Off to a Galloping Start
Since we’re beginning a brand new year, it seems appropriate to reflect on beginnings—the beginning of books, that is.
Few things are as daunting to a writer as that blank page upon which we type “Chapter One.” That’s because we know that we only have this one chance to hook the reader, to intrigue and delight her so strongly that she won’t be able to put down the novel until she’s read it cover to cover. It may be the most engrossing book on the planet, but if it doesn’t start off at a gallop, our gentle reader may never know that, because she may just put it aside with a yawn.
Whoa, Dobbin!
What exactly does that mean in practical terms, though? Does there have to be a dead body on page one? More and more, the conventional wisdom says “yes”! Formed by the pace of action movies and video games, the modern book buyer seems to require an increasingly hectic pacing in print. I would like to suggest, however, that that isn’t necessarily a valid rule. Different genres shape different reader expectations, just as they dictate a variety of pacings throughout the text. Certainly by the end of the first chapter, something fairly intriguing should have happened. But that doesn’t mean that all scene setting and character definition has to go to satisfy the quick-march pace of your book. Action-filled, plot-driven stories hit the ground running in a way that quieter, more literary books need not.
Not long ago, I saw an array of "great first lines" (mostly from contemporary writers), and I wasn't impressed. I was struck by how desperately they were all trying to be clever. The huge word "HOOK!" was practically written in neon above some of them. I felt manipulated. Don't be that author. Whatever pace you decide on, make it organic. Read this blog and anything else you can find about beginning a novel... and then forget it, and just write.
An Aside
A little build-up is not a bad thing. The great novels of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries felt no such pressure to pander to readers without an attention span. Surely I’m not the last person to read—and love—Austen, Zola, or Wharton. And they take their time getting into the plot. What attracts is the beautifully crafted scenes, the interesting characters, the thick sense of atmosphere. They are the reasons we want to keep reading. Well written books compel. Just saying.
Giddyap!
But let’s grant that you want your plot rolling in the first chapter. That need not mean a corpse on the floor, even in a mystery. It could effectively be a conflict between two characters. A dialogue that reveals something important about a protagonist. A tragedy that precipitates a conflict. Agatha Christie once wrote a murder mystery in which there was no murder until nearly half the book had passed. But all sorts of other things had been set up that were important to solving the mystery. I confess that the very unconventionality of the exposition kept me reading. So, when we look at that bare first page, we do have choices.
What we don’t want (not anywhere in the book) is dragging dialogue, aimless actions, gratuitous violence that doesn’t inform the plot in any way. Let everything you bring up in Chapter One have a direct bearing on where the book is headed. Let every snippet of exposition give the reader information they’ll need as they continue to read. To switch metaphors, plenty of meat and no fat.
So, crack the whip, flick the reins, and dig in the spurs. Your story doesn’t have to burst out of the gate at a dead run, but it should set off at a solid gallop it can hold till the end.