Opening Lines (Updated)
"'ello, baby. I'm Kenny. What's yours?"
No, not those kinds of opening lines.
As a reader, is it wrong to require a piece to grab you from the get-go? And if it doesn't, do you chuck it? I know of readers like that. Stern folk, they are, with furrowed brows, piercing eyes, no-nonsense voices, and the weight of importance on their shoulders. They only lighten up when Air Supply comes on the radio :D (just kidding, and no, we are not going there again).
I try my best not to be that severe. I usually give a short story about five to seven pages, and a novel maybe betwen fifty to a hundred, before I decide whether to continue reading or to set it aside for another time. But a good start, a good opening line or a strong set of opening paragraphs or chapters, ensures that I'm going to feel more benevolent to a piece as I flex my reading muscles and make my way through it. Most readers are this way, I think. And most readers, as far as I can tell, make it through to the end of whatever they're reading.
I'll deal with opening lines and paragraphs from short stories in this post, as it wouldn't be practical for me to type out whole early chapters from novels.
Here're the opening sentences from "The Snake: A Story Of The Flat Earth", by Tanith Lee (Realms Of Fantasy, June 2008):
"The snake lay under a low, flowering tree, at the side of the forest path. The snake seemed like a small spill of amber that the sun had firmed and coined with scales.
What the author did for me here, in just a couple of sentences and with the clever use of verbs, was to paint a vivid picture of a snake, a tree, the sun, and a forest path, and in many colors too, with the snake standing forth in amber. I knew I was going to give this tale a more than even chance for me to get through it. From the description alone, my interest was piqued.
Here's another one, from "Events At Fort Plentitude", by Cat Rambo (Weird Tales, Jan/Feb 2008)
"December 27th, Duke Theo's reign, 11th Year, Fort Plentitude -- In the coldest nights of the winter, the fox women come out of the pine woods. Their flashes of hair are scarlet against the blue snow shadows. They sing an odd, whining song like puppies that have lost the teat."
Spooky, that one. With only two colors this time: scarlet against blue snow. Which told me that maybe the rest of the story was indeed going to be spooky. And it was.
Sometimes, it's not just opening lines, but opening paragraphs that gets you. The first two paragraphs, long as they are, of a story I reread every year, "Mateo Falcone" by Prosper Mérimée, pulled me in and lost me in the story as completely as getting lost in, well, the maquis.
Once your mind bites into a story and samples that initial flavor, it serves as a stimuli, the response of which is that you reflexively expect something of it. You bring all of yourself, after all, when you read, so your reactions depend on who you are (and remember that you're growing as a person too; who you are today is most certainly altered from who you were five or ten years ago). Your initial thoughts could change as the story progresses, but that initial taste whets your expectations. In other words, both these stories' beginnings set the tone for what else is to come. A good beginning grabs you, like bait on a hook grabs a fish, and the middle and end serve to reel you in.
Here's a beginning from "Gang Of Three", by Jas. R. Petrin (from Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, May 2008)
"You realize," Robideau pointed out, "I'm not a peace-officer anymore. I'm just filling in for Chief Butts until he gets back from his well-earned vacation. I don't have any official powers."
"But what we got here, Chief, is grand larceny, an' somebody's got to do somethin' about it!"
Seems plain enough, fairly catchy, but, for me, not that big a standout. But enough to draw me in, and move on through it. And I felt rewarded as a reader because the middle and end came out quite well. That story is nominated in the Best Short Story category at the 2009 Edgar Awards, sponsored by The Mystery Writers of America.
That's why I try my best to give stories a chance, in the hopes that I can luck out and come upon a tale whose opening lines may not have grabbed me by the lapels, but draws me in once I get to know it. Sort of like that girl (or guy) who didn't catch your fancy when you first saw her, for whatever reason (some of it your own fault, for sure), but over time, you find yourself, well, attracted and captivated. And wanting to know more. There are very good stories whose beginnings aren't as strong as they could have been, but somehow they make a comeback with a terrific middle or end, or both. The smooth slide inward, as opposed to being hauled right in. But whatever type of beginning you come upon, it's best that, as you give the stories a chance, you try to be as open as you can to the possibility that what you're reading could be a good story.
Keep in mind that a bad beginning is sure to kill outright whatever interest any reader might have. Some killers include poor choice of words, uneven tone or voice, confusing viewpoints, or poor grammar (unless called for by the characters of the story). A teacher in his late-forties once told me that he didn't have the patience or the time to wade through some of the stuff he had to read because his interest was killed right from the start due to bad beginnings. Man, I wouldn't have wanted to be under this Professor. I think I would've gotten a low grade, for sure. It's certainly easier to read than to write.
Mind you, having a good start does not excuse a story for slacking off in the middle or the end. That would be like a basketball team that plays well only in the first quarter and then mails it in for the next three. It'll all end up as wasted effort, and just add another notch to the "L" column. The best stories to read, of course, the ones with the "W's", are the tales whose great beginnings, middles, and ends, all work together toward a tale well told.
Would you like to share the great (or not so great) opening lines that you have read? :)
Update: Found a site with a quiz about opening lines in famous novels. You might want to give it a try, and then try and read all the novels listed there.
No, not those kinds of opening lines.
As a reader, is it wrong to require a piece to grab you from the get-go? And if it doesn't, do you chuck it? I know of readers like that. Stern folk, they are, with furrowed brows, piercing eyes, no-nonsense voices, and the weight of importance on their shoulders. They only lighten up when Air Supply comes on the radio :D (just kidding, and no, we are not going there again).
I try my best not to be that severe. I usually give a short story about five to seven pages, and a novel maybe betwen fifty to a hundred, before I decide whether to continue reading or to set it aside for another time. But a good start, a good opening line or a strong set of opening paragraphs or chapters, ensures that I'm going to feel more benevolent to a piece as I flex my reading muscles and make my way through it. Most readers are this way, I think. And most readers, as far as I can tell, make it through to the end of whatever they're reading.
I'll deal with opening lines and paragraphs from short stories in this post, as it wouldn't be practical for me to type out whole early chapters from novels.
Here're the opening sentences from "The Snake: A Story Of The Flat Earth", by Tanith Lee (Realms Of Fantasy, June 2008):
"The snake lay under a low, flowering tree, at the side of the forest path. The snake seemed like a small spill of amber that the sun had firmed and coined with scales.
What the author did for me here, in just a couple of sentences and with the clever use of verbs, was to paint a vivid picture of a snake, a tree, the sun, and a forest path, and in many colors too, with the snake standing forth in amber. I knew I was going to give this tale a more than even chance for me to get through it. From the description alone, my interest was piqued.
Here's another one, from "Events At Fort Plentitude", by Cat Rambo (Weird Tales, Jan/Feb 2008)
"December 27th, Duke Theo's reign, 11th Year, Fort Plentitude -- In the coldest nights of the winter, the fox women come out of the pine woods. Their flashes of hair are scarlet against the blue snow shadows. They sing an odd, whining song like puppies that have lost the teat."
Spooky, that one. With only two colors this time: scarlet against blue snow. Which told me that maybe the rest of the story was indeed going to be spooky. And it was.
Sometimes, it's not just opening lines, but opening paragraphs that gets you. The first two paragraphs, long as they are, of a story I reread every year, "Mateo Falcone" by Prosper Mérimée, pulled me in and lost me in the story as completely as getting lost in, well, the maquis.
Once your mind bites into a story and samples that initial flavor, it serves as a stimuli, the response of which is that you reflexively expect something of it. You bring all of yourself, after all, when you read, so your reactions depend on who you are (and remember that you're growing as a person too; who you are today is most certainly altered from who you were five or ten years ago). Your initial thoughts could change as the story progresses, but that initial taste whets your expectations. In other words, both these stories' beginnings set the tone for what else is to come. A good beginning grabs you, like bait on a hook grabs a fish, and the middle and end serve to reel you in.
Here's a beginning from "Gang Of Three", by Jas. R. Petrin (from Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, May 2008)
"You realize," Robideau pointed out, "I'm not a peace-officer anymore. I'm just filling in for Chief Butts until he gets back from his well-earned vacation. I don't have any official powers."
"But what we got here, Chief, is grand larceny, an' somebody's got to do somethin' about it!"
Seems plain enough, fairly catchy, but, for me, not that big a standout. But enough to draw me in, and move on through it. And I felt rewarded as a reader because the middle and end came out quite well. That story is nominated in the Best Short Story category at the 2009 Edgar Awards, sponsored by The Mystery Writers of America.
That's why I try my best to give stories a chance, in the hopes that I can luck out and come upon a tale whose opening lines may not have grabbed me by the lapels, but draws me in once I get to know it. Sort of like that girl (or guy) who didn't catch your fancy when you first saw her, for whatever reason (some of it your own fault, for sure), but over time, you find yourself, well, attracted and captivated. And wanting to know more. There are very good stories whose beginnings aren't as strong as they could have been, but somehow they make a comeback with a terrific middle or end, or both. The smooth slide inward, as opposed to being hauled right in. But whatever type of beginning you come upon, it's best that, as you give the stories a chance, you try to be as open as you can to the possibility that what you're reading could be a good story.
Keep in mind that a bad beginning is sure to kill outright whatever interest any reader might have. Some killers include poor choice of words, uneven tone or voice, confusing viewpoints, or poor grammar (unless called for by the characters of the story). A teacher in his late-forties once told me that he didn't have the patience or the time to wade through some of the stuff he had to read because his interest was killed right from the start due to bad beginnings. Man, I wouldn't have wanted to be under this Professor. I think I would've gotten a low grade, for sure. It's certainly easier to read than to write.
Mind you, having a good start does not excuse a story for slacking off in the middle or the end. That would be like a basketball team that plays well only in the first quarter and then mails it in for the next three. It'll all end up as wasted effort, and just add another notch to the "L" column. The best stories to read, of course, the ones with the "W's", are the tales whose great beginnings, middles, and ends, all work together toward a tale well told.
Would you like to share the great (or not so great) opening lines that you have read? :)
Update: Found a site with a quiz about opening lines in famous novels. You might want to give it a try, and then try and read all the novels listed there.
6 Comments:
John Paul hated school....What John Paul hated most was the way she kept teaching him things he already knew.
- The Polish Boy
This is the start of an OSC short story about Ender's father's childhood. This got me reading the whole compilation of short stories (which includes the original Ender's Game).
How does one describe Artemis Fowl? Various psychiatrists have tried and failed.
- Artemis Fowl
This is the start of the Fowl YA books. Immediately it shows that the reader's intelligence is not being insulted, and it gives us enough incentive to find out exactly how smart or how crazy Arty is.
First the colors. Then the humans. That's usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try. **HERE IS A SMALL FACT**You are going to die.
- The Book Thief
So you know the narrator is NOT human, and this YA book will be tackling some hard stuff like death. This is an excellent book, even by adult fiction standards.
EK 8 )
Hi, EK! I've read the Artemis Fowl books; I remember that opening line! My daughter has read them all too, just like you :).
I have The Book Thief. My brother gave it to me as a gift, but I haven't gotten to it yet. I'm looking forward to it, on your reco. :)
Haven't read The Polish Boy yet; don't think I have it, but I'll keep my eyes out for it. TY!
The Polish Boy is one of four stories in the compilation "First Meetings in Ender's Universe". Scifi sections of National Bookstore and A Different Bookstore should have it. Powerbooks may have it in the YA section. It has the original Ender's Game, two stories about Ender's parents (one being The Polish Boy), and Investment Counselor (which introduces the Jane in the sequel books).
I haven't read all the Fowl books, just the first and The Arctic Incident. I bought The Eternity Code recently.
The Book Thief is about World War II, in the eyes of a German girl (in contrast to many books that take the Jewish viewpoint). So most of the book is dry humor and sad stuff. But it's worth the read, definitely.
EK 8 )
Thanks again, EK! I'll get to the books you recommended as soon as I can.
I pulled a 9 out of 13 on the "opening lines" quiz, and two things surprised me. One was the fact that I recognized most of the opening lines by the first few words alone (i.e. I didn't need to read the whole passage). The other was the fact that I hadn't read Frank Herbert yet.
I used to start all my short stories with a single one-sentence paragraph of eight words or less. I felt that this got the reader into the flow of the story quickly -- it allowed them to imply something of what was going on, and usually led into a much longer second paragraph that confirmed their suspicions. I don't do it as often nowadays, but it was one of my first hard-and-fast rules.
Your score is pretty high, Sean!
And you should at least read "Dune".
:)
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