Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson

We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. 

This novel may not be for everyone, but at least we know in the opening line what it is going to be about. In this line there is setting and conflict and I think it works quite nicely in conjunction with the title.

The rest of the opening paragraph:

I remember saying something like 'I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive . . .' And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming, 'Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?'

Whoever the narrator is, he is with his attorney who is pouring beer on his chest to help get a tan, and obviously the attorney did not see or hear the giant bats. This opening page not only establishes the premise but also reveals something of the characters and perhaps most importantly, the tone of the the novel.

Verdict: Cool

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

'Til the Well Runs Dry by Lauren Francis-Sharma

The cardboard box trembled.

Four words...that work. As far as first sentences go this gets five stars. Why? It has everything an opening sentence needs in order to succeed. Of course there could be more, like character and setting and tone and mood and theme and simile or heck even an onomatopoeic word or two, but then the line would run the risk of trying to do too much. This sentence does not need all that other junk because this line has the one thing an opening sentence must have: conflict, or to be more precise, the foreshadowing of conflict that raises a question. In this case: What is in the box? It's so simple that this almost sounds like the classic question that all stories should begin with: What is in the box? Being curious creatures, we are forced to read on.

Prior to chapter 1 is the heading: 1943, World War II, No Carnival. I like headings; they save a lot of time. There is also a map of Trinidad just after the title page which further illuminates the setting without me needing to read much. I like this, too.

The next sentence:

The panicked squeals from inside it grew louder as I hurried through the overgrown grass.

Even though by sentence 2 we can pretty much infer, at least in general terms, what is in the box, but whether it be a let down or otherwise, the first sentence has done its job in spades at hooking the reader. The scene that begins with the first sentence is interesting enough (the narrator needs to kill whatever is in the box) to hold my attention, as there conflict a plenty.

First thing said:

"Can't be lucky if you's a coward."

This bit of dialogue occurs on page 1, which is nice, but it is something a character 'had always said', that is, part of some back story. I prefer the first thing said to be part of a forward narrative, not something said once upon a time. On the other hand, the advantage to opening with back-story dialogue is that it is almost never of the superfluous chit-chatty type, but instead reveals plot or character. In this case the later.

The only thing I take issue with is the artsy-fartsy title; you know, the ones that begin with an ellipsis..., or a preposition or has a pronoun like: A River Runs through IT or a title that begins with 'And'. Then there's the ones that begin with where, when or how. They ooze pretentious fiction babble. However, in a way an artsy-fartsy title is a blessing in disguise, for with such a title, at least I've been warned. Not that I have anything against artsy-fartsy; it's just that those books tend to be didactic and long-winded with vocabulary that's been found buried deep in the armpits of some dictionary, bursting with imagery that tries to reprogram (or scramble) my brain, by making something as simple as the sun look like the last vestibule of hope in the eye of a dying god. Whatever.

Verdict: Cool

The verdict is high on this because of how effective that little opening line is, and how the opening scene unfolds. If the dialogue in this had been forward narrative speak and if the title didn't bug me so much, this would have been a perfect five-star opening.

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Bell by Iris Murdoch

Dora Greenfield left her husband because she was afraid of him.

We are almost up to 300 reviews of novel openings and in that time we have yet to come across the perfect opening line, opening paragraph, etc., with only 23 getting four stars. Time and again, we are confronted with cliched scenes, melodramatic syntax, vague pronounology, preamble, ramble and babble. The great writers are slowly dying off and being replaced by wannabe celebrities and PR wizards masquerading as writers, (after all, anyone can put words to paper, right? So why don't you be a writer, too!) who are clogging up the New York Times bestseller list. Manipulated consumers are eating it up, their brains slowly corroded by TV, as our standards deteriorate. I don't know, maybe writers are trying too hard to hook, mistaking their opening to be nothing more than a marketing ploy rather than the beginning of a character's story.

The above opening sentence of The Bell by Iris Murdoch illustrates just how easy it is to craft an opening sentence that hooks. It's almost sublime. We have two characters, conflict, foreshadowing and back story - in that they were married but aren't anymore. This sentence not only raises questions but it also introduces the psychological landscape of two characters. However, it is the question this sentence raises that hooks: Why is she afraid of him? There are no cliched scenes, no mere pronouns, no preamble, no weather, no pretty words painting a printed landscape, no pompous insinuations of ideas an author believes only he or she is privy to - just a character with a problem: fear.

The very next sentence in the novel contains the first plot twist:

She decided six months later to return to him for the same reason.

I love how sentence 2 in the novel turns the plot upside down. This line raises more questions, as it doesn't make much sense. Why be afraid to be apart when she was afraid to be with him? In these first two little sentences there is a juxtaposition of action which suggests irrational internal conflict, and that someone is overwhelmed with fear - stuck in the damnable position of being damned if they do, and damned if they don't. How could this not hook? Two sentences in and readers are sympathizing with Dora and by the end of the first paragraph we learn that Paul is haunting her with letters and phone calls and imagined footsteps.

First thing said:

"Don't stay."

Dialogue comes late. I would prefer it sooner. Dialogue on the ninth page suggests that what came before is either description or back story or philosophy. In this case it is back story, beginning at the second paragraph as we are eased into the violence of her husband. Fortunately, it is back story fraught with conflict.

If it hadn't been for the large back story dumps (despite being well written with some interesting details) so soon, and a bit more showing instead of telling, this would have been the perfect five-star opening. The opening paragraph, taken by itself, is five stars.

Verdict: Cool

I chose this novel opening to review today because I'm tired of reviewing crap. I was browsing through the new releases at the library and found two books beginning the exact same way. It's exasperating and becoming so repetitive, that I begin to dread cracking open the new stuff.

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4 by Sue Townsend

Thursday January 1st

Bank Holiday in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales

These are my New Year’s resolutions:

1. I will help the blind across the road.

2. I will hang my trousers up.

3. I will put the sleeves back on my records.

4. I will not start smoking.

5. I will stop squeezing my spots.

6. I will be kind to the dog.

7. I will help the poor and ignorant.

8. After hearing the disgusting noises from downstairs last night, I have also vowed never to drink alcohol.

Hmm, I guess the entire list is part of the first sentence, so this constitutes a mild form of cheating, but who cares? Not I. Beginning with a list offers up a few possibilities and lit devices like foreshadowing and misdirection. This list will keep the reader guessing throughout and most likely keep the reader going back to this opening line as he/she reads. I love the resolution of helping the poor and ignorant. The last resolution sets up the next line:

My father got the dog drunk on cherry brandy at the party last night.

Not only is this funny but reveals characterization. It sets the tone for the whole novel.

If the RSPCA hear about it he could get done. Eight days have gone by since Christmas Day but my mother still hasn’t worn the green lurex apron I bought her for Christmas! She will get bathcubes next year. Just my luck, I’ve got a spot on my chin for the first day of the New Year!

First thing said:

"You've got a lot to learn, son."

I think this is the first thing said. As this is a diary there isn't much dialogue in the beginning and this comes several pages in.

Verdict: Cool ( I want more)

Happy holidays from the Hooked/Unhooked Brain staff.

Sincerely,

Theodore Moracht

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time to thinking about death.

Fail. Not! This is what it is to hook. I mean, come on, how can one not read on? We have a character and a ton of questions.

Next sentence answers one of them:

Whenever you read a cancer booklet or website or whatever, they always list depression among the side effects of cancer.

We learn that the character as a result will be enrolled in a support group, presumably to help her cope with her impending death...as if that will help. Nevertheless, we are on the side of the protagonist. What follows is telling, but this is a first person narrative and so, well, the character telling the story is telling a good story, so forget that rigid antiquated, show, don't tell rule. That rule does not apply here. Hell, rules are for amateurs, critics and literary agents. No place for any of those fools on this blog.

The first conversation only solidifies the reader's relationship to the protagonist:

Me: "I refuse to attend Support Group."
Mom: "One of the symptoms of depression is disinterest in activities."
Me: "Please just let me watch America's Next Top Model. It's an activity."
Mom: "Television is a passivity."
Me: "Ugh, Mom, please."
Mom: "Hazel, you're a teenager. You're not a little kid anymore. You need to make friends, get out of the house, and live your life."
Me: "If you want me to be a teenager, don't send me to Support Group. Buy me a fake ID so I can go to clubs, drink vodka, and take pot."
Mom: "You don't take pot, for starters."
Me: "See, that's the kind of thing I'd know if you got me a fake ID."
Mom: "You're going to Support Group."
Me: "UGGGGGGGGGGGGG."
Mom: "Hazel, you deserve a life."

That shut me up, although I failed to see how attendance at Support Group met the definition of life. Still, I agreed to go—after negotiating the right to record the 1.5 episodes of ANTM I'd be missing.

Verdict: Cool (I want more and more) 4.5 stars

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird