The first line of a story can make it or break it. The first line is the best opportunity a writer has to reel readers in – to instantly pull them into the story that is already happening, a story that the reader really wants in on, or should, after reading the first sentence. The reader is like the frog in Frogger, jumping into the action. The first line may not necessarily be action-packed – the idea is that the first line sets the tone of the whole story. A good one may shock us a little bit, maybe jolt us, pull us by the collar into a new world and zip up the seam behind us. To put it bluntly: screw up the first line and you’re already on tenuous grounds with your readers. Knock it out of the park, and you’ll score major points.
I rummaged through my bookshelves to find some good first lines. Here’s what I came up with.
“‘I’ve watched through his eyes, I’ve listened through his ears, and I tell you he’s the one.’” – Ender’s Game, Orson Scott Card. One of the greatest books ever. This first line strikes the reader with several questions: who is this person seeing through somebody else’s eyes? Who’s “the one”? What is the implied task “the one” must accomplish? And of course we find out that “the one” is not exactly what we would expect.
“Alexander Democedes Amandinus stood at the Door of Death waiting for the chance to learn more about life.” – An Echo in the Darkness, Francine Rivers. The conundrum is obvious – how will dying teach us about life?
“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic vermin.” – The Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka. The dude wakes up as a bug!
“Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu.” – Waiting, Ha Jin
“The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.” – Neuromancer, William Gibson. The best way I’ve ever heard anyone say “gray.”
“None of them knew the color of the sky.” – The Open Boat, Stephen Crane. In this sky, the color is blank. But why? Are “them” underground? Are they blind?
“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.” – 1984, George Orwell. It’s quirky, it throws you off a little. The feeling is cold – both the temperature and the clocks. Clocks convey a sense of coldness, I think, not of warmth. Add to that the “striking thirteen.” It just doesn’t seem right, and that’s exactly the point.
