HISTORICAL FICTION | FIRST LINES
How often have we started to read historical fiction and the first line is boring? And if the next one and the paragraph are boring too, will we keep reading? We want to be hooked straight away. Long back story or scene setting at the beginning can cause the reader to put the book down and say, I’ll get back to it later, or skip through pages to the action.
Has the writer started with the weather or lengthy exposition of something she believes is essential for the reader to know immediately? If so, the writer needs to be a master craftsperson at wrangling those words to keep the interest up. Just how much exposition we will wear depends on our level of trust in the author and interest in the story. The first lines are of the utmost importance; especially if something essential to the plot is revealed there.
So how can we grab the reader and encourage her to read on?
- Let’s start with first person narrative. Is your story starting with the word I? Isak Dinesen’s Out of Africa, “I had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills” must be one of the simplest but loveliest beginnings to a book. The wistful first words spoken in memory of Karen Blixen’s heartbreak for the farm and country she loved epitomise the nature of the memoir. I was hooked.
- Sarah Waters can certainly get our heart racing with her first line in Affinity, “I was never so frightened as I am now.” Similarly, Kate Morton’s The Shifting Fog starts with, “Last night I had a nightmare.” Whoa, what foreboding words they write. I’m scared and curious all at once and keep on reading.
- In the third person, Chris Cleave’s, Everyone Brave is Forgiven starts out how he means to go on, “War was declared at 11.15 and Mary North signed up at noon.” Another simple beginning that tells us immediately that the book is about World War 2 and Mary North is the protagonist. We know immediately that Chris has a straightforward style to tell his story. We trust him.
- What does the opening Leo Tolstoy’s, Anna Karenina tell us: “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” If Anna was part of a jolly, happy family we might not read on, but we know she isn’t happy and want to know why.
We only have one chance to make an attention-grabbing opening, one that hooks the reader into the story and compels her to read on. Let’s not waste that opportunity.