The Wolf Gift by Anne Rice

Reuben was a tall man, well over six feet, with brown curly hair and deep-set blue eyes.

Who cares what this person looks like before conflict, unless he is about to lose his legs, making him two feet shorter, or have his hair catch on fire or get his eyes poked out by a crazy blind person waving a cane around.

Paragraph 2 begins with this hunk (I assume) walking up a hill. Sorry, steep hill (This makes it more intense.) There is back story and description tangled up with each other on page 1.

There isn't much else to add; this beginning is pretty boring and doesn't even make good fodder for flaming. Like so many other books on the market these days, the hook is in the byline. Shame.

First thing said:

"The real thing."

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Affliction by Laurell K. Hamilton

My gun was digging into my back, so I shifted forward in my office chair.

I hate when that happens. The realism of this sentence is shocking. The usage of pronouns bold and the lack of conflict revealing.

Next sentence:

That was better; now it was just the comforting pressure of the inner-skirt holster, tucked away underneath my short royal blue suit jacket.

Gun? Check. Short royal blue suit jacket? Check. This girl's ready. That is to say, the gun is all a part of the look and this girl is a mean accessorizer. You go girl!

Fortunately, the fashion review ends, but unfortunately, it ends with back story. I'm not sure which I don't want more.

With the mention of zombies, I'm ready to put this down. For those of you who can't get enough of zombies, I say go to the mall. But if that's not enough, then you might like this book. In any case, whether I like zombie stories or not, this opening does not hook. It reeks of the typical shallow Hollywood set up, which tries to sell us the annoying behavior of characters we don't know or even care about. Behavior like, you know, acting tough, despite the inevitable character flaws and weaknesses that will create tension later in the plot. Cliche and kitsch wrapped up like a cake on fire.

In this case it isn't so much the character or event that's cliche but the tone of the sentences that is. That's right, tone and narrative voice can be cliche.

First thing said:

"What's wrong?"

I don't know - maybe that I stopped reading?

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

13 by Kelley Armstrong

Typical guy.

Sentence fragment. Next line:

You fight through hell - literally, hacking through legions of beasts and zombies and demon-spawn - to sneak home and spend a few stolen minutes with him...and he's not there.

Why is this typical? Guys aren't allowed out of the house? This lady has some possessive issues to work out. Right off the bat, I'm less inclined to continue if it's intent is to belittle men, or should I not feel that way? If I wrote a book that began: Typical woman, I'd hear about it. However, the good thing about the second line is that it establishes tone, as does the first; both in their own good or evil way.

Next paragraph begins with a distracting POV switch from second person to third person. I was expecting it to be first person, but to end up third person is somewhat jarring. Anyway, so begins another "woman looking for her partner" opening scene. At least she's not in bed.

Chapter 1:

I led my half brother Bryce away from the rubble of the exploded lab, ignoring his protests, and ignoring Adam, who was sticking close and wincing every time Bryce coughed.

Okay, another distracting POV switch, this time to first person. At least this sentence induces a story-line. What I like best about this opening is the tone of the novel, not that that is enough to keep me reading, mind you.

First thing said:

"Where the hell are you, Kris?"

It's a pointless question because the character is alone and talking to herself.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Deeply Odd by Dean Koontz

Before dawn, I woke in darkness to the ringing of a tiny bell, the thimble-size bell that I wore on a chain around my neck: three bursts of silvery sound, a brief silence after each.

Another beginning-in-bed saga with some person, hiding behind the veil of a pronoun, waking up in as confused a state as the reader is forced into by this line. The only thing different about this bed setting is the ringing bell. The author explores this unusual manifestation further on the first page.

By paragraph two the author reveals the season (I'm glad, as it was bugging me not knowing) but recovers with the protagonist meeting up with a guy who has: a desire to commit a few murders.

By the end of the first page, the forward narrative comes to an abrupt halt with some terse back story.

First thing said:

"Daylight savings time doesn't start for another five days."

With this line, a character tells us what time of year it is. So there was no need to mention the month earlier. Why do people insist on creating redundancies in their writing and so close together? Do today's writers value a reader's time, or is it that they think their readers are just too stupid to remember, calculate or infer for themselves? In this case, it is minor, but I've come across so many examples of repetition in openings, which I've reviewed on this blog, that it's really starting to annoy.

I give this a pass because of the character and the situation he's confronted with on the first page, you know, the guy with the desire to commit a few murders.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Selected Stories by H.P. Lovecraft

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.

In honor of H.P. Lovecraft and it being Halloween and all, I thought I would review the opening sentences of several of his stories. As it's been a while since I've read any of his work, I wasn't sure what to expect. His writing style is unique though considered by many to be overly verbose and in some weird way, unnatural, at least by today's standards. However, no one can deny the man's imagination and ability to print fear. I was surprised by how well he begins his stories, always a sign, in my book, of a great writer.


The Outsiders
Unhappy is he to whom the memories of childhood bring only fear and sadness.

This hooks on an emotional level. There is a sense of foreboding and hopelessness attached to this sentence. It is disturbing on another level as well - that of a troubled childhood, a childhood filled with fear. The look of fear on a child's face is without a doubt one of the more troubling images out there.

Yet it's far from being his best; it lacks a concrete problem.

Verdict: Pass (3 stars)

Pickman's Model
You needn't think I'm crazy, Eliot - plenty of others have queerer prejudices than this.

This line raises a question or two. It introduces a character and it suggests conflict, as if the narrator and Eliot are having an argument. And what is this queer prejudice?

It's a nice lead in but not really a hook that forces the reader to read on.

Verdict: Pass (barely 2.5 stars)

The Silver Key
When Randolph Carter was thirty he lost the key of the gate of dreams.

This hooks as it raises a question: there is a key to the gate of dreams? There is a gate of dreams? It suggests any number of pleasant or unpleasant possibilities. Is the gate open or locked? What nightmares could come gushing forth, or what is being held back?

As well, losing something in the opening line offers conflict.

Verdict: Cool (4 stars)

The Rats in the Walls
On July 16, 1923, I moved into Exham Priory after the last workman had finished his labors.

This offers nothing, no foreboding or scary image, no conflict, no disturbing idea or thought. Just the date and a place. Beginning with the date is just a mathematical way of saying: Once upon a time...

Verdict: Fail (2 stars)

The Music of Erich Zann
I have examined maps of the city with the greatest care, yet have never  again found the Rue d'Auseil.

A missing street that's seemingly vanished into thin air hooks. It suggests another worldly realm, in a Twilight Zone sort of way. We've all had those, I could have sworn... moments.

Verdict: Cool (4 stars)

The Call of Cthulhu
The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.

This is a frightening thought and one of the reasons why H.P. Lovecraft is so well-loved. He manages to scare intellectually with ideas rather than with violence, blood, or creepy imagery alone. Not understanding is scary, and Lovecraft makes it a personal revelation, something the reader is forced to identify with.

Verdict: Cool (4 stars)

The Haunter of the Dark
Cautious investigators will hesitate to challenge the common belief that Robert Blake was killed by lightning, or by some profound nervous shock derived from an electrical discharge.

A little mystery that hooks in its own quaint little way. It introduces a problem that we assume will resolve by the end: How did this man die? But there are just a couple adjectives too many in this sentence for me to stomach. Adjectives are like salt and give my brain indigestion.

Verdict: Pass (3 stars)

The Dunwich Horror
When a traveller in north central Massachusetts takes the wrong fork at the junction of the Aylesbury pike just beyond Dean's Corners he comes upon a lonely and curious country.

The only part of this sentence that hooks is the end: lonely and curious, but it really isn't enough. It would be better if a hint of what is curious was mentioned rather than telling the reader in general terms, which is boring.

Verdict: Fail (2 stars)

The Thing on the the Doorstep
It is true that I have sent six bullets through the head of my best friend, and yet I hope to show by this statement that I am not his murderer.

It is not really the fact that the narrator has shot his best friend six times in the head that hooks, it is the fact that he shot his best friend six times in the head and insists he did not murder him that hooks. It seems like a paradox of sorts and raises lots of questions. By far this is the best opening line from those I've picked to review.

Verdict: Coolest  (4.5-stars)

Happy Halloween  -  have fun being scared.

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Demonologist by Andrew Pyper

Last night I had the dream again.

Thus begins a prologue, though it is not identified as such.

The line that follows:

Except it was not a dream.

Um, okay, so what is the first line about then? Juxtaposition?

Chapter one "proper" entitled Uncreated Night begins with the line:

The rows of faces.

What a way to begin - with a fragment. Why Mr. Writer needs a full stop after faces, is beyond the confines of reason...or is it? Anyway,  is there conflict? No. What about characterization? No. Setting? No. Plugging a Pink Floyd video? Hmm. So what does he do next? Why, he gives us another fragment.

Younger and younger each term. 

What is younger? The rows? The faces? Ah, no, seriously, I understand; it's all starting to make sense. No sense in reading further, though I did read another page before stopping. There's a lecture about Milton's Paradise Lost. I laughed out loud when the poor suffering professor melodramatically tightens his hold on his daughter's imagined hand, a hackneyed attempt to solicit sympathy. But it's too soon for any reader to turn on the waterworks. Come on, how can any reader feel sorry for this as yet one-dimensional stranger? He comes off as a pathetic, self-centered introvert. I wanted to slap him. 

I try to be fair, but enough of me; I'm not a laptop tickler.

Verdict: Epic Fail

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht