McAnally's (The Community Pub) > Author Craft
The first line
Shecky:
--- Quote from: neurovore on March 28, 2008, 05:25:25 PM ---This is really not necessarily true; or at least, of the agents and editors I've talked to about this, the consensus is, if it's worth picking up in the first place, it's worth reading the first chapter/thirty-to-forty pages of, specifically because not every shape of story starts with a hook or wants to.
--- End quote ---
But you're saying precisely what I was saying, just from the other side of the same coin - I was speaking of readers more than of agents/editors, since it's the reader's attention that matters in the end. The sector of the reading population that DOES open a book in the store and look at the first page (a sizeable sector) can be sold or turned off by that first page alone; once they've seen that opener, only THEN does the rest of the book matter. In the end, however, as I said, the whole book must live up to that opener or there won't be any RETURN business by that sector.
I specifically did not mention "hook" - there's a difference between a hook and a good opener. A good opener does not necessarily grab the reader, but it DOES pique his interest, whereas a pure-and-simple hook runs the risk of incurring a "Yeah, and?" from the reader.
Fantasie117:
I'm good at starting pieces, but man, I can't finish a long story for anything. When I'm at work, I see a lot of books on how to start a story. The whole idea of the "hook" and how important the first few pages are to getting the reader's attention. I can do that. A good ending, though. That's skill.
During my senior year of college, I had to write two stories, 75-100 pages each. One in the fall, and one in the spring. They both sort of just stopped because I'd run out of time and the semester was over. The fall semester's opening was: "I light a cigarette as the shack burns." I'm in the process of rewriting the story, but I kind of like that opening.
I've written more nonfiction pieces, mostly newspaper articles, and I really enjoyed writing leads. While most of my classmates hated leads, I had a lot of fun with them. It's the same idea as fiction. One or two sentences to grab the reader. One time, I wrote a piece on traveling to London, and the lead was: "London is calling." The follow-up began with: "London called. I answered. And it was good."
Tempus Corvus:
This isn't a first line of a book, just of a chapter.
"Clink-clink-clink-clink. I didn’t know how Alketh had obtained a tin cup, given that our captors had made sure we had no metal accessible, but that was beside the point. The point was, I was dangerously close to taking it and bludgeoning him with it."
LizW65:
Here's my first line:
"Eighteen months ago, Jerry Straight left his Times Square office to get three corned beef sandwiches and a pack of Chesterfields, and vanished off the face of the earth."
terioncalling:
Behold, the beginning lines and/or paragraphs from a handful of my stories and drabbles...
Medi Varnl, Book 1: Feloinain
Horac swung his fist at Tristol, knuckles connecting solidly with the younger boy’s cheek. The slightly taller fifteen-year-old was slung to the ground by the fierce blow and landed face down in the trampled grass and dirt beneath their feet. As he fell the cap he’d been wearing flew off, letting loose a curtain of shoulder length dark hair and a pair of furry ears that were far from human.
Black Chaos
I had no childhood; at least, not any that I remember. Any memories before my thirteenth year just don’t exist anywhere in my head. Not lost. Gone.
Cleave
Handcuffs are number one on the list of things uncomfortable to wear.
Bones, a Love Story of Sorts
Birds chirped, a cool breeze rustled the leaves, and all seemed to be well around Sothan to Kalya. The young woman that had just passed into her twentieth year a few days ago turned where she stood and frowned at the jungles that seemed every year to get closer and closer.
Vampire Dust, Book 1: In the Darkness All Alone
Waking up with the scent of blood in your nose, I’ve discovered, is no fun way to wake up. Especially if you’re not exactly sure why you can smell it at all.
Medi Varnl, Book 2: Whekai
I am Julienka Moldrenke-Whebon. Though I would more gladly claim the name Bailn to be mine as that is the name of the man I gave my heart and body to. But it cannot be so.
Medi Varnl, Book 5: Pirate
Jumping off a ship in the middle of the ocean wearing nothing but a pair of ragged cloth pants that have seen many better days and some hastily put on bandages made from the remains of an equally ragged shirt is not the brightest idea. But when you’ve been captured by pirates that you know for certain kill anyone they take captive from a ship they’ve raided after they ply them for information…jumping into the ocean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.
A Magical Burden
Paper rustled and dark leather gloves carefully held the wanted poster as frightened hazel eyes stared at it. There was a rustle of claws then and a rough voice growled, “Looks like they’ve upped the bounty.”
Unnamed
The world isn’t as nice as some might think.
Drabble: Eyesight to the Blind
“Mistletoe,” murmured the woman as she crouched next to the corpse, using a pencil to lift his hand. The green springs and red berries stared back at her and she cursed, dropping her head into her non-gloved hand. “Shit, he was a practitioner.”
Drabble: Hit the Ground
“Just make sure you hit the ground on your feet,” my Dad used to say. “So long as you land upright, you’ll do fine. Land on your back and there’ll be trouble coming to you.”
Drabble: Meant to Live
So, thought Terrence as he glanced around, this is it. Death.
Drabble: People Are Strange
“You are strange,” commented Varin as he gave Ziggy a sideways glance. He was still trying to figure out just why she was called that as nothing about her zigged. Or zagged. Or anything else with a ‘z’.
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