Wrestling with that *%#@!! novel opening

How come it is that we can, with a mere glance, determine the effectiveness of the opening of someone else's novel and yet, despite experience and hard work, be unable to see our own clearly?

That's what's going on with me and the opening of one of my WIPs. I'm now moving on to the third way to open the story. Part of my motivation stems from the fact that I've sent out a few queries, received a couple of requests for partials, but no sale. I think the opening, where the query included the first few pages, may have limited the number of requests for partials. And that the first chapter may have stymied requests for fulls -- while technically containing all the right elements, it may be a case of throat-clearing, even though I had my logical reasons.

You've read my view on the story elements that need to be on the first page of a novel opening:

• Tension.
• Story Questions.
• Voice.
• Clarity.
• Scene setting.
• Characterization.
  

Visit with me the three openings to the story created so far while I think out loud about how they measure up to the notion that "compelling" is the desired result. If you have any input, it will be welcome.

First, just the first paragraphs of each version to see how much of a hook they contain:

Version 1:

Despite the trudge of 273 days, the death of my Graeme pierces me more now than the moment he died, the random victim of a crazed homeless man.

Now, I had thought this did a pretty good job of raising story questions. It seemed dramatic to me, and introduces a troubled character. But now that I examine it, maybe it doesn't do that good of a job. It tells me of an event in the past and how it affects the narrator, and maybe there's a little tension if you wonder why the character is thinking about this, but that's not a lot, is it?

Version 2:

A walk in Central Park brings with it the menace of an occasional muttering madman, but who would harass what appears to be an ordinary young couple in love? After enduring the reek of city streets, Graeme and I take the risk in return for a cleansing visit with nature. Holding hands, we stroll across the park's trampled lawn and meander past trees bright green with new spring leaves.

Some of the motivation for starting the story here was to provide the backstory hinted at in opening number 1 (Graeme's death), but in a fully realized chapter with conflict (there's a murder) and tension.

I worked to implant hints of jeopardy in this opening paragraph even though all that happens is that two people walk in a park -- I thought "the menace," "muttering madman," and "take the risk" would do the job.

But now I don't think so. It's still just two people walking in the park. There's no real jeopardy, no actual conflict. The tension, if there is any, is artificial. It's not "something will happen," but "something might happen." Maybe the hints aren't enough.

Version 3:

A narrow man in a black overcoat targets me with a small video camera. Alarm stabs into my gloom; I stop on the steps that rise to the Chicago Art Institute and turn my face away so his camera won't pierce my glamére -- an illusion of brown curls in place of my short platinum bob, and a dark tan, the inverse of my flesh, so white it sometimes looks bluish. Weary of dodging the objective eyes of lenses that see through the images we generate to fool beholders, I wish for the time when only touching could penetrate the deception of a glamére.

This is the opening du jour and, like all brand new stuff, so far it seems like it's doing the right things. The first two sentences suggest a threat to the narrator -- there's jeopardy ahead. Story question: what is it? Why does the narrator worry about his/her disguise being penetrated? What is he/she hiding from, and why? The rest of the paragraph lets us know that this is no ordinary person, but we don't how how, exactly. Who is the narrow man, and why is he "targeting" the narrator?

This opening also begins with the inciting incident, the key to a strong story discussed by Story author John McKee. It is the penetration of the character's ability to disguise his/her appearance that knocks the character's life out of balance, and creates in her the desire to avoid discovery that could lead to bad trouble for both her and her people, who have a need to remain hidden from ordinary society.

Does the opening paragraph alone have to do the job? Well, no. The three openings one more time, but including the next bit of narrative.

Version 1:

Despite the trudge of 273 days, the death of my Graeme pierces me more now than the moment he died, the random victim of a crazed homeless man.

No, not a random victim. I was there.

I was more than there.

If only I had. . .if only I had not. . .if-onlys torment me. It is said that pain diminishes with time, but I can testify that the ache of guilt does not. It grows until it eats your life.

Today it gets its last bite of mine.

I let my gaze drift for a last look and take in the eighty artless floors of the nearby Amoco Building, one of the glass-and-steel blights that mar the skyline, erected by the lessi for their myriad, scurrying purposes. Where I stand once opened a meadow cloaked with pure white snow, its future a summer of green grass and golden flowers. I have walked a deer path through it to a lake that seemed as vast as an ocean. Now the meadow is a massive pile of stone called the Chicago Art Institute, shrouded with snow the color of ashes, its future void of life. The lake is there still, no longer spilling onto a sandy shore but lashing at concrete revetments, its waters the color of metal instead of crystalline blue.

This does, I think, a better job. Of the story elements, there is character; voice; scene; story questions; some tension; clarity. But is it enough? I'm thinking that the long sixth paragraph, while hinting at the extraordinary nature of this character, slows the story momentum too much.

Version 2:

A walk in Central Park brings with it the menace of an occasional muttering madman, but who would harass what appears to be an ordinary young couple in love? After enduring the reek of city streets, Graeme and I take the risk in return for a cleansing visit with nature. Holding hands, we stroll across the park's trampled lawn and meander past trees bright green with new spring leaves.

Polished marble and welded metal forms still flicker through my mind, and I say, "I thought the Met's new sculpture exhibit was excellent."

Graeme shrugs. "Perhaps." He gestures at the people who plod through the park. "But there's little else of excellence from that sorry race."

While I am not fond of our unskilled cousins, I rebel at the unfairness of the bias against the lessi that Graeme inherited from his father. My contrary side rears its head. "There is plenty of good in them, and you know it."

Story elements: there is character; voice; scene; story questions; some tension; clarity. And the last paragraph introduces some level of conflict. Not the main conflict, but I intended it to be the "bridging conflict" that agent Donald Maass talks about. But now I'm thinking that it's not really gripping -- not compelling. Dang.

Part of my goal here was to create sympathy for the narrator (who loses her loved one), and the chapter worked well enough in that way. And it seemed like it dealt with an inciting incident, the thing that throws a character's life out of balance. But, actually, the true inciting incident happened in chapter two.

Version 3:

A narrow man in a black overcoat targets me with a small video camera. Alarm stabs into my gloom; I stop on the steps that rise to the Chicago Art Institute and turn my face away so his camera won't pierce my glamére -- an illusion of brown curls in place of my short platinum bob, and a dark tan, the inverse of my flesh, so white it sometimes looks bluish. Weary of dodging the objective eyes of lenses that see through the images we generate to fool beholders, I wish for the time when only touching could penetrate the deception of a glamére.

The tale of my great-great-grandmother writhing in flames compels me to obey the imperative for concealment. The early days of torture to extort confessions of devil worship from those of us who failed to conceal our abilities are gone, but the fear remains. Every clan family has a like story, and we are weaned on secrecy.

The narrow man's lips move, and the wind carries his words to my ear.

He says, "I think I got one."

Story elements: there is character; voice; scene; story questions; tension; clarity. I feel that impending conflict between the narrator and the narrow man is clear and interesting. And the information about her motive for concealment, fear of terrible consequences, definitely raises the jeopardy quotient.

So, today, I'm thinking that version three is the most interesting, and the most compelling. I may be there, may not -- but I'm not going to stop asking the tough questions.

Your thoughts?

For what it's worth,

Ray

Free edit. Email a sample for an edit that I can post here.

ARCHIVES .

© 2006 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[Tattieheid]

I read a lot of science fantasy but to be honest not much of the Urban Fantasy/Dark Fantasy that seems to be popular at the moment.

Version three would certainly pull me into the story, the other two seemed more like an intro to romantic fiction/thriller or at least too light/vague for the fantasy type novel I enjoy. Personal taste, I'm no expert.

Question - why the use of the French "Glamere" rather than the English Glamour? It stands out almost like it's glaring at me, but took me a while to realise the meaning and context. If you intend using more "Continental" phrasing throughout the novel, it will probably work fine. If you are just trying to set the "Arty" background as in their love of using pretentious phraseology, again that will probably work. If it's a one-off term it may act as a subconcious irritant, just personal instinct and taste.

As things stand I would happily read more of version 3. If the rest of the book lives up to these opening paragraphs I might even become a convert to Modern Fantasy. :)

Hope that helps.

[Therese Fowler]

Hi Ray--

You're on the right track with #3, but I have a suggestion or two for improvement:

First, I feel you're over-writing, just a little bit. Simplify in order to clarify--e.g. use "thin" for "narrow," "disguise" instead of "glamere" (which is a word I can't find a translation of in a quick search or through Google's translator--in sum, make it a little easier for the reader to tune into the truly important elements in the opening.

Using what you've supplied, I've written a version that, IMO, introduces immediate interest in both character and situation, and requires little or no "work" on the part of the reader:

"Guilt grows until it eats your life, a truth I know too well. Today it's getting its final bite of mine.

A thin man in a black overcoat targets me with a small video camera and I stop, alarmed, on the steps to the Chicago Art Institute. I turn away, so his camera can't pierce my disguise--a glamorous illusion of brown curls over my short platinum bob, and dark skin that is the inverse of my true color; my skin is so white it sometimes looks bluish.

Though I'm weary of dodging cameras, those eyes that can see through my disguises, I'm compelled to obey the imperative for concealment begun in early days, when clansmen who made the mistake of revealing their abilities spit out torture-induced confessions of devil worship. The tale of my great-great-grandmother writhing in flames cemented my need to remain apart.

The narrow man's lips move, and the wind carries his words to my ear.

He says, 'I think I got one.'"

I'm unfamiliar with your intended genre here, but storytelling of all kinds share common elements, as you know. Make it easy for any and all readers to engage (and to remain engaged) if your intention is to create a marketable (i.e. commercially viable) story.

In my experiences earning my MFA and teaching creative writing, I've found that talented writers sometimes try TOO hard to impress readers with fresh ways of seeing and saying things. Erudition is less impressive, and less effective, than clarity.

Good luck with your novel (and don't give up!)

[Tenda Madima]

Kindly forward me a lot of information regarding opening paragraphs in a novel, character development and a good way of setting up an attractive plot

[Alberto]

Hi Ray,

I recently stumbled onto your site and I'm very impressed with your skills as an editor/writer. How ironic that you're having trouble with your openings just like the rest of us. Articulating what's in our minds onto paper in an intriguing way is not as easy as it looks, and so I admire your sincerity for sharing your own difficulties with "openings", and your willingness to take a public flogging of your own. So here goes. (And I stick to your disclaimer of how subjective writing is.)

First of all, I like the idea and tension of someone targeting you with a video camera. However, I preferred Version 1. It is simple, straightforward, and to-the-point. I think it does raise an intriguing story question and sets the story in motion. The other versions, for my taste, tend to "reach" and sound overwritten.

Version 2 starts out with what seems to be interior monologue, then switches to the narrator, and this method continues throughout. I like the "voice" but inserting so much interior monologue so early on (before character voices are well established in the readers mind) can get a bit confusing. (Maybe I need a nap)

I also was stopped "cold" with words like "glamere". Also (my) Graeme is vague until we find out it is indeed a person. "Graeme" (aside from its awkward spelling and pronunciation issues) is introduced with the possessive pronoun (my), before he is known to be a person. Just awkward for me and takes me out of the story right away.

Version 3: "Alarm stabs into my gloom;" (This entire version is too artsy for me)"I stop on the steps" sounds choppy since both words are short and begin with an "S". How about: "I froze on the steps"...

Overall Ray, I think that when you write in simpler terms like in Version 1 (Hemingway would've liked this version) and not try so hard to convey what you're trying to say, that it flows better. In other words, your writing is more effective when you stick to the core of your story and tell it true and simple from the outset. You can always embellish later, preferably in the final draft.

In case you don't have this link, let me recommend a good site for "openings".
www.storyispromise.com, an excellent resource.

I'll hopefully get my own flogging from you if I can work up the nerve to post my 16 lines. BTW, I love the name "Flogging The Quill". An excellent name for your book!

Good luck Ray, thank you for all the generous reviews. Bottle this up into a nice package and with aggresive marketing, you're sure to have a bestseller.