We open in Venice . . .

[eimarra]

The February Ask Oxford newsletter contained a pointer to a discussion of John Mullan's new book, How Novels Work. The Website has an excerpt on openings, which, of course, made me think about my own openings for novels.

I looked at them all and came to no conclusions. I don't know that any of them are "resonant" or examples of my "narrative spirit and confidence." I do know that for most of them, reading the opening sentence pops me back into the world of the book, living with the characters in their problems. All I can do is hope that readers will be drawn in to feel the same way, maybe even rereading the books.

Opening lines are as written below:


Changeling (2003 NaNo; complete rewrite someday; contemporary YA fantasy)

Summer looked down at the note in her hand. It was the only tangible evidence she had of her father.

***

Christmas Tree Farm Murders (2004 NaNo; in edit queue; cozy mystery)

Isobel counted out twenty-five dollars into Drew Scott's hand.

***

Four Lakes (2005 NaNo; in progress; contemporary fantasy)

Four Lakes City, a city of glass and clean lines, where form follows function, sits on a thin isthmus between two bottomless lakes -- at least, no one has ever found the bottom and come back to tell of it, and the Navy gave up on sonar after the kraken took out their third ship, so now the residents just call the lakes bottomless to scare away the tourists.

***

Shadowed Sight (in progress; traditional fantasy)

Aliya Grimeye hadn't deliberately hidden her origins from her employer.

***

Bodyguard of Lies (2006 NaNo; currently editing; SF)

Sabra slammed her locked fists into the small of Lipinski's back. He reeled across the ring, tripping over his own feet.

***

Sekhmet's Secrets (Ivory & Bone) (in progress; urban fantasy)

The crowd at the museum was just as I'd pictured it, except for one small detail--the woman in the tweed skirt dogging the docent's heels.

***

Witchy Woman (2007 NaNo; in edit queue; urban fantasy)

Revenge is a sticky business, but it's also lucrative.

***

Phoenix (in progress; middle-grade SF)

The boy who would be known as Phoenix Anderson fell for a very long time.

============
Note that both Four Lakes and Phoenix are working titles only.

Comments

[marfisk]

That's quite a list of manuscripts, Erin :). And interesting beginning lines.

[slobbit.livejournal.com]

I looked at them all and came to no conclusions. I don't know that any of them are "resonant" or examples of my "narrative spirit and confidence."

I'm not convinced they reflect your "narrative spirit and confidence" either.

If I may say, and I will anyway, they seem flat and too proper. They're close -- I can see a good opening line in each of them -- but they seem stifled to me.

I think a lot of finding "voice" is learning how to break grammar in ways that fit your story and way of working.

Maybe try duct tape and strong rope on the editor for a while? ;-)

[bonniers.livejournal.com]

I'm also drawn most to the last two, though I'd probably keep reading most of the stories. They get to the point. I expect coherent stories in workmanlike, slightly formal prose that gets to the point and doesn't dance around. They tell the reader what they're going to get: good honest entertainment.

Things you might want to think about:

I don't get genre out of most of them. I don't get much setting from them. They all seem vaguely contemporary, except for Phoenix and Four Lakes.

One thing I don't see in these lines that I know is in your writing is the wit. Four Lakes is the only ones that capture any of that.

I wouldn't say any of them are the novel in miniature, either, though Sabra's opening might come close. I'm not sure whether that matters. A great opening line to a great book is a wonderful thing, but most of the time it's enough to just draw the reader to the next sentence.

[eimarra]

I don't think an opening line has to be the novel in miniature; it's certainly not something I work toward. Drawing the reader onward *is* my primary goal.

I just glanced at the closest genre book and checked out its first line--Urban Shaman, by C.E. Murphy. "There's nothing worse than a red-eye flight." It's contemporary, has voice, and might draw the reader on (from agreement, mostly--is that different from resonance?), but it doesn't encapsulate the novel. It also gives no hint of genre, and for setting, only shows that the book opens on an airplane. Important, but certainly doesn't last through the book.

My point here, I guess, is that I think maybe if the readers keep reading, that's all an opening has to accomplish.

Not that I'm not planning to edit these novels, and I certainly know that the opening lines may change. But I'm not looking for immortal lines--as you said, just "good honest entertainment."

[slobbit.livejournal.com]

Grabbing the most readily available to me:

"I did two things on my seventy-fifth birthday."

Tells me I've got a straight-forward character, and already -- I don't know why -- but something says to me: wry sense of humor. And it begs the question that makes me read the rest of the paragraph.

"I visited my wife's grave. Then I joined the army."

And I'm hooked.

I don't think the first sentence should encapsulate novel, or say much about genre or setting -- though it can. Certainly, the first paragraph as a whole should contribute substantially to the latter two. Scalzi, in the above example, does -- I'm immediately aware we are elsewhere if a 75 year old coot is enlisting.

A favorite of mine is the opening for kijjohnson's Fudoki:

I am the princess Harueme, daughter of Fujiwara no Enyu and the emperor we now call Go-Sanjo. More to the point, I am old and I am dying.

Which shows that for me, personally, possibly because of some degree of autism, I require to know character above all else at the start.

But that's why there are a myriad of ways.

(and oh, crap! I need to get dressed for some practice before work!)

[eimarra]

Scalzi fangirl that I am, I did recognize this from the first sentence. :-)

[bonniers.livejournal.com]

Interesting. I picked up Urban Shaman at the bookstore a couple of years ago, and put it down because the opening didn't grab me :) I hear no voice at all in it. Which means it's doing the most important job: connecting to readers of the genre, of which I am not one.

The line about encapsulating the novel was from the essay we started from. I'm thinking that except for a certain kind of literary fiction, he's just plain wrong.