PM
Rio says:
I think the best opening lines give either a taste of character and setting, or show an action. Honestly, I’m not really feeling this one. I know what hyphae are, but I can’t for the life of me imagine what crown hyphae are supposed to look like, and all that’s happening is someone walking through the forest. The second sentence is just plain confusing, along with what comes after. It might be just a personal peeve, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to start off a fantasy by throwing a bunch of terminology and strange concepts at the reader. Keep things simple and clean, but intriguing and relevant as well.
April 14, 2014 — 10:45 PM
Arabella says:
1. If walls could talk these would be screaming.
2. If someone had asked Lila Collins what she wanted to do when she grew up, the last thing she would have said was working for the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
The first one is from a story I’m writing for fun on Wattpad. The second is one of several WIP.
April 14, 2014 — 2:59 AM
sknicholls says:
I like vague but intriguing for an opening line…like your #1. I don’t want TMI in the first line.
April 14, 2014 — 3:20 AM
david says:
The second one is really good, but try: if… what she wanted to BE when she grew up the last thing she would have said was “job tittle” for the Horseman…
April 14, 2014 — 8:03 AM
G.G. Andrew says:
I love these, and so want to read the second story. Can you share the link?
April 14, 2014 — 8:34 AM
Arabella says:
I’m glad you like them 🙂 The second story is still very much a rough work in progress, I’m afraid. But here’s the link for the first one, just in case you’re interested http://www.wattpad.com/story/12719145-when-darkness-falls
April 14, 2014 — 9:06 AM
Cat York says:
I love both of these. Especially the second. Are those books out yet? I’ve heard you mention them I think before. The idea sounds amazing.
April 14, 2014 — 9:00 AM
Arabella says:
Thank you 🙂 I don’t think I’ve mentioned them before, especially not the second as it is still a very rough work in progress. But here’s the link for the first one if you’re interested http://www.wattpad.com/story/12719145-when-darkness-falls
April 14, 2014 — 9:09 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
I like David’s suggestion of the second line. It’s the better of the two. The first loses for me because it’s a cliche that piles on the melodrama.
April 14, 2014 — 12:57 PM
sknicholls says:
“Time had a way of taking a perfectly good moment and turning it into something terrible.”
April 14, 2014 — 3:17 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Not only, but definitely in part because I have been there — you nailed this one, for me. I love it. I immediately want to know about the moment, and how it all went to shit.
April 14, 2014 — 2:46 PM
G.G. Andrew says:
Intriguing!
April 14, 2014 — 2:55 PM
Bryce Anderson says:
“has” rather than “had.” “Had” implies that this pattern is something time used to do, but no longer does, or implies that you’re referring only to one particular instance (which contradicts the recurring implied by “has a way of”). Otherwise, it does intrigue.
April 14, 2014 — 3:05 PM
sknicholls says:
Thanks for the suggestion. Here is where I was going with this. You don’t think it “offs” the tense?
“Time has a way of taking a perfectly good moment and turning it into something terrible. Not that all moments in time are bad ones. Many are wonderful. But in an instant, all that seems beautiful can change. It can happen so quickly, like lightening hitting a tree, splitting its trunk and splaying its branches. Sometimes it is insidious, the unpleasantness creeps up and then, unexpectedly, there is a pinnacle moment of certainty that life is never going to be the same. This happened all too often for Barber sisters, Claudette and Carol.”
April 14, 2014 — 6:01 PM
Noel says:
I could be completely wrong here, but my sense is that you’re writing your way in and you haven’t gotten to the story yet. (I mean, to the place where the story should start.) This sounds like theme–like ideas that can reveal themselves through the events so you maybe don’t need to state them at all, or if you do, only after we’re caught up enough in the characters and their actions and circumstances to care about their epiphanies.
April 14, 2014 — 6:46 PM
fadedglories says:
“Summers were longer and warmer then; I read an article in the Times recently stating that harvests before the Great War were particularly good, so I am relieved that my memory is neither faulty nor romanticised.”
Opening line of an unfinished novel about the decline of a wealthy Edwardian family. It’s very period in style, which is why I’ve abandoned it.
April 14, 2014 — 3:58 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
It certainly evokes a period feel very well… but as it is it feels like the information comes in the wrong order. I think we need to know that the narrator is referring to the time of the Great War BEFORE he talks about the summers in that time. Otherwise it feels a bit like we’ve missed the first part of the conversation.
Even though you’ve abandoned it, you’ve still kept it though, right? Even if it’s just stashed away in some dark, forbidden corner of your hard drive? 😉 ‘Cause you never know… someday you might find a use for it…
April 14, 2014 — 6:35 AM
Cat York says:
I agree with everything Wendy is saying. Plus I would add that you should maybe give this one another go. It’s an interesting start and you have a good voice.
April 14, 2014 — 9:03 AM
Norma Parfitt says:
Thanks for the encouragement. I keep all my old efforts because some day…… as you said.
April 16, 2014 — 3:33 AM
Jessica says:
The current first sentence(s) from BookThing:
Prologue: “The man looked up to check the clock tower.”
Chapter the first: “The heavy boots of the guards clanked against the hard-packed dirt of the road as the patrol crossed the square.”
April 14, 2014 — 4:16 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Prologue: Is it possible to name ‘the man?’ If he’s a character that appears again in the story I think that would make the reader feel more invested in the story – but even if he’s just a one-shot is there a way of being more specific about him, i.e. ‘The/A guard’ or ‘The/A man in black’ or whatever?
First Chapter: Can I suggest you swap ‘The heavy boots of the guards” for just “The sound of heavy boots?” Obviously that’ll require some edits to the rest to make the grammar right, but I think if you’ve already got the word ‘patrol’ in the sentence you don’t need to say the boots belong to ‘the guards’ as well.
April 14, 2014 — 6:54 AM
Jessica says:
The man isn’t named because, well. He dies -real- fast. The description does come beforehand, however.
Good point on the guards/patrol bit, though. Hm.
April 15, 2014 — 3:53 PM
Cat York says:
I’m agreeing a lot with Wendy. The first sentence is a bit too general. The second is better, the way you’ve added detail. There are more visuals for the reader to work with.
April 14, 2014 — 9:05 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
I’m fine with him being unnamed. But there are some boring adverbs and a missed opportunity to add detail. ‘The man hid in the shadows, checking the time on the clock tower across the street.’ A (bad) example, but an idea of what I might find more interesting.
April 14, 2014 — 12:59 PM
Paul Baxter says:
What kind of boots clank against dirt? Do you go on to explain this later?
April 17, 2014 — 12:10 AM
david says:
He opened his eyes and the strange animal was standing there again.
April 14, 2014 — 4:33 AM
david says:
Sometimes I’m afraid I hide behind the whole “brevity is the soul of wit” thing. Not that I’m always trying to show inteligence, I’m usually just trying not to look stupid.
April 14, 2014 — 4:37 AM
Cat York says:
Could you name the character? I know sometimes people don’t want to put their WIP characters’ names on a public site, but a name can tell us a lot. You have a first sentence that would easily allow for it. Also, a well-placed detail about what kind of strange animal it is would lend intrigue. It’s a good start.
April 14, 2014 — 9:08 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
Not enough for me. ‘Strange’ is simply too vague, and a chapter starting with someone opening their eyes is a bit flat.
April 14, 2014 — 1:00 PM
Meg Preuss says:
Gwen rolled her eyes and shifted from one foot to the other as she watched two drunken blondes attempting to convince Fred to let them into Midnight Moonshine, Fred smirked when he caught her eye; he knew how she hated having to wait for him to chase away the normals.
From my current WIP
April 14, 2014 — 4:43 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Good strong start – but I feel more inclined to read this as two sentences rather than one (ending the first sentence after ‘Midnight Moonshine’ and beginning the next at ‘Fred smirked.’) Just my opinion – and that still makes it two strong lines.
April 14, 2014 — 6:21 AM
Cat York says:
Yes, there are two sentences here. Maybe three, because I don’t think you even need that semicolon. Good beginning.
April 14, 2014 — 9:10 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
The first line is great and works on it’s own. I know you want to get to the line about the normals, but trust me, we’ll get there. You don’t need to tack it on.
This a run-on sentence. There should be a period after ‘moonshine’. The semi-colon, however, is fine. Yes, it could be replaced by a period, but it’s up to you.
April 14, 2014 — 1:02 PM
Meg Preuss says:
Thanks for the feedback.
I was originally in two minds about whether to split or not. I’m finding when I edit that I have way too many long sentences.
April 17, 2014 — 2:20 AM
codenamenox says:
Been reading this blog religiously, but this is the first time I dared write something… Here goes, the three-parter opening line of my current novel-in-progress:
I’m alive. Again. This almost makes me cry.
April 14, 2014 — 5:44 AM
G.G. Andrew says:
I like it! Makes me wonder why this person is alive, alive again, and why it’s so terrible. Thanks for posting–I get nervous about it too; always feels like you’re walking naked in the streets to share what you’ve written 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 7:51 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Oooooh…. nice! I like the short sentence structure – adds a note of emotional hopelessness. Good hook!
April 14, 2014 — 7:52 AM
Cat York says:
Good beginning. I like the way you broke it into three parts. I write like this too. 😉
April 14, 2014 — 9:11 AM
Phillip McCollum says:
Great lines!
April 14, 2014 — 11:15 AM
Michael Trimmer says:
Intriguing indeed. It opens up lots of questions and makes people want to know more.
The only thing I perhaps would suggest as a potential change is possibly adding a little extra description. Like “I’m alive. Again. For the four hundred and seventy first time,” or something of that ilk. At the moment, while its good, it could use some little extra spark of spice to give more detail.
April 14, 2014 — 2:14 PM
codenamenox says:
…I think you just scared my narrator into a mildly catatonic state. He wasn’t really keeping track. Now I’ll have to go and assure him it wasn’t that many times, not really, no, please, honey, it’s okay, just breathe now…
Okay, I think he’s better now. I don’t think he knows the number, though, or would tell me if he did. But thanks!
April 14, 2014 — 4:36 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Would read! I like it. Automagically suckered in by life being inevitable and cry-worthy.
April 14, 2014 — 2:20 PM
Monique Headley says:
Good! I want to know “why” she’s upset about being alive.
April 14, 2014 — 2:34 PM
Mike W. says:
I’m usually more of a lurker than a poster too, but the people here seem pretty nice 🙂 I like your opening line(s); makes me think of the Sandman Slim books.
April 14, 2014 — 3:21 PM
Jacob Quarterman says:
It was the “almost” that really did it for me. Very nice.
April 14, 2014 — 9:08 PM
Paul Baxter says:
Thumbs up. I’d read more.
April 17, 2014 — 12:12 AM
Decater Collins says:
Three years is a long time to be dead.
April 14, 2014 — 5:55 AM
Rose Red says:
You got me with this one.
April 14, 2014 — 10:12 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
Very nice. I’d read on.
April 14, 2014 — 1:04 PM
Bryce Anderson says:
+1
April 14, 2014 — 3:05 PM
Wendy Christopher says:
CLINICAL LOG (Dr DAVID HARVEY)
09.05.2044
PROGRESS REPORT
I am pleased to report last night’s mission was a success; we have acquired two males and a female.
I made the (admittedly slightly convenient) decision that the diary-entry heading ‘didn’t count’ as the ACTUAL first line (those who disagree please form an orderly queue 😉 )
April 14, 2014 — 6:15 AM
Christopher Mansell says:
HOW DARE YOU!!! But in all seriousness, I’m intrigued. It raises several questions. Most notably, the reason for the mission, what the mission entailed, and whether the males and female are human or some other species. I like it.
April 14, 2014 — 8:27 AM
Cat York says:
Agree with all this.
April 14, 2014 — 9:14 AM
G.G. Andrew says:
Good one. It’s got a great science fiction feel, if that’s what you’re writing. Either way, it’s intriguing.
April 14, 2014 — 8:27 AM
Cat York says:
Hahah! Great beginning! Love the first “official” opening line. I’m about to post mine with similar tactics. Date and time doesn’t count. LOL.
April 14, 2014 — 9:13 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
It was a good decision. I like this.
April 14, 2014 — 1:04 PM
Paul Baxter says:
Oh, sure. Form an orderly queue so WE CAN BE THE NEXT MALES AND FEMALES ACQUIRED?
April 17, 2014 — 12:14 AM
Greg T says:
I am immortal, destined to walk this crusty boulder as it hurtles on a definite course lacking a purposeful destination.
April 14, 2014 — 7:03 AM
Michael Trimmer says:
Interesting, it sets the scene nicely. If I were you though, I would loose the comma and break it down into two sentences. Also, maybe add in a few single sentence synonyms to add to the drugery the character clearly feels. EG “I am immortal. Undying. Deathless. Perpetual. Condemned to walk this crusty boulder as it hurtles on a definite course, lacking a purposeful destination.”
April 14, 2014 — 2:18 PM
Greg T says:
Thanks. This was banging around in the ol brain pan and had to get it out while trying to finish off a COMPLETELY different work lol.
April 14, 2014 — 2:47 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
I am immortal — you got me. Direct and to the point.
‘this crusty boulder’ — you lost me. Somehow cheesy, to me.
‘hurtles on a definite course lacking a purposeful destination’ <– requires a comma, after course, I think.
And depending on the tone of the rest of the story, feels too… smug, to me? I get an instantaneous picture of the guy being a douche, the kind with an inner narrative that makes me irritated, not someone I want to read about.
It also feels contradictory — not contrasty, but actually contradicting itself. It's got a definite course, but it's lacking a purposeful destination? I might not've had enough caffeine to parse, though.
April 14, 2014 — 2:25 PM
Greg T says:
Thank you. This opening is a dream that occurs during a 20 minute sleep period for a guy working the standard 168 hour work rotation, so he might need another jolt of caffeine as well. Just a bit more for perspective…. ‘I have existed since time began. I am not omniscient, I cannot know what others think, I can only speculate. Existing as long as I have, reading people has become second nature.’
April 14, 2014 — 2:53 PM
Catastrophe Jones says:
And here we see the limitations of the ‘one line’ thing, haha — makes more sense.
April 14, 2014 — 3:00 PM
Greg T says:
Relieved it make more sense…putting down the bourbon now lol
April 14, 2014 — 3:05 PM
Noel says:
Actually, the bit you quote in here could be your opening lines; if you have this, I’m not sure you need the one you posted above. This conveys all that and then some, and I like these sentences much better.
I agree with others about the original opening line: “crusty boulder” sounds strange (call things by their names!), I don’t quite get the distinction between definite course and lacking destination, and you’re not *quite* in dangling modifier territory, but you’re getting really close: the definite course versus lack of destination stuff could, grammatically, almost be describing the character rather than the “crusty boulder.” If you’re going to describe the nature of the earth, give it it’s own sentence.
April 14, 2014 — 6:05 PM
Decater Collins says:
i feel like if someone were immortal, it would be such a part of their identity, they wouldn’t think to start the story with it. it would be like starting with, i’m a man, or i’m a woman. or for that matter, I’m mortal.
if this is an actual opening line to a story that you are writing or have written, i think that the narrator is going to start with a key bit of information about the story, from his/her perspective. this doesn’t get us into the story, if you see what i mean.
April 14, 2014 — 8:50 PM
G.G. Andrew says:
Jason Morales was named one of Middleton’s “30 Under 30” that summer on the City Connection website—meaning that amidst all the young professional jackasses in town, he’d been chosen one of the most promising.
(This is my first line from my romantic comedy I’m publishing next month, SCREWING MR. MELTY. Doing final edits now, so if anyone has any feedback, I’m all ears, er, eyes. Not sure I’m 100% happy with it.)
April 14, 2014 — 7:48 AM
donnaeve says:
I like it. Especially, “all the young professional jackasses in town,” which immediately gives me the sense of who Jason Morales is.
April 14, 2014 — 9:19 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
I like it, it shows conflict, place, time. I think it already sets us up for a sarcastic read, my fav 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 12:53 PM
RSAGARCIA says:
I like it. It gives you tone immediately.
April 14, 2014 — 1:05 PM
Bryce Anderson says:
I tend to advise getting rid of ‘is-es’ and ‘was-es’ and replacing them with something more action-y. “Jason Morales had just been named” for example.
The last half of the sentence might be accomplished with far fewer words. But overall, I like.
April 14, 2014 — 3:08 PM
piperesse says:
Pacer grabbed the newborn infant from the lab technician, ran to the open window, and jumped.
April 14, 2014 — 7:51 AM
Courtney Cantrell says:
I’m all in. : )
I’d strike the word “infant,” though. It’s redundant after “newborn.”
April 16, 2014 — 5:11 PM
Kyra Dune says:
Carlan sparked a blue flame and watched it dance across his fingertips.
This is from my novel Firebrand, the first book in a YA sword and sorcery trilogy.
April 14, 2014 — 8:18 AM
Maure says:
Seems pretty good, except ‘sparked’ leaves me confused about how exactly he created the flame. Did he snap his fingers, rub them together, just make a gesture?
April 14, 2014 — 10:53 AM
adamvenezia says:
I’m surprised how well this works. It’s not trying to do too much all at once.
Could maybe tighten it slightly – Carlan watched a blue flame dance across his fingertips – for example.
April 16, 2014 — 6:08 AM
Christopher Mansell says:
Lauren Lightfoot started her day the way she always did; counting the steps outside her house.
I should explain she’s not obsessive compulsive. The city she lives in is constantly shifting and changing. The next few sentences introduce that idea, but the challenge was for a single sentence, so…
April 14, 2014 — 8:24 AM
donnaeve says:
I love this…even though I definitely would have thought of her as OC, but the fact you shared this is not the case doesn’t change it – still a great opening sentence. I would read more.
April 14, 2014 — 9:22 AM
JM says:
My basement looked like a slaughterhouse and smelled delicious.
April 14, 2014 — 8:41 AM
donnaeve says:
Gah. Hideous and intriguing at the same time. Great opener, IMHO.
April 14, 2014 — 9:20 AM
Sarah W. says:
Well, that’s got my attention… very cool!
April 14, 2014 — 10:47 AM
Talin says:
Silence. Not moving. Not breathing. Still. Nobody wants an aftershock.
April 14, 2014 — 8:44 AM
Paul Baxter says:
I like it, except for the ambiguity of the word still. Does still = quiet or does still = yet/continuing? Sure, it works either way, but it took me out of the story for a moment wondering which you meant.
April 17, 2014 — 12:20 AM
Tucker Holder says:
This book is a very early WIP, but I’ve been searching for an opening that highlights irregular parts of the story from the start.
“It was June 24th, and Allison had forgotten today was her birthday until she heard about it as an addendum to the morning news.”
April 14, 2014 — 9:06 AM
Rose Red says:
If he was asked later, he would say that he did not know why he left. The note was simple and said little:
Off to be a better man.
-Peter.
April 14, 2014 — 9:08 AM
Cat York says:
I absolutely love this. This is a book I would read. I feel it.
April 14, 2014 — 9:15 AM
KK says:
Holy cow. This is incredible. Please hurry up and finish writing so I can have this book please.
April 14, 2014 — 9:42 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
Nice job, I’d read on 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 1:01 PM
RSAGARCIA says:
Good one. I like this.
April 14, 2014 — 1:08 PM
Simon B. says:
I love this.
April 14, 2014 — 2:33 PM
fadedglories says:
Nice. Bet he’s really going off to be a worse man.
April 14, 2014 — 3:29 PM
thatcalamity says:
A black desert swept across Obsidian’s surface: dunes crashed against the ankles of mountains and rivers of sand poured to massive canyons.
April 14, 2014 — 9:14 AM
Cat York says:
This is really powerful imagery. I’d like to see where it leads. My only concern would be that you introduce some kind of character in the first paragraph, but it’s hard to say that describing a landscape or world isn’t just as necessary. Sometimes, like Chuck said, first sentences aren’t as important as the first page.
April 14, 2014 — 9:25 AM
Bryce Anderson says:
I’m having mixed feelings here. Describing the desert as ‘sweeping’ across the surface is a little jarring, but also establishes that you’re describing the terrain in a very action-oriented way, which is interesting enough that I don’t want to tell you not to do it. “poured down” instead of “poured to,” and maybe “crowded” instead of “crashed.” Or maybe it’s fine as is. Hard to tell.
April 14, 2014 — 3:12 PM
Cat York says:
Thanks for this, Chuck. It’s like you’re running an online workshop.
One of my favorite lines from any book ever is from Charlotte’s Web. “Where’s Papa going with that axe?” said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.
Gets me every time.
Here’s mine. Like Wendy, I’m hoping the first two lines don’t count. 😉
1981.
Third-to-last day in July.
Every kid in my subdivision age six to thirteen crouched at the edge of the newest construction site in Indian Trail West, ready to pounce.
I feel it might be a bit of a mouthful. Feedback appreciated.
April 14, 2014 — 9:20 AM
donnaeve says:
I want to know why they’re going to pounce! I think this is one of the best ways to entice a reader (me 🙂 )…have character/s in an active moment like this. Nice!
April 14, 2014 — 9:27 AM
Rose Red says:
Every time I imagined it missing a part, it seemed to say less. I like it how it is. What I like most though is the specificity of ‘third-to-last day in July’. That made me smile.
April 14, 2014 — 10:16 AM
Emilyjoy says:
I think you could lose the “in Indian Trail West” without losing important info. It doesn’t have a specific meaning at this point, and you could include it later.
April 14, 2014 — 11:30 AM
Jacob Quarterman says:
For some reason, “age six to thirteen” seemed unimportant to me, but I really want to know what’s being built.
April 14, 2014 — 9:18 PM
Patrick says:
It felt kind of like granny squeezing your cheeks, except instead of just squeezing, she pulls your face in three different directions and pushes on your eyes with her thumbs.
April 14, 2014 — 9:35 AM
Rachael says:
Ok, here goes:
Olivia was not supposed to live to see her twenty-fifth birthday.
April 14, 2014 — 9:35 AM
Rose Red says:
I sat after reading this thinking that Olivia was going to do something really fantastic in during that time when she was not supposed to live to be that old.
April 16, 2014 — 10:02 AM
KK says:
Already published book: I swear to God, if I see one more stupid motivational poster, I’m going to rip my face off and throw it at someone.
Current WIP (well, one of many): There are some people who seem to go through life knowing exactly who they are and what they’re supposed to be doing with themselves. Their lives seem smooth and worry-free. And then there are writers.
April 14, 2014 — 9:41 AM
Rose Red says:
My son and I are enjoying the image of someone throwing their face at another person, awesome.
April 16, 2014 — 10:03 AM
Karen Lynne Klink says:
Simon was taking a stroll on the back porch and pondering on who might help him git that hog down out of the smokehouse when he heard the boy scream.
April 14, 2014 — 9:48 AM
Patrick says:
I think that this is trying to do too much in one sentence. It creates distance from the reader. Try zooming down to Simon’s level.
The old pine boards of the porch creaked as Simon paced back and forth. Who was gonna help him git that hog down out of the smokehouse? Must be a solid hunnred pounds.
The quaking scream of a young boy came from behind the barn.
Just a suggestion. Grain of salt.
April 14, 2014 — 9:55 AM
RSAGARCIA says:
I like this a lot.
April 14, 2014 — 1:13 PM
Canby says:
I am not the hero of this story or, for that matter, any story.
April 14, 2014 — 9:53 AM
Maure says:
I like it – my only comment is that it sounds kind of emotionally distant and meta-y, so I’m wondering whether the narrator is supposed to be telling the story to someone in-story or whatever.
April 14, 2014 — 10:47 AM
Mike W. says:
I like it…reminds me of the first line from “David Copperfield”, except darker.
April 14, 2014 — 3:24 PM
Ryan says:
I already have my first liner up there.
April 14, 2014 — 10:07 AM
Bryce Anderson says:
I’m not getting a good sense of who the speaker is, what a ‘liner’ is referring to, where ‘up’ is, or why he would put a liner there. Worse, they don’t seem like interesting questions that I must know the answers to. I’d throw it out and start from scratch.
April 14, 2014 — 3:14 PM
Sarah says:
I have two here. The first, from a story that is fantasy, although what subgenre of fantasy it is I’d be hard-pressed to say:
The corpse in the window twitched slightly.
And the second, from what’s angling to be urban fantasy:
Even wrapped in a gris-gris from a Voodoo priestess, with my feet beneath me and a golem for a shield, it was all I could do to breathe.
April 14, 2014 — 10:10 AM
Mikey says:
I had no initial idea that missing the bus on this day would, by happenstance, meet with me the most important criminal in my life.
April 14, 2014 — 10:15 AM
Paul B says:
Maybe if the lights on his rented Taurus had been better, James would have seen the girl who stepped in front of his car before he hit her.
April 14, 2014 — 10:32 AM
jbiggar2013 says:
Good job Paul, now I want to know if she lives, if he stops, where he’s from and why he’s there. Lots going on here 🙂
April 14, 2014 — 1:18 PM
Jacob Quarterman says:
I like James blaming the car instead of his actions. Could you use “headlights” instead of just “lights”? That way, you could get rid of “who stepped in front of the car”. “James would have seen the girl before he hit her” packs a harder punch to me.
April 14, 2014 — 9:26 PM
Paul B says:
Thanks for the feedback guys!
Jacob – definitely, yes. That really tightens up the opening. I’ve made a note and it’ll be changed in the second draft. Thanks!
April 15, 2014 — 6:24 AM