I’ve recently been working on a couple of novel contest entries. Since most contests want only the first couple chapters, this is a great opportunity to further polish my opening pages. They were pretty strong before (if I do say so myself), but I’m amazed how much insight I’ve gotten from spending a few months away from the story and coming back to it with fresh eyes.
Since I have rewritten and revised my own opening pages about a million times—taking feedback from critique partners, agents, and contest judges along the way—I thought I’d share with you what I’ve learned in the process.
When it comes to the opening of your novel or short story, you’ve probably heard a lot of what not to do. Don’t start with a character waking up. Don’t start with a description of the weather. Don’t start with unattributed dialogue. Don’t, don’t, don’t.
That’s all well and good, but what can you do to craft a strong opening?
Provide a flavor of the genre.
Readers want to know what kind of story they’re signing up for from page one. You should strive to evoke an immediate sense of the story’s genre and tone: Fantasy or sci-fi? Women’s fiction? YA? Funny, uplifting, mysterious, or dark?
In other words, make sure your first scene accurately represents the rest of the story. This is often called the first-page promise. By writing this first page, you are promising the reader a certain type of story. If you don’t deliver on that—if the story changes tone halfway through, or if the reader doesn’t realize it’s a fantasy until chapter 3—you’ll lose the reader’s trust.
Ground the reader.
Possibly the worst literary turn-off is a vague, jumbled, or clunky opening scene. One in which the reader doesn’t know who’s saying what, where anyone is, or what is happening. This isn’t to say you should spell everything out for the reader; a little well-executed mystery in your opening can work wonders. But if the reader feels downright confused on your first page, you have failed as a writer.
To avoid this, make sure you clue the reader in right away on a few key things:
- who is in the scene
- what they are doing
- why they are doing it
- where and when this is happening
Providing this basic information in every scene is called grounding the reader (which I discuss in detail in this post). It’s what allows the reader to feel immersed in the scene.
Contrary to popular belief, grounding does not mean info dumping. Grounding the reader doesn’t require lengthy blocks of text or pages of dull description—a few tidbits of information woven into the action is all you need. Just revisit the first chapter of your favorite book, and see what the author did to ground you in the scene.
Start in medias res.
Loosely translated, this Latin phrase means “in the middle of the action.” And by action, I don’t necessarily mean a car chase. Action can be as simple as someone making coffee, reading a newspaper, or talking to their spouse.
But, you protest, making coffee, reading a newspaper, and talking to one’s spouse are not inherently interesting actions!
That’s where you, the storyteller, come in. Very few activities are inherently thrilling—instead, it’s the implication, motivation, or emotion behind the activity that grabs the reader’s attention. Consider the following opening scenes:
- Someone making coffee…and slipping poison into it.
- Someone reading a newspaper…and learning his friend is dead.
- Someone talking to their spouse…and lying.
Any action can be attention-grabbing if you spin it the right way.
Hint at conflict.
In a short story, the character’s problem will usually appear in the first page or two. In a novel, this may take a little longer. But that doesn’t mean you can ignore the conflict while you set up the other story elements—if you do, readers will get bored and lose interest before they get to the good part.
You need at least a hint of conflict to keep their attention. This could mean two characters arguing, a character forced into an unpleasant situation, or a question the character wants answered. Anything that piques the reader’s interest or makes them wonder what happens next.
In other words, the opening pages of your story should not be filled with happy characters doing fun things without a care in the world. Although your characters’ lives haven’t been turned upside-down just yet, there should be a sense of something stirring beneath the surface, something lurking just out of sight.
Revise, revise, revise.
I saved the most important step for last. This is the single best thing you can do for your opening pages—and thus, for your shot at winning a contest or signing an agent. Even if your manuscript is finished and polished, even if your opening pages have been revised to death already, continue to revisit them periodically. You’ll see them in a new light each time. And as you read more, write more, and grow as a writer, your opening pages will grow with you.