My extended family owns an old country house with loads of fiction books, a fair bit of it genre fiction from the 50s and 60s.
We have a great game that we play when we go up there with friends, a bit like the Dictionary game/Balderdash. Everyone peruses the shelves a picks out a promising book. Then, one round at a time, someone gives the title of their book, reads the back, and maybe reads a few choice paragraphs from the middle or end, giving everyone a sense of the book.
Then everyone writes down an opening line on a slip of paper. The book-holder writes down the real first line. The slips are shuffled and the book-holder reads each of them, preferably dramatically. Everyone votes on the real one.
Writing first sentences is such a delightful exercise. And of course with genre fiction everyone has the license to go completely over the top. With the right group of people it's utterly hilarious, and it's amazing how frequently someone writes a sentence that seems better than the original.
(A random one I recall: a pot-boiled detective noir novel, involving a murder victim named Sunday: "If Sunday had known on Monday that on Tuesday she'd be dead, she would have made several different choices.")
Neat game. I have a board game, whose name escapes me at the moment. Instead of books, players receive cards, and tell stories about the cards, the player whose turn it is tells a story about their card, and then others hand them a card that they think matches the story, and then everyone has to guess whose card is the player's. If everyone guesses, player gets no points and everyone else 2. If no-one guess, player gets no points either. But if at least 1 person guesses, players gets 2 points, and thoseguessed correctly and who produced cards that other people guessed can get points too.
I believe the game they are referring to is Dixit. It is a great way to share in each other’s creativity. The game’s scoring incentives keep the story telling from being gamed in a way that diminishes the fun.
Similar games, where you lobby others with creativity, are:
Snake Oil. When I’m not gaming, I love defining customer needs and determining benefits in the sales process. Snake Oil is a light game that lets me practice these skills with my friends and giggle about something I normally take seriously.
Funemployed. Each player takes turns as the recruiter for a job that was randomly drawn from the deck. Each other player assembles personality trait and skill cards and then interviews for the position weaving each trait into their pitch. You’ll need to remove some cards to make it PG.
Rory’s Story Cubes. A light dice rolling story prompt activity. Roll the dice and tell a story by referring to the symbols shown.
There are more games that cultivate story telling and let creativity shine. You can poke around BoardGameGeek[1], but games with the storytelling tag vary wildly and rules complexity can be high.
Each game causes different dynamics to emerge between players and that atmosphere is critical. You don’t want to play a game that will bum people out instead of fire up their creativity.
These games can be great team building exercises too!
Feel free to reach out with your play group’s preferences and player count. I’d love to help you have a blast the next time you game! Joe at FiremindGames dot com.
Snake Oil is really fun. So much cleverer than the usual Apples to Apples or CAH because it both gives you way more options (the combinatorics of the two cards) and requires creativity in salesmanship. My 7 year old can hold her own now, and, while the 5 year old needs to be told what the cards are, her sales pitch is spot on. ("So you're a pirate. You know the biggest problem for pirates, of course. You've seen it all the time. Gold lice. Well, with this wonderful...")
Rory’s Story Cubes we played a few times but couldn't quite feel like it was a game enough. The kids will sometimes tell a quick story, but it doesn't last more more than five minutes.
Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice
Gabriel Garcia Marquez's opening line from One Hundred years of Solitude was enough for me to pick up the book. Personally, I feel that this is one of the best openings of any book I've read.
Maybe it is from all the years I have spent trying to trim my overly verbose writing, but "was to remember" grates on me as a needlessly inflated way of saying "remembered."
The Spanish original is "había de recordar", and "was to remember" is a good translation.
It's meaning is different from just "remembered", as it implies a causality. It wasn't a random remembrance that just happened, it was some memory that was brought by the proximity of death.
"was to remember" doesn't imply causality any more than "remembered" does.
"could not help but remember" would've been a much better translation, and even has the similarity that the usage is less common and more literary (i speak Spanish).
I'm no English major but let me explain why it works for me. Firstly, there is a different tense between "was to remember" and "remembered". The former maintains the vantage point of now; we're not quite there, we're looking to the future still. Secondly, the passive voice of the former creates a juxtaposition of its more clinical style against the setting of a firing squad. Both of these choices serve to stop us from putting ourselves directly in the mind of Buendia. Strangely, counterintuitively, it strengthens the impact on us of the scenario when the full meaning finally lands, which the dispassionate narrative style has obfuscated.
It seems to escape English writers (at least at college level) that different ways of writing have different meanings and connotations, which may be necessary in some situations. Another example is the passive voice that is derided in college circles as if there was no good way to use it (yes, there are many).
I'm unsure if you've read this novel, but the translation "was to remember" actually works well here, and was probably a deliberate choice. The cycles of time are a major theme in the story.
I agree but the author might be implying that this was not the first thought and that creates dramatic tension. What triggered the memory? Was he recalling it on purpose to inform his next move? Was he forced to remember because the leader of the firing squad also figured in the memory but he didn't realize it at first?
I love this opening and it’s one I think about more than I should. I recently read his Chronicle of a Death Foretold and it’s opening felt drawn from this one.
Toni Morrison’s Beloved opening is breathtaking as well.
Trying to think of a catchy or clever novel opener can be a major discouragement from just getting the pen to the paper and formulating that first paragraph.
It can be much easier to start your writing a bit further in, where you have a rough idea of a scene, and letting the characters and the action work themselves.
In fact, this is a good way to create bridges through tricky parts, where you know the current scene, the scene after the next one but no idea how it got there. Instead of struggling with the blank page for too long, skip the unknown scene and keep writing. And later on you'll likely have a good plan for filling in the bridge.
It's much easier to go back and fill in the gaps when you've figured out the 'voice' of your novel, and have a good understanding of the characters and their quirks.
You may also realise you can cut so many of the gratuitous scenes that were useful in your mind for connecting A to B in terms of worldbuilding and plot progression, but are extraneous to the reader.
reminded me of this great piece of writing advice from Simpsons writer John Swartzwelder:
" I do have a trick that makes things easier for me. Since writing is very hard and rewriting is comparatively easy and rather fun, I always write my scripts all the way through as fast as I can, the first day, if possible, putting in crap jokes and pattern dialogue—“Homer, I don’t want you to do that.” “Then I won’t do it.” Then the next day, when I get up, the script’s been written. It’s lousy, but it’s a script. The hard part is done. It’s like a crappy little elf has snuck into my office and badly done all my work for me, and then left with a tip of his crappy hat. All I have to do from that point on is fix it. So I’ve taken a very hard job, writing, and turned it into an easy one, rewriting, overnight. I advise all writers to do their scripts and other writing this way. And be sure to send me a small royalty every time you do it."
I use this technique for my work writing, I first read about it as "vomit draft". When you give yourself permission to write a truly vomitous first draft, man it's easier. Even if you completely rewrite it, it's a fantastic way to get your thoughts in order.
The idea that an author would just sit down and write a novel starting from the first line seems alien. Like a film not getting made because the director obsesses over the opening shot. Seems like a detail that should fall into place only once much of the groundwork has been laid.
Serial fiction has always been a thing. Most novels 150 years ago were written for magazines. Only in the past century did the write a novel as a complete book really take off. Even then though, authors often wrote trilogies where you wrote a third at a time. (publishers like this because people hooked on the first book at the library or discount store would buy the second and third at full price when it came out). Now in the web world a lot of great authors have figured out that patron and doing a chapter a week (or some schedule) is the most profitable way to write.
Amazon is getting in on the serialization game as well. Kindle Vella is about to be launched. Writers can release stories a chapter at a time, and charge a fee for each one after the first few chapters, which are free.
My wife has been writing in preparation for it, already has three chapters written and intends to have at least six when she launches. I've helped her come up with some ideas for it, and been her sounding board.
I was intending to write for it myself but I haven't quite landed on an idea I think could work in serialized form and I feel compelled to write yet.
Related to your point, George C Scott apparently didn’t want to film the opening scene of “Patton” because he thought the movie wouldn’t live up to the scene. It really gets at the heart of what the whole movie is about and I can’t imagine it without that opening. Apparently they filmed it at the end of filming.
Ray Bradbury did this with Farenheit 451. He did a small demo with all the key aspects and then made the novel.
You can do a lot of these small "demos" or short stories and save them for a future novel. Or instead write them together and make an anthology, like the Poe stories.
To me, Joseph Conrad will always be the best writer of openings. At times, they can be a bit too descriptive, but if you take your time, the atmosphere-building is worth it. He also frequently uses a layering technique, where the narrator reports someone or something else that contains the actual story. Heart of Darkness famously does this. I'll take this approach over an attention-grabbing line any day.
Here's one of my favorites, from Karain: A Memory:
We knew him in those unprotected days when we were content to hold in our hands our lives and our property. None of us, I believe, has any property now, and I hear that many, negligently, have lost their lives; but I am sure that the few who survive are not yet so dim-eyed as to miss in the befogged respectability of their newspapers the intelligence of various native risings in the Eastern Archipelago. Sunshine gleams between the lines of those short paragraphs—sunshine and the glitter of the sea. A strange name wakes up memories; the printed words scent the smoky atmosphere of to-day faintly, with the subtle and penetrating perfume as of land breezes breathing through the starlight of bygone nights; a signal fire gleams like a jewel on the high brow of a sombre cliff; great trees, the advanced sentries of immense forests, stand watchful and still over sleeping stretches of open water; a line of white surf thunders on an empty beach, the shallow water foams on the reefs; and green islets scattered through the calm of noonday lie upon the level of a polished sea, like a handful of emeralds on a buckler of steel.
Edit: if you listen to the audiobook, you can really hear the beauty of his language. Especially the intro.
A lot of writing advice focusses on writing the perfect first line/page/chapter, because that's all editors/agents will read.
And so I find many books have great openings, but get boring in 2nd chapter.
So if Im in a store, I always start browsing a book after the 1st chapter-- that gives me a better idea of what the book will be like.
And this advice-- open a book with a "killer" opening isnt always true. When I was doing a writing course with Dean Smith, he had us analyse the openings of our favourite book. For me, at that time, was Jurassic Park.
If you havent read the book, the first chapter is leisurely and slow, talking about a minor character who feels bored at her job as an island doctor. But that chapter is masterfully written, as the very last line hints that there is trouble in paradise, and sets up the main story.
Compared with the movie, which starts in the middle of action, but the scene is dark and confusing, and I always skip it on repeat viewings.
A parallel with software would be shareware games. Often the first free chapter was the best the game would ever get. John Romero advocated for "finishing the first level last", in order to make it best.
Music also felt like this for me (in games), e.g.: the opening themes to Doom, Tyrian, Raptor are very memorable.
What I loved about Half-life demo-- it was a completely new level not in the original game--but it still had all the main things that made the game fun (aliens, marines, puzzles etc).
For music -- I guess you do need a killer opening, as people will change the channel (or click away) (unless you are already very famous).
"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy.
And here is an advice from Anton Chekhov: “My own experience is that once a story has been written, one has to cross out the beginning and the end. It is there that we authors do most of our lying.”
There was this character of an aspiring, wanna-be writer in "Plague" (by A. Camus), named Joseph Grand, who obsesses over the first sentence of his novel. He'd keep on rewriting it infinitely, never getting beyond it. "Perfection spells p-a-r-a-l-y-s-i-s", as the man said (Churchill, if I'm not mistaken).
For what it's worth, I considered quoting Plague's first sentence here (if it were somehow fitting or interesting), and as I googled it up, I found an article devoted to this very subject: https://theconversation.com/first-sentences-establish-a-cont...
I didn't find Plague's opener to be particularly inspiring after all, but there are a few other examples.
The Plague's opening is very prosaic, since that's sort of the voice and the point, that even extraordinary events are meaningless except in the importance we attach to them personally.
The opening of The Stranger is much more grabby and also revealing for the narration. It has also presented something of a challenge for translators. I like Matthew Ward's "Maman died today." It's accurate, and neatly shows that infantile quality that Meursault's internal narration has.
I'm surprised that the author of the article did not include the classic "It was a dark and stormy night" [1]. Granted it's probably a bad way to start a novel, but it's a famous and a catchy way to start a novel to get the reader's attention.
It's kinda amusing that this particular opening line is considered terrible in English literary tradition. I would argue that it's the rest of the sentence that makes it a terrible opening — it keeps going on about the weather while most people presumably would rather start reading about the main character and his actions at this point already, — but the line as quoted is perfectly fine on its own.
Agreed. "It was a dark and stormy night.", full stop, would be a perfectly cromulent opening sentence in its own right. It's punchy, fairly evocative, and it has excellent meter.
Well, I don't know many stormy nights that are not dark... I am not a writer but usually, the idea is to limit repetition, especially in the opening line.
You're not wrong, but I get a different feeling from "dark and stormy" than just "[i]t was a stormy night". The former is almost foreboding, and maybe suggests a particularly long night - perhaps winter? I don't get that from the latter.
You can convey the same feeling in a more effective way, but I don't think it's awful.
I've been living out in the country for the last year and I can say that out here nights do have different qualities depending on the phase of the moon, etc.
While we are on the topic, this sentence has spawned the Bulwer Lytton Fiction Contest, in which participants try to come up with the most atrocious first sentences to hypothetical novels [0].
Although I personally much prefer the Lyttle Lytton Contest [1] which is pretty much the same but with tight restrictions on the maximum length of the sentences. Highly recommend reading through some of the winners over the years, there are some gems in there.
Perhaps you have trouble with endings?
One way around this is to take the big, dramatic opening and make it your ending. Then work back from what happened before.
Once you have worked your way to the beginning, you can write it.
I think the author over blows the significance of the first sentence in a novel. It never happened to me to abandon a book because I didn't like first sentence.
Having said that, surprising opening is a thing. For instance the greatest Polish patriotic epic poem starts with: "O Lithuania, my country, thou Art like good health;". Which nowadays is kind of unexpected...
I agree, I find the first page is about the right length to get right. (first page is generally half a page). The first sentence needs to set a scene, and so it can't give enough information about the future action or if I will even care about the people. If you are a bad author I'll know in the first few paragraphs, but never after one sentence.
Do people really read the first sentence and then stop? If I'm going through the effort of opening the book, then I'll read at least a little more than the first line.
“Into the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the shifty hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to speak French.”
> If that opening sentence tries too hard, or holds no special friction, the book slips from its holder’s hands – back onto the table, or the shelf, ready to be replaced with a magazine, or a snack, or a screaming child.
I’d love to know a first line amazing enough that one would ignore their own child?
I think the writer may also be a little crazy, because a magazine or a snack can be considered as recreational activities that you can replace a book with, but it takes a special kind of person to consider a screaming child as recreational.
> the first line is frequently the only line a reader reads.
Never have I done that. Most people will give it at least half a chapter.
A typical reader will already have an idea of what they're getting themselves into - from being familiar with the author, reviews, or blurb. They're not going to put your book down just because your opening isn't something clever.
You don't want readers to think about how clever you are anyways. You want them to be immersed in your story, if a story is what you're selling.
The first chapter, like any other part of your story, should be interesting, but there's absolutely nothing wrong with starting it as you would chapter five.
A fabulous first line, from The Crow Road by Iain Banks. Doubly good for me since a friend asked me for a recommendation for an interesting read, and I later discovered that he had sent it, unread, to his grandmother for her birthday.
Semi-related, I don’t understand how authors can pour so much work into a book and let it be published with a mediocre cover and backmatter. The old saying is just the opposite. A bad and cliche cover is the real death sentence for a book. And the summary on the back, that’s almost more important than the first chapter! Do authors and publishers really believe that smattering reviews on the backside would somehow impress a reader? “I love this book” says New York Times. Okay…? What’s the pull?
IMO the backside of the book should be written in the style of the novel rather than a marketing pitch. Let the reader get a glimpse of the story from the main character’s perspective in their own words.
Unless you're talking about self publishing, most authors don't get a strong say in how the book looks. That's up to the publishers. And it's my understanding that publishers really do believe those pull quotes really do affect sales.
Traditionally-published authors usually have little say in the layout of their books. I’ve heard of cases where authors have absolutely hated the cover artwork chosen by the publishing houses but were unable to sway opinions.
It’s part of the process of going with a traditional publisher. They do the marketing for you, as compared to self publishing, and therefore you have to accept their ‘marketing’ decisions, including cover design.
How about „When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton”?
Arguably less mindblowing. The first sentence test is useful, but there are type-2 errors.
We have a great game that we play when we go up there with friends, a bit like the Dictionary game/Balderdash. Everyone peruses the shelves a picks out a promising book. Then, one round at a time, someone gives the title of their book, reads the back, and maybe reads a few choice paragraphs from the middle or end, giving everyone a sense of the book.
Then everyone writes down an opening line on a slip of paper. The book-holder writes down the real first line. The slips are shuffled and the book-holder reads each of them, preferably dramatically. Everyone votes on the real one.
Writing first sentences is such a delightful exercise. And of course with genre fiction everyone has the license to go completely over the top. With the right group of people it's utterly hilarious, and it's amazing how frequently someone writes a sentence that seems better than the original.
(A random one I recall: a pot-boiled detective noir novel, involving a murder victim named Sunday: "If Sunday had known on Monday that on Tuesday she'd be dead, she would have made several different choices.")