The Fever Tree by Jennifer McVeigh

The first indication that her father was unwell had come in June.

There is an indication of conflict in this sentence and there is an indication of characters though the slipping in of the month waters this line down. If something else had been added, like they learned about the father when, say something else was happening, the sentence would have been more complex in its conflict. That it's happening in June does not make me care more, and every word of an opening line needs to make me care. That is the only way to get me reading more.

First thing said:

"Lotta?"

This comes early on page one, as a scene begins to unfold - the moment the father is ill and returning from a trip. The balance between narrative, dialogue, description and back story is well executed and well proportioned, which means that the opening pace of the novel is quick enough to pull the reader in as it moves towards the hook which is buried somewhere later. It does start to slow down by the time we get to chapter 2, primarily with back story. Chapter 2 begins thus:

When Frances's parents first married, her father had lived as close to respectability as he was able.

The focus of this opening is on establishing the mood and back story. This is fine, but it will not hook as effectively as, say, an opening showcasing a giant tomato staggering down the street, gobbling up first borns.

I do like the title and I think it adds to increasing the interest in picking this up, though perhaps not with sticking with it.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Temporary Gentleman by Sebastian Barry

It's a beautiful night and no mistake.

I don't now about anyone else but I find this sentence somewhat confusing. What is not the mistake? That it is not beautiful or that we shouldn't doubt it, as in make no mistake about it. Or more probably, that this beautiful night was no mistake and was designed this way by someone or something? As well, beautiful night alludes to weather, so we'll tag the weather opening cliche to this one. The next line and rest of the opening paragraph is:

You would never think there was a war somewhere.

This opening paragraph is in quotes meaning someone is saying this. Next line:

These less than prophetic words were spoken by a young navy second lieutenant, on the wide, night-bedarkened deck of our supply ship, bound for Accra.

The use of night-bedarkened  makes this line overwritten. Plus, though I'm no expert, in the navy I don't think there is a rank of second lieutenant; sub-lieutenant or junior lieutenant I've heard, but second lieutenant is a rank in the army equivalent to ensign in the navy. A cursory search online seems to confirm this.

So this opening basically establishes that this is a historical novel set during World War II, but with inaccurate information one wonders how effective this will be at immersing the reader into the time period. I suspect for most people it will work as they don't really care about little things like facts, grammar and punctuation when reading a story.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Death of a Scholar by Susanna Gregory

Cambridge, Lammas Day (1 August) 1358

Oswald Stanmore knew he was dying.

There is not as much conflict here as people may think. I mean, we all die. If the line was something like: He knew he would die, then that would raise more questions. However, in this first paragraph of this prologue, we learn that Oswald has some secrets and has been a naughty boy and needs to destroy any evidence of his wrongdoings before he begins the arduous task of concentrating on his immortal soul. So we do get a hook in the first paragraph, which is not to say that the opening line fails, it's a great leading line.

Chapter 1

It was an inauspicious start for a new College.

This line, however, has a whiff of preamble to it. A big stink of preamble, actually, giving the opening line a watered-down vague character to it. The next line is where the story starts and would have made a much more powerful opening line, as it has character and conflict:

Geoffrey de Elvesmere of Winwick Hall lay dead in the latrine, sprawled inelegantly with his clothes in disarray around him.

I like the euphemistic phrase: sprawled inelegantly. Quickly we are presented with a body and a problem in the first paragraph of chapter 1. We learn something about the victim and the detective Matthew Bartholomew all in the first paragraph. Geoffrey would have been horrified at the spectacle he was providing for gawping onlookers. Readers are no different then those onlookers and out of curiosity read on.

First thing said:

"Marsh fever."

This comes in the prologue and moves the plot forward a little, which makes for effective dialogue in an opening. In this case, it reveals what is supposed to be ailing Oswald. He knows differently, though.

Verdict: Pass (Definitely)

For those who love mysteries there is enough mystery in the opening to hook. For those who love historical, there is enough history in the opening to hook. I like the writing style, but that's no surprise as it's coming from a UKer. So this gets a 3.5 stars out of 5.

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Shame and the Captives by Thomas Keneally

Autumn 1946
Japan, unspecified prefecture

When they were alone, she said to Aoki, "You were surrounded by those black savages...All that time you had in the jungle..."

I will take all this as the opening line of an unidentified prologue even though it is two lines fused together with a gluttony of ellipses. This line manages to introduce a situation though without a clear conflict in mind, but certainly presents possibilities for a hook.

In the next paragraph we learn that she is asking him if he succumbed to the jungle women, one presumes during WWII, and he answers that he was a soldier, implying that he did not. At this point I sense a massive flashback in which he tells his story of the war. He does, but the great thing is that the story he tells his wife is a lie. The reader is told that he's hiding something and this secret is a hook.

Part 1:

Spring 1943

On an unexpectedly warm day in the second October since her husband's capture, twenty-three-year-old Mrs Alice Herman saw - from the veranda where she sat sewing buttons on one of her father-in-law's shirts -  an army truck pull up in the middle of the rutted clay and gravel road outside the Hermans' place, three miles west of Gawell.

That was very annoying to type out. Reading it is more fun, but when one is forced to type it out, it becomes clear how much of this sentence is unnecessary. I was itching to truncate or delete more than the standard 10%. Short opening lines with character and conflict are the way to go. This line seems to be more interested in creating an idyllic postcard image, that's designed to warn the reader that this story is going to be romantic and epic, like how a TV miniseries would start.

This is what it is really about:

In the second October since her husband's capture, Mrs Alice Herman saw an army truck pull up outside.

Who cares what the temperature is? Who cares that she is sewing? Who cares that the bloody road is of rutted clay. Who cares that she lives three miles west of God knows where? Maybe there will be a reason to care later, but when it's necessary to know later, that is when the writer tells the reader, not overloading the reader with a descriptive dump in the first line. Too many words in the opening line, like weather reports, adjectives, and GPS dumps, etc., have the tendency to lead a reader away from the hook rather than towards it.

Though brief, quite honestly, the weather insertion is annoying. It seems every second book I pick up nowadays begins with weather. There is only so much weather readers can handle before they start to OD on it. I'm at the point now where I have no sympathy and no respect for any writer who begins with weather - the most rampant cliched opening on the market today, so if writers can't be more creative, I feel justified in throwing insolence and ridicule their way while reviewing such openings.

In any case, this line does present context which establishes some conflict into the bargain. Army men coming to a woman whose husband is a POW is probably not a good thing. Is it enough to hook? It does raise some questions, and I must admit I am mildly curious as to what is or will be Mr. Herman's fate, even though I can't say I yet care. I'm more interested in the situation than in the characters.  I care more about the characters in the prologue, but that is a prologue: different people in a different place in a different time. So whatever hook there was in the prologue is wasted on chapter 1.

For reasons mentioned above, I'm so tempted to give this 2.5 stars - the 50/50 meh rating, but there are some questions raised that induce curiosity and the writing isn't bad, so I'll be kind and give this opening a solid 3 stars.

Verdict: Pass

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Last Romanov by Dora Levy Mossanen

1887

The howls of wild aurochs echo deep in the ancient forest as Boris Spiridov spreads his hunting coat over a mattress of leaves and Sabrina Josephine, daughter of a grand duke and favorite in the Romanov Palace squats down as if she has spent her entire life in this forest.

This is the first sentence of what appears to be a preface or prologue. It is short, only five more sentences, but the opening line is long. If you don't believe me, try writing it out a hundred times on the board. Personally, I like adjectives but when they are used willy-nilly as in ancient forest, I begin to wonder. So the forest is ancient. What does an ancient forest look like? Like the Redwoods of California? That's pretty ancient. But from the names given we can assume this is in Russia, so what does an ancient forest look like in Russia? How is the reader to know? How is the reader to form an image, which the author obviously wants the reader to do, as she's using adjectives for a reason. Or is she? Ancient could look like many different things, even though almost all forests are pretty old relative to the people that populate them. So in point of fact, ancient used in this sentence is like deadwood.

As well, what is the difference in squatting between someone who has not been in a forest forever and someone who has? Is there some special pose that I should be aware of? Again, there is a push to create an image in the reader's mind but fails to do so concretely...or even vaguely for that matter.

By the end of this short prologue we learn that a baby has been born.

Chapter 1:

Darya Borisovna Spiridova is startled awake by a persistent knock at her front door.

So this begins with a character waking up. A cliched and therefore quite noncreative way to begin a story. The next lines are curious:

Butterflies flutter against her skin, weave their way around her silver curls, rustle under the covers. A cloud of butterflies floats out of the bedroom and into the vestibule.

I can't tell if this is a metaphor or to be taken literally. In any case, the image is funny; I'm reminded of a scene from Ace Ventura. I read on for this reason but lose interest as the narrative descends into back story with Russian words interspersed to create a sense of place.

First thing said:

"May I help you, Madame?"

Despite my criticism above, there is a scene in the opening, though it takes a while for something meaningful to happen.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Waverley by Sir Walter Scott

The title of this work has not been chosen without the grave and solid deliberation which matters of importance demand from the prudent. 

What this is really saying is that this is going to be a long book, so you better have lots of extra time reading about things that don't really have anything to do with the story that I will or will not tell all in good time. So begins chapter 1 entitled: Introductory. But it's really more like a preface.

Chapter 2:

It is, then, sixty years since Edward Waverley, the hero of the following pages, took leave of his family, to join the regiment of dragoons in which he had lately obtained a commission. 

So this is where the story starts. We have a character and a change of circumstances that may or may not be for the worse. We may assume there will be lots of conflict with Waverley joining a regiment. What follows are thick paragraphs of back story and history and lots of telling that makes Madame Bovary look like a children's picture book.

First thing said:

"'Woe, woe, for Scotland, not a whit for me!'

This comes in chapter 4 after pages and pages of dense narrative text. It sounds campy to today's ear. I blame Ed Wood and Monty Python for my inability to appreciate this.

Verdict: Fail

I suspect this was written in a time when people didn't need to be coerced into reading something by being hooked.

This is part of the series: the top 100 novels from Daniel S. Burt's book called Novel 100, the top 100 novels of all time. There is debate of course as to what should be on that list, but his opinions are as good as any. Waverley comes in at the 84th greatest novel of all time.

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Critical Mass by Sara Paretsky

Vienna, 1913
And There Was Light

"Oh."

Headings and titles that begin with "...[A]nd" are funny as they are failed attempts to instigate some intellectual prowess. ...or so it seems. They fool the fool though, and don't hide the overpowering desire to add an ellipsis.

Now, to the opening sentence, or should I say opening grunt. One-word openings are always at great risk of being a fail in my estimation. The reason being there isn't much one can do with one word, and there isn't that much that can be expressed. How to express conflict with one word: No! Character: Bob. Tone: Awesome! Or: Totally. Setting: Rain. These one-word fails usually go undetected; the reader washes over them as if it is a mere stain on the page. On the plus side, these grunts are so short, they don't really count as an idea that can challenge and hook. Most people don't notice them because they don't care about them, which makes one wonder why an author would begin with one. The next line:

The syllable is a soft cry of ecstasy.

What the opening of this prologue is about is a child amazed at seeing colors on the floor.

First thing (words) actually said:

"Martina, your manners."

This is whispered harshly.

Chapter 1:

The sun scorched my back through my thin shirt.

Weather and fashion. Nothing to see here. Next line:

It was September, but out on the prairie, the heat still held a midsummer ferocity.

Weather and geography, and it stays that way with some added real estate for several paragraphs before I lose interest. Someone is inspecting an old and fallen down house. I would prefer to know why before the descriptions of the house and the yard and the shed and the fence and the windows and the heat and of a dog long dead.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Freud's Mistress by Jennifer Kaufman and Karen Mack

Vienna, 1895

The season for suicides had begun.

This is what I would classify as a great line by writers for writers. That's not to say that others won't like it, but I think this is a line that most writers would like. As well, this opening line works well in conjunction with the title. The mention of Freud and suicide has a decidedly pleasurable effect.

The next line introduces a scene of a woman writing at a desk, complete with a simile! Then the third line in the book employs the cliched weather report. Since it must be important, I will provide it here for your reading pleasure:

Outside, the sky was ashen gray. Since early November, the air had been bitter cold, and patches of ice had spread over the breadth of the Danube.

So weather introduces the river which introduces the fact that a young bride had just the other week jumped off a bridge, killing herself, with her body washing up, shrouded in white satin.

So the narrative text on the opening page is lyrical, but I'm asking the question: What does this have to do with the lady writing at her desk and as soon as I ask, it hits me, is this lady writing a suicide note? If so, this is a cool beginning. Unfortunately, by the third paragraph Ms. Pronoun is writing a letter to her sister asking for help and then cryptically the third paragraph and page 1 ends:

She would remember this day. It was the beginning.

So a little preamble is inserted assuring us not to worry, there is conflict and story to come, just not really on page 1.

Page 2 begins:

Two Days Earlier

The sky was raining ice...

Someone obviously has a weather fetish; however, the sentence ends well and indeed the weather in this case has some importance in establishing character:

...but the woman hurrying down the boulevard wore no coat or hat.

First thing said:

"Good evening."

I will give this opening a 50/50 rating for the opening line and title and the scene that emerges on page 2 of a frantic woman carrying a sick baby through bad weather.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Harem Midwife by Roberta Rich

Circassian Mountains
Ottoman Empire
1578

One spring morning as the sun dappled the rocks with golden light, drying the dew from the night before, making the world look as scrubbed and as fleecy as a cloud, Leah made a blunder that was to lead to her death.

Preamble. This reads something like a blurb that would be on the back cover, minus, of course the poetiky weather report. And I'm no expert, but Leah doesn't sound like a 16th century name. It may well be, but it sounds a little too modern for me and somewhat obstructs the historical image that this novel will undoubtedly try to create.

By page two there is some back story dump about Yuruks. Slowly, over 13 pages the circumstances of Leah's death emerge.

First thing said:

"Be quiet, or I'll slit your throat too."

This dialogue works at building up conflict and tension, so if there is more conflict like this, that is, to the point, then that's something to look forward to.

Nevertheless, I shan't be finding out.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

The Museum of Extraordinary Things by Alice Hoffman

You would think it would be impossible to find anything new in the world, creatures no man has ever seen before, one-of-a-kind oddities in which nature has taken a backseat to the coursing pulse of the fantastical and the marvelous.

The first fifteen pages are in italics which is annoying and hard to read for me. I'm turned off just like that. But I ignore the italics, which are there, I suppose, either to stress the first fifteen pages and/or make them stand out as special, more special than what comes after which is not in italics. But there are other sections throughout the book in italics so one must assume that the sections in italics are about some other person, are diary entries, or take place in a different time and space etc. from the the rest of the book. Whatever.

As for the sentence itself, of course there are some things that we are still learning about, like some weird deep-water fish that's discovered and looks like the devil's offspring, so I tend to disagree with this line. On the other hand, those who don't read odd news, might agree with this line. Most likely one would have to in order to allow oneself to be pulled into this. Okay, so weirdness exists. But I'm still not hooked. Next line:

I can tell you with certainty that such things exist, for beneath the water there are beasts as huge as elephants with hundreds of legs, and in the skies, rocks thrown alit from the heavens burn through the bright air and fall to earth.

With the date of 1862, we learn why this is all possible. Then we get into back story and family history. As the premise for this novel has already been revealed early on page 1, it is interesting to read about this family whose father is both magician and scientist. This holds my attention for a while but then things get a little too mundane to bother reading on, things like Coney Island history, parks, housekeepers and electricity coming to town, and other descriptive tidbits.

First things said:

"Keep walking"

I like the title, and with the byline hook this should stand tall on the bookstore shelf or display stand.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Other Typist by Suzanne Rindell

They said the typewriter would unsex us.

This is what one may consider a writer's opening line. It is a striking statement that is successful at doing what it is designed to do: attract attention. Anyone at a bookstore who comes across this book accidentally, and opens this to the first page and reads this line will most likely want to read the next and then the next until they find themselves wandering towards the cashier book in hand.

This line doesn't necessarily foreshadow a any particular conflict per say, but rather hints at the premise as the next paragraph explains:

One look at the device itself and you might understand how they - the self-appointed keepers of female virtue and morality, that is - might have reached such a conclusion.

I don't much like the POV switch, but that is my little pet peeve I've yet to come to terms with. This paragraph ends with:

Add to that the sheer violence of its iron arms, thwacking away at the page with unforgiving force. Unforgiving. Yes; forgiving is not the typewriter's duty.

One can't help think that the typewriter is a symbol for something. I'll let you to figure out what. The next paragrpah begins:

I don't suppose I know much about the business of forgiveness, either, as my job has so much to do with the other end of it. Confessions, I mean.

She works for the police and writes out reports on rape, robbery or whatever. Not things a lady was in the habit of being privy to in 1924.

There is more telling about the the life (back story and establishing character motivation) of the narrator and a return to the typewriter unsexing people until finally we come to a scene on page 8 and some dialogue.

First thing said:

"I'm not a ninny, you know."

I like the premise for this and the fact it is revealed early: a secretary to the police. I'm still not sure if this is a mystery or what (I don't read blurbs as they might affect the review process. I have this fear this is a romance or a combination of one with a mystery, but I will read on, as the beginning has pulled me in. Perhaps the time period has something to do with it, you know, the roaring twenties and all.

Verdict: Pass

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Midnight in Europe by Alan Furst

On a soft, winter evening in Manhattan, the fifteenth of December, 1937, it started to snow; big flakes spun lazily in the sky, danced in the lights of the office buildings, then meted as they hit the pavement.

Before the opening pages of text there is a 1938 map of Europe which helps to establish the genre; however, the line above ruins any pleasant expectations I might have had.

The only thing worse than opening with a weather report is opening with a poetic weather report. I blame TV for this line. The author is trying to establish a visual before story: conflict and character. It does not hook, and I can't help but feel my time has been wasted. The description does not end with this line either. The whole first paragraph reads like a travel ad to New York, yes, come visit 1937.

Only with the second paragraph do we get a character together with the headlines of the international news, that of marches, riots, assassinations etc. and some history lessons about Franco before this opening drops into back story regarding this character walking in the snow in New York - with a briefcase. We can only assume there is something important in the briefcase, so readers should watch it closely.

There is a scene here, but it is of a man walking, so the scene is broken up with back story and other expository things to provide context of who this is and why they are walking, yet none of makes me care. It is almost as if the author created the walking scene to break up the back story, and why not? After all, this is usually the purpose of the walking opening, to have characters walking towards an actual plot, and with each step the characters take, we learn about their moods, family history, motivation, fashion tastes and if we're lucky what they had for breakfast.

In general though, what we learn is that the Soviets are doing this and the Nazis are doing that etc.

First thing said:

"Hello, Christian."

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Songs of Willow Frost by Jamie Ford

1934

William Eng woke to the sound of a snapping leather belt and the shrieking of rusty springs that supported the threadbare mattress of his army surplus bed.

There aren't too many ways to make a bed setting opening interesting. After all, it's just someone waking up. People do that hundreds and thousands of times in their lives. It is not gripping. One could make the argument that every story should begin with the character waking up but it's just as possible to assume that the character woke up and is awake to react to the inciting event that actually begins a story. Waking up is rarely, if ever, an inciting event. So why do authors do it? Have we been mistreated by society with an overwhelming overdose of cliche, so much so, that our brains are now pickled cliches? Some will argue that usually the bed setting scene is employed to establish setting. I,on the other hand, prefer a story to start with conflict.

In this case, with this novel we get a sense of the setting and that it might be harsh in that William is sleeping on a surplus bed, but as we don't know who William is, a man or a child, we can't tell just how horrible this opening line is. The snapping of a leather belt sounds promising though. Perhaps someone is getting beaten. Many readers would infer this and so get hooked.

As we read on, still on page 1, we learn that William is at an orphanage and that the sisters like to beat kids who wet the bed and believe that bed wetting is the result of unsavory, nay sinful, self-touching, so the boys are tied to the bed. Apparently this works. So we learn that beds are related to some conflict, which salvages the opening and cancels out the bed setting cliche.

In general this opening is all about the evil sisters who abuse orphans in the 1930's. This premise is filled with conflict, just that it's been done before. But people can't get enough of evil nuns who beat children, so it will hook most people.

First thing said:

"I told you it would work."

Verdict: Pass

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

'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 Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas

On the first Monday of the month of April, 1625, the market town of Meung, in which the author of ROMANCE OF THE ROSE was born, appeared to be in as perfect a state of revolution as if the Huguenots had just made a second La Rochelle of it.

I like this line. There's a date which is a little obtrusive, but there is wit and conflict - a revolution is flowering. I don't know who the author of Romance of the Rose is but I can google that. It is annoying though, that I have to google something in the first line. But google I do. I assume it's the book by Guillaume de Lorris, but if it isn't, whatever.

There is a lot of information in this sentence. I guess this was written back in the days when information was entertainment. Huguenots is familiar to me but La Rochelle is not. Not such a good idea to introduce people, places or things that are local, if you are trying to reach a wide audience. It could turn a lot of people off before they even get a chance to turn the page. But there is tone and conflict, so most people would read on, even if they had no idea that they were reading The Three Musketeers. It would be interesting, with some of these classics, to have people read the opening lines without knowing what they were reading, to see if it hooked them or not. I suspect that with today's TV induced coma brains, most people would fail this opening.

What follows is a reference to Don Quixote and a POV switch addressing the reader. Always annoying, unless it's Dr. Seuss.

First thing said:

"My son...this horse was born in the house of your father about thirteen years ago, and has remained in it ever since, which ought to make you love it." 

This is part of the series: the top 100 novels from Daniel S. Burt's book called Novel 100, the top 100 novels of all time. There is debate of course as to what should be on that list, but his opinions are as good as any. The Three Musketeers is number 98.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

London by Edward Rutherfurd

Many times since the Earth was young, the place had lain under the sea.

There's a preface, but I skipped that. This is the opening line of chapter 1.

So, this opening begins with setting, in point of fact, it begins with the beginning of setting, the creation of setting - in short - geology. It's nice that the author does this, as it warns me what to expect. There is no way I will keep reading this mammoth book that begins with the geological history of the setting of a story. By beginning at the beginning of time this could be nothing more than an epic epic.

On a positive note, as this novel is titled London, we can infer that the city itself will be treated as a character in itself. So in a sense this novel begins like David Copperfield, only with a place and not with a person. It's the ultimate back story dump.

The next paragraph goes on to explain how England was formed four hundred million years ago, moving along to the ice age, to the Roman Empire etc.

On page four, after we get the gist of the first four hundred million years, we are introduced to a boy.

First thing said:

"You needn't worry."

Overall, the beginning looks like a well re-imagined history of London and people who like history and time travel should be turned on by this.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Blood on the Strand by Susanna Gregory

Prologue 
London, early May 1663

Matthew Webb was cold, wet and angry.

This line does not hook. We have an ageless male, though luckily with a name, and we learn little else other than he is cold (weather reference), wet (weather reference) and angry (also weather reference?). Naturally, the next line enters into a weather report, because I assume the writer fears the reader may be confused as to what cold and wet actually mean. After all, readers are stupid, right? They always misunderstand us intellectually superior writers and go off thinking the wrong thing, like, for example, this guy was just swimming or had taken a shower. So let's be clear, he's wet and cold, because it is raining. For some unknown reason, this is a very important plot point which the writer feels must be made clear before any story begins.

That's right, weather is not story or this would be a bestseller: Bob woke up and saw it was raining on his house. The end.

Next line:

The rain, which had started as an unpleasant, misty drizzle, was now the kind of drenching downpour that was likely to last all night.

So the opening conflict in this novel is bad weather. Been done before. Not interesting. The rest of the first paragraph develops how bad the weather is, in case you aren't clear. Actually, it reads like the author is trying to put the reader in the rain.

Honestly, even though so many novels begin with the weather phenomena, I can't understand how anyone would think weather in the first paragraph would hook. Who is interested in a rainy day, and who believes that weather is a gripping problem or an inciting event worthy of beginning a story? Who demands a novel begin with weather, because if it doesn't they just won't understand what is going on?

Of course, many will argue that weather establishes mood, but that is exactly what makes it a cliche.

To make it worse this character is walking - walking towards the plot and, one hopes, towards the opening conflict, but of course there are no guarantees. So with the opening prologue, we are confronted with two cliches so far. One more and this will be an automatic epic fail and be honored with the three-hit-cliche award. Curious if this will be the case, I read on.

Chapter 1:

Westminster, late May 1663

Hailstones as large as pigeons' eggs pelted the royal procession as it trooped down King Street from the palace at White Hall, and any semblance of dignity was lost in the ensuing scramble for shelter.

Hm. Another weather conflict. At least this weather report suggests a little more conflict than the previous one in the prologue. Hail the size of a pigeon's egg can hurt.

In general this novel opens with the proverbial lens zoomed out, as if we are up in an airplane looking down at the plot and characters as if they are ants, slowly coming in closer and closer for a landing where the plot is waiting. Zoomed out beginnings are less interesting. The prologue opening was a little more zoomed in in the fact that we had an actual character who was expressing negativity, though for unknown reasons.

With the zoomed out technique, the author chooses to set the setting before beginning the story. It is the old-school writing style and doesn't hook modern audiences like it did for those who lived in a world before photography and moving images. However, I do understand the motivation for being descriptive early, as this is an historical novel and establishing setting is important - just not at the expense of story conflict, you know, things happening to people, which does not include getting wet in the rain.

First thing said:

"I do not like you."

At least the opening dialogue offers conflict.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Theodore MOracht

Lovers at the Chameleon Club, Paris 1932 by Francine Prose

Paris
May 14, 1924

Dear parents,
Last night I visited a club in Montparnasse where the men dress as women and the women as men.

What makes this sentence work is that the date is 1924. If this was a modern story set in 2014 it would not have the same impact, though undoubtedly still hook some people.

The rest of the first paragraph:

Papa would have loved it. And Mama's face would have crinkled in that special smile she has for Pap's passion for everything French.

I like that the password to get in is: Police! Open up! The exposition at the beginning is interesting and pulls the reader in as it establishes time and place and character. I think it's because of the letter writing style, which just tells the news, giving the reader the feeling of eavesdropping.

First thing said:

"Why not?"

Verdict: Pass

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Lost Souls of Angelkov by Linda Holeman

April 1861

The day his son was stolen, Konstantin had noticed the difference in the air.

I was scrolling through many books today with horrible, boring first sentences at the Google bookstore before I finally came across this opening line which I like. I wanted to write a review about a good opening line today.

Unfortunately, the next line describes the smell of the air as something that means the end of winter. I assume it is that muddy spring smell. In any case, the second line is about weather, which does not further conflict but instead only tells us the season, which is totally unnecessary because the date is already given and if readers want to imagine April, they can so so perfectly without the descriptive prompt.

I never will understand why the weather needs to be reported in the first paragraph of a book. It never hooks. It may create some mood and establish an element of setting, but without conflict, setting does not hook -  especially something as flimsy as the weather. I am getting tired of reading book openings day after day that begin with weather, it's starting to turn me off to opening a book at all. Weather is not creative, it is cliche for the millionth time already. Books that do not begin with weather or have very little weather at the beginning are starting to look like works of genius to me now.

Fortunately the opening line does hook. There is a character and a major conflict plot point.

First thing said:

"Papa, someone's coming."

This is still on the first page and the scene quickly unfolds as the abduction takes shape on page 2. It definitely hooks.

Verdict: Pass

I would score this higher if it hadn't wasted my time with the weather so early on.

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Book of Human Skin by Michelle Lovric

If you ever see a portrait of a nun, you should know she was a dead woman when it was painted.

It's nice when we are confronted with an opening line that provides some information that most people are not aware of. I had read this somewhere before, but nevertheless it is striking. It raises a question - is this about a dead nun? We are given further explanation:

Nuns may not have their portraits painted while they are alive, a nun's face being nobody's business, not even her own, not even her bother's.

There is not much conflict in this opening, but it is an usual thought, at least by today's standards and attracts attention. The next paragraph:

If I had known that fact when I set out to discover what had happened to my sister, I would have saved myself a voyage and a disease, and I might never have laid a hand upon a fatal book of human skin, making cannibals of my nine remaining fingers.

Thus we get the hint of conflict, a sister missing in action and a book of human skin, which would mildly interest most people. There is some preamble, but as this a first person narrative a little preamble is okay, as long as there is something interesting, something more than just saying, "Hey, here's a story."

First thing said:

"But you are one of us, young chap!"

Verdict: Pass

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird