It’s no secret that Margaret Mitchell wrote in a haphazard fashion, writing the final chapter of Gone With the Wind first. When she sold her manuscript, it actually had no first chapter at all, and when she finally got around to writing that, she rewrote it several times. Even so, she was evidently never quite satisfied with it.
As a writer myself, I can understand Mitchell’s determination to try to get that first chapter just right, because a book’s opening is all important. Why? Because if you don’t hook an editor with your opening paragraphs, you’re usually not going to sell that editor your manuscript, and if your opening paragraphs don’t appeal to readers, they usually aren’t going to buy your book, either.
A while back, Alison Kent ran a contest on her blog, during which she posted a novel’s opening paragraphs, which she greatly admires:
The city sweltered.
Monsoon clouds, pregnant with rain, growled and grunted across a swollen
pewter sky. The dome of afternoon pressed down on the earth like a soggy
blanket, trapping the oppressive humidity and laying low even the most
fortitudinous, their bodies robbed of energy and their minds of will. Slashing
across the city, the river Hooghly crawled as if on leaden feet, waiting for the
gales that would whip it along and relieve it of its torpor. Not a leaf moved, not a
dust devil stirred; but in the very stillness there was promise. When the storm did
break it would bring with it blessed coolness and once again the earth would
breathe.But in the meantime, Calcutta sweltered.
Because I greatly admire those opening paragraphs, too, I recognized them the moment I saw them on Alison’s blog. They’re from Rebecca Ryman’s Olivia and Jai—and they’re what persuaded me to hand over my money for a hardback copy of what was Ryman’s first book.
Right now, I’m rereading one of my favorite novels, and as I began it, I was struck anew by how much its own opening paragraphs also appeal to me:
The sky was low and white and windless and by the time the body was found the jackals and the vultures had already found it too, so there was far less of a body than there had been once before, but one thing about it was clear and that was that it was white.
The whiteness might not be very unusual someplace else. Here on the far
shore of the Jumna River where the Taj Mahal lies one hundred miles to the
south, the Himalayas are some hundreds to the north, and but a few miles to the
east is India Gate, the center of the city, and the boulevard made of deep red sand
called the Road of Kings, it was.On the Road real kings and queens of the English sort and less real kings
of the Indian sort have traveled in their day, horses and elephants, low-backed cars
and probably even on foot, staff in hand, but the far shores of Jumna River was
not a place for kings or, really, anyone.I went there just to see it. The squalor stretched for miles. Even the fields
were dirty, full of refuse and hard dry earth, this all Delhi too, same as the Road of
Kings. But out here, nothing seemed alive, not in summertime, and it was hard to
believe any of this would ever regenerate.
Does anyone recognize those opening paragraphs? They’re from Lacey Fosburgh’s India Gate, and although at the time I bought the book, I was unfamiliar with Fosburgh and her work, they’re also what persuaded me to buy a hardback copy of India Gate.
Since, sheerly coincidentally, the above two examples happen to come from novels set in India, I’ll stick with that theme:
Ashton Hilary Akbar Pelham-Martyn was born in a camp near the crest of a pass
in the Himalayas, and subsequently christened in a patent canvas bucket.His first cry competed manfully with the snarling call of a leopard on the
hillside below, and his first breath had been a lungful of the cold air that blew
down from the far rampart of the mountains, bringing with it a clean scent of
snow and pine-needles to thin the reek of hot lamp-oil, the smell of blood and
sweat, and the pungent odour of pack-ponies.Isobel had shivered as the icy draught lifted the tent-flap and swayed the
flame in the smoke-grimed hurricane lamp, and listening to her son’s lusty cries
had said weakly: “He doesn’t sound like a premature baby, does he? I suppose
I—I must have—miscalculated…”She had: and it was a miscalculation that was to cost her dear. There are
few of us, after all, who are called upon to pay for such errors with our lives.
How about those opening paragraphs? Does anyone recognize them? They’re from M. M. Kaye’s The Far Pavilions, and like the first two examples, they’re what persuaded me to invest in a hardback copy, consisting of two volumes, no less, of The Far Pavilions when, at the time, I’d never heard of Kaye, either.
Believe it or not, India hadn’t ever particularly been my first choice for a place setting. But these three romantic novels gave me a deep appreciation for it. But had their opening paragraphs not drawn me in as a reader while I was standing there in the bookstore, I wouldn’t ever have bought these three books, because I didn’t know anything about their authors then.
From these examples, you can see one of the types of opening paragraphs that appeal to me as a reader. What about you? What hooks you on a novel? What opening paragraphs, if any, have stayed in your own mind over the years, so that you would recognize them anywhere?
No related posts.
As soon as I read the first sentence of the excerpt, I recognized Far Pavilions. What a stunning book! I haven’t read it in years and now must find a copy to reread.
One of the most memorable opening lines, for me, is from Gone With the Wind. “Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charms as the Tarlenton twins were.” That single sentence reveals so much about the woman.
I don’t know if a particular type of opening strikes me more than any other, but I can think of two that have stuck with me, probably because I love the books. They do set the tone for the novels, I think.
I bet most people will know where these two lines (not paragraphs) come from.
“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.”
“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents…”
“Summer, that vicious green bitch, flexed her sweaty muscles and flattened Innocence, Mississippi.” – Nora Roberts, Carnal Innocence
And the one from Without a Trace – I can’t remember it exactly. Something like: The whiskey was sharp and had the bite of an angry woman. Trace sucked it back and waited to die.
I wish I could find that one. I love it!
My taste in novels is obviously a lot more pedestrian because none of those opening paragraphs appealed to me at all. Especially the first one, with all the descriptions of pregnant clouds and swollen rivers. I prefer my opening paragraphs to be more action-oriented, as in, “A fist-sized rock landed on her head and knocked her to the ground.”
I just made that up, but that first line would grab me. I would be like, “Why? What happened? Who’s attacking her? Was it an accident?”
Just MHO. YOu can obviously tell that I’m more drawn to the suspense/mysteries.:mrgreen:
MP
‘I was fifteen years old when I first met Sherlock Holmes, fifteen years old with my nose in a book as I walked the Sussex Downs, and nearly stepped on him.’ [Laurie R. King 'The Beekeeper's Apprentice']
Someone linked me to her extract from the book, and by the time I’d read the opening paragraphs, I wanted to read it very badly. (Talking about books with Indian settings, I read Kim by Kipling because King’s book ‘The Game’ had Kim as a character – it’s a fantastic book too.)
‘There were crimson roses on the bench; they looked like splashes of blood. The judge was an old man, so old, he seemed to have outlived time and change and death.’ [Dorothy L. Sayers 'Strong Poison']
This was the first Sayers I ever read – was looking for something to read on the train ride home from university and happened on this. Still get a thrill every time I start the book.
And I love Pratchett’s beginnings and endings: ‘The rumour spread through the city like wildfire (which had quite often spread through Ankh-Morpok since it’s citizens had learned the words ‘fire insurance’). ‘The Truth’ or ‘They say that the prospect of being hanged in the morning concentrates a man’s mind wonderfully; unfortunately, what the mind inevitably concentrates on is that it is in a body that, in the morning, is going to be hanged. ‘Going Postal’
I also quite like the first Harry Potter line: ‘Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
As a rule, a very descriptive first paragraph, however beautifully written, wouldn’t sell me a book if I was browsing. Of the three examples you give, I’d be tempted by the third, where we’re into the story straight away – wondering why the child has so many names, or what his mother was doing up the Himalayas in an advanced stage of pregnancy in the first place.
My answer didn’t post first time – apologies if it appears later & I’ve repeated myself.
Descriptive first paragraphs wouldn’t appeal to me if I was browsing – of the three examples you give, the third is the one that tweaks my interest – I want to know who Ashton is, why he has so many names, and what is mother is doing in the Himalayas in her pregnant state.
Some first lines I love:
“I was fifteen when I first met Sherlock Holmes, fifteen years old with my nose in a book as I walked the Sussex Downs, and nearly stepped on him” [Laurie R King 'The Beekeeper's Apprentice]
“There were crimson roses on the bench; they looked like splashes of blood. The judge was an old man; so old, he seemed to have out-lived time and change and death.” [Dorothy L Sayers 'Strong poison']
“The rumour spread through the city like wildfire (which had quite often spread through Ankh-Morpok since it’s citizens learned the words ‘fire insurance’).”
“They say that the prospect of being hanged in the morning concentrates a man’s mind wonderfully: unfortunately, what the mind inevitably concentrates on is that it is in a body that, in the morning, is going to be hanged.” [Terry Pratchett 'The Truth', 'Going Postal'.]
and
“Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” [J.K. Rowling 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's stone.]
I love opening lines. They tend to be what hook me in. Some of my favorites are: Jane’s Warlord by Angela Knight, ‘They’d told him it wouldn’t hurt when the energy beam ripped him apart. They’d lied’. Lola Carlyle Reveals All by Rachel Gibson, ‘Of all the humiliations Lola Carlyle had suffered in her life-and the list was quite long and juicy-seeing her naked pictures on the internet was without a doubt the worst’. Dog Handling by Clare Naylor, ‘Francesca Honeycomb (oh, come on, if you think that in my fantasy life I’d be nobel enough to keep the name my parents gave me you’ve got me all wrong) lived a life without compromise. Also, one of my all-time favorites is the opening line in ‘Welcome to Temptation’ by Jennifer Crusie. I’m not going to type it out here, but it’s classic.
I agree with MP – I tend to be put off by opening paragraphs that are too descriptive. For me, the first line/paragraph has to immediately grab me by the throat and refuse to let go, it’s so intriguing. I really like the opening lines of Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones – “My name was Salmon, like the fish; first name Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 1973.” That’s not even the whole paragraph but it got me straight away.
Great opening lines, all!
Mary Stella…yes, when I pulled The Far Pavilions off my shelf for my post, I thought I really needed to reread all of Kaye’s books again…haven’t done it lately, and of course, they’re all wonderful.