Opening Lines

 

Several weeks ago one of the blog I look in on, Fantasy writer Mark Lawrence, had a blog post where he listed most of the first lines of his books. I thought quite a few of them were really good – I like clever writing. For example:

From his book, Dispel Illusion

The two saving graces of explosions are that from the outside they’re pretty and from the inside they’re quick.

From his book, Prince of Fools

I’m a liar and a cheat and a coward, but I will never, ever, let a friend down. Unless of course not letting them down requires honesty, fair play, or bravery.

Writers are told that first lines are very important, one of keys to hooking a reader. And yet, in all my years as a reader, I can recall only one set of opening lines that I recall. They were the lines from Jasper Fforde’s Shades of Grey:

“It began with my father not wanting to see the Last Rabbit and ended up with my being eaten by a carnivorous plant. It wasn’t really what I’d planned for myself – I’d hoped to marry into the Oxbloods and join their dynastic string empire.”

And to be honest, I think those lines would likely have sent just as many readers packing, as they did drawing them further into the story.

The truth is that I don’t think first lines are all that important. Oh, it’s nice to have a clever opening to a story, but are they critical? I doubt it. In fact, I think closing lines are more important, as they set the tone for what people remember of the book. I pay more attention to closing lines than opening lines. In fact, I already know the closing lines for the story that I’m writing, even though I'm less than a third into at this point.

That said, I do make an effort to come up with what I hope are engaging opening lines, but their nature depends on how I am opening the story. Sometimes my openings are just setting the stage – so the lines are simply descriptive, serving only that purpose. I sometimes open with dialog, and so they’re dialog. And occasionally I try to be clever and teasing. In any event, below are the opening lines of my published novels along with opening lines from works that have never, or not yet been finished.

I'll start with some of my early unpublished works going back to 1980’s and 90’s.

The Hybrid-Worlder (unpublished novella)

Within the Knym-sooh the air was heavy and aromatic with the flavors of Chantsom Yea.

Death on Glou’Ay (unpublished short story)

The cosmicpolitan worlds – while retaining their singular character – have become rounded and smooth from their long intercourse with the many other famous hominoid worlds; like pebbles on a seashore.

The Brigand Sea-Prince (unpublished fantasy novel)

We stood in silence – waiting – within the dimly illuminated bowls of what looked to the lower hold of a vast galleon. It was, however, the Great Hall and Throne Room of the sea-raiders of Ividish’fa.

The Poisoned Coast (YA Novel)

‘Read this,’ snapped Cory, bursting into my room.

He slapped a sheet of paper down on the solar power panel I was working on.

I could probably dig up more scraps, but let’s move on to my more recent stuff.

Some Day Days 

The scent of grass and warm stone laced with fleeting wisps of chatter and laughter drifted through the open window, moving the curtains ever so slightly, without shattering the stillness of my room.

A Summer in Amber

Not yet 8:30, and the morning was bathwater warm and nearly as moist. It'd be tropical by noon.

The Bright Black Sea

'You'll see my ship safely – and profitably, mind you – around and back. Am I making myself clear, Litang?'

The Lost Star’s Sea

Can you dream pain?

Fear, yes. I felt that, but was the sharp splinter of pain in my head part of the dream as well?

Beneath the Lanterns

The golden light of dusk day slanted through the pine boughs to splash down on the blue shadowed road before me.

Sailing to Redoubt

I clung to the railing on the tilting deck. The horizon would not stay still.

The Prisoner of Cimlye

‘...And your packet of Can-Fi Savory Biscuits, 49 coras, brings your total to...’ I pulled the lever on the adding machine, ‘279 coras.’ I wrote the total on the sales slip, looked across the counter, smiled, and waited…

The Secret of the Tzaritsa Moon

I signed aboard the Tzaritsa Moon as her second engineer. I ended up a toaster repairman. I was very lucky.

An earlier story that became the opening set of events for Tzaritsa Moon has this variation of that same opening:

I took my first steps in becoming a toaster repairman aboard the Aphar Hawk, nine days out of Gan Dou orbit. And I don’t believe that I’ve ever stepped faster in my life.

The Secrets of Valsummer House

Pine Cove had its secrets. Little ones. And one big, dangerous one. It took Patrol Lieutenant Vaun Di Ai, Intelligence Analyst 3, to uncover its big and dangerous one. It would. Them girls with pretty faces and inquiring minds.

The Shadows of an Iron Kingdom

I’d like to believe that I can take the rough with the smooth. I didn’t complain about the hundred petty inconveniences of the Iron Kingdom. Not too much. It was the werewolves, superhumans, and mad scientists who haunted its black forests and ruined castles that got to me. Still, what did I expect in the company of Vaun Di Ai?

The Aerie of a Pirate Prince ( unfinished 9 Star Neb Mystery/adventure)

It wasn’t my fault. For more than three years I’d been quite content to leave the infamous Alantzian System’s pirate princes to their own un-Unity Standard devices.

Keiree

The taste of claustrophobic panic as the pod closed around us clung to the back of my throat. The sharp pricks of pain as Molly’s claws clutched my chest still lingered. And yet, if everything had gone right, those sensations would have been twelve thousand, nine hundred and fourteen Martian years old. But everything hadn’t gone right.

Sian (unfinished sequel to Keiree)

‘Grrrrrrr,’ warm breath on my ear. {Feed me} in Molly’s vocabulary.

‘Go away,’ I mumbled, turned the other way, and jerked the blanket over my head. I wasn’t ready to get up. I wasn’t planning to.

I felt Molly land on top of me, and pulling back the blanket with one clawed paw leaned close, and said, ‘Grrrrrr’ in her deepest, most menacing tone.

‘No,’ I mumbled.

“No” was a concept Molly has never mastered. I doubt she ever tried.

I could feel her warm, moist breath of her mouth around my ear. And then the little pricks of her teeth as she began to close her mouth on it.

One thing you don’t say to Simla cats, at least not to Molly, is “Don’t you dare,” because she will dare. I didn’t care much about anything. But I didn’t care to lose an ear.

A Night on Isvalar

The name’s Riel Dunbar. I’m second mate of the interstellar freighter, Tarina. I’ve been a starfer – a starfarer – for something like 37 years. Perhaps not the most ambitious starfer, but the second mate’s berth suits me. It’s a responsible position. And if it doesn’t pay as well as a first mate’s berth, it comes with half the headaches.

Villain & Botts (Unfinished work)

A broad chested, grey bearded man in a black spaceer's uniform with silver trim swept into the Astra Automation's elegant showroom accompanied by a tall woman in a soft white and silver outfit that shimmered as she walked and Temta, one of the salespersons. Could either of these be my owner, Viletre Viseor?

Velvet Island Nights (Unfinished work)

'Good morning gang,' I sang out cheerfully with a wave of my umbrella as I strolled into the Exports Section of the Bureau of Trade, Department of Statistical Studies of the Island of Larrendia Governmental Office. 'The sun is high, the sky blue, the breeze balmy, the birds cheerful, and our workweek is in its last gasp. What do you say we take our morning break early and savor this wonderful morning as it should be savored – out of doors, and in the shade of LeVara's Cafe with his best Janvar bean caf? The reports can wait an hour.'

Rust in the Dust (Fragment of an unfinished work)

Twenty-seven books will not fill a wall of bookshelves, not even the wall of a very cozy dormer office under the rafters of Croft Hall, Wayscross University. This came as not a complete surprise to me. I had hoped, however, that by artistically spreading my twenty-seven books out across the shelves – displaying the larger volumes cover out – I might create the impression that the shelves were more filled than they actually were. Sadly, this proved not to be the case. Indeed, rather than disguising my scarcity of books, it seemed to emphasis the barrenness of the shelves – each book a lonesome cry of despair.

Inlowpar Stars (Unfinished work)

‘Greetings, Zenabya. Broke enough to consider going back to work yet?’ pinged the auton Cline Carr, of the Starfarers’ Guild Hiring Hall on Kantea Island.

Taef and the Sorceresses (A fragment a page long)

The gods have their places. They’re welcome to rule the dead unseen under the ground or reign high in the sky. They may torment or reward the living hidden behind the masks of natural events or make mischief in the myriad coincidences of everyday life. As long as they stay invisible, and in their proper places, humans embrace or ignore them as they choose. But, should a god should step out of its proper place… Ah, then, things get complicated.

And finally, just as a tease, here is the current first lines from my work in progress. Talk about setting the stakes!

The long red tram crossed Crane House Lane and disappeared behind Villiers House, sealing my fate. I’d be late for work. I slowed to a walk and took another bite of toast. I found that I didn’t care. It was that kind of day,