The rest of the page is about walking home. It's New Year's Eve, there is noise, fireworks, ...threats of snow; ill-tempered and foul, like a portent of evil. A little overwritten but not entirely unenterprising. But despite the evil snow, our man likes walking. So he walks on. He sees a cottage. The wind whips. Beers are taking effect. A dog starts barking. The dog stops barking. He tries to wake a sleeping man. He can't. He gets into a sleeping bag and dreams of his late girlfriend. So ends chapter 1. Not exactly riveting.
Nevertheless, it's a moody opening; it's dark, just like what one might expect from a Scandinavian winter. It captures the setting, which is something like rural Denmark, if the blurb can be trusted. Those who like to travel but can't afford to might like this opening.
In any case, despite my flippant remarks, I do like it for what it is. But I need more. Chapter 1 of a book is like that first cup of coffee in the morning; it needs to kick my brain into obsequious alertness.
First thing said:
"Wakey wakey, Stinger."
Verdict: Fail
Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht
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