Mon 22 Jun 2009
The Lure of a strong first sentence
Posted by Gay Degani under advice, characters, craft, every day fiction, flash
[6] Comments
Consider lightning. This phenomenon cracks open the sky, takes our breath away, but we might miss it if not for the warning of thunder. We hear the deep rumble, we look up, tension sparking the air, and wait for the flash. Thunder grabs our attention and lightning dazzles our eyes, and together they stir our hearts.
Flash Fiction is fast, a 1000 words or less, every sentence written with purpose, not a word to waste. And if this statement is true, it’s even truer for the first few words.
In a story, especially a short story, the opening sentence, like thunder, arrests our attention, charms us, makes us curious. If it doesn’t, we’ll turn our heads, move on, and miss the show.
Consider the following examples from Every Day Fiction’s Top Ten List.
We were children, not lovers, but as we lay on the grass looking at stars, talking of angels, she took my hand and said that a moment can change everything. One Bright Moment, by Joel Willans.
“You are my heart and muscle, Yardi,” Napier would say. “There is no criminal in all of Marseilles who can stand against us.” Without Napier, by Michael Ehart.
Do they create tension? Do they conjure up an image? How much do they tell the reader about character, plot, and setting? What do they promise the reader? Do they have a rhythm that seduces? In other words, do they rumble?
Although not every first sentence can fulfill every purpose, a well-crafted one will announce, at the very least, something is about to happen.
What is “about to happen” in “One Bright Moment?”
Two children are star-gazing, talking of angels, and one says “a moment can change everything.” The reader might be thinking, “what kind of moment?” A good one? Bad one?
Is there tension?
The two main characters, a boy and a girl, are talking about angels. This might suggest to a reader that death is lurking down the page or perhaps an illness. The reader knows the peaceful first moment is brief.
Is there an image?
Children on their backs in the grass close enough to each other to join hands.
What does the first line promise?
This boy and girl are “not lovers,” but the reader might wonder, will they be lovers, and is this what this story is about? Or will it be about what stands in their way, what will change in a moment?
What is “about to happen” in “Without Napier,” the second example.
Two men work as an “invincible” team against the criminal element, but the reader senses that one of the partners is no longer around through the words, “Napier would say…” This perception is reinforced by the title of the story.
Is there tension?
Each of the two characters, Napier and Yardi, has his own skill set. The reader understands that if Yardi is the heart and muscle, then Napier must be the brains. If one of the partners is gone and the other must fight alone, will he survive?
Is there an image?
An implied image of two men working together on the side of right because they work against the criminal element, but with the designation of the setting, “Marseilles,” the whole of a reader’s knowledge of France, sea ports, and a few French words comes into play.
What does the first line promise?
The partner who is left behind will probably have to fight against the criminal element. Without the “brains” of the operation, he will be the underdog. Will he be smart enough to succeed?
In the examples above, much is given to the reader as soon as he or she begins to read.
- The general nature of the characters, children, not old enough to be lovers, in one; male colleagues in the other.
- A sense that whatever the situation has been, that situation will change in the story, thus creating tension.
- The setting is also suggested by the language used, a grassy place at night in “Moment” and a French seaport in “Napier.”
- Characters set down in a specific place and time create an image for the reader.
- Each first line offers a question to be answered by the end of the piece: what will change for the two children in a moment and will Yardi survive without Napier?
- Each line has a rhythm that suggests the tone of the story.
Sometimes a perfect first sentence comes into a writer’s mind and inspires a particular story. The words grow from those beginnings for the writer just as they grow for the reader.
However, frequently the language a writer uses to get himself started will not survive the rigors of writing and rewriting . What the writer thought he was going to write changes. In that case, it is the responsibility of the writer to craft openings that will entice readers and authentically enhance the story that follows.
I’m not saying that a strong first line can make or break a story, but if a reader isn’t caught up in the first few sentences, he may not read far enough into the story to find out how good it is.
Here are some examples of openings. Which entice you enough to click the link? Do they have rhythm? Do they rumble?
Water drips from icicles outside the kitchen window.
Aye aye, lad. You made it then. You cut it so fine I was beginning to think you might not be coming.
Tires crunched driveway stone and a black sedan appeared at the gate.
A toothpick hung from Lester’s mouth.
Three cookies arrived with our check from Pappa Chow’s Chinese Buffet.


Perfect analogy. I love this! I may post on my page. Maybe all the rumble can get my pencil to paper. Good luck today.
Another great post, Gay! This one struck all sorts of chords with me. Thanks!
Great first sentences are a must, of course. While they need to grab the reader, they must also have great flow, allow the reader to ease into the story before they are even aware they’ve started (TC Boyle does an excellent job of this).
To be honest, not many of those first lines make me want to read on. To me they seem rather flat except for “Stranger on the Porch” and “Message in a Bottle.”
Just the thing to spark an idea.
–dj
Great post, great stories and great advice.
The power of a strong opening should never be underestimated
Thanks for your wonderful comments, all of you.
Robert, I agree with you. Some of them don’t do those things I think need to be done, and that’s why I added the bit,
“I’m not saying that a strong first line can make or break a story, but if a reader isn’t caught up in the first few sentences, he may not read far enough into the story to find out how good it is.”
Since I chose to use EDF’s Top Ten, I felt I had to adhere to my commitment there knowing some of them didn’t really lure the reader in with their first line.
Not to hurt any of those people’s feelings either, but rather to show that it won’t make or break any story–these are all Top Ten stories–but now that we’ve had this discussion, won’t we all be looking to do more with that first sentence? Myself included!