Snow White Must Die by Nele Neuhaus

The rusty iron staircase leading downstairs was narrow and steep.

After the all important introduction of a rusty staircase we get Mr. Pronoun feeling for the light switch. The opening paragraph is long and descriptive with heavy words designed to create an overwhelming sense of atmosphere akin to a 1970's B film Gothic epic - until a Bryan Adams' song starts playing, that is. Fortunately, we're not made privy to which.

First thing said:

"Hello, Snow White."

The point of the prologue is that Ms. Pronoun, called Snow White, must be kept hidden. We can infer she is dead, until the writer comes out and states this directly, for those who don't have a very high reading comprehension level. This pronoun must be a little weird for keeping a dead body and pretending it is still alive, talking to it, dreaming for it to smile. So there is a little mystery here that raises some questions. But as I've seen Psycho, I can't say I'm too shocked by this plot point. Truth be told, weirdos keeping dead bodies as companions is getting a bit cliche in fiction.

Chapter 1:

Thursday, November 6, 2008

He didn't say "See you later."

The reason why is apparent in the next line:

Nobody who was let out of the slammer ever said "See you later."

The pronounolgy is ripe in this opening. Mr. Pronoun is let out of prison. Not much conflict here, unless the guy is homicidal or something.

Setting is established first to establish mood. The pronounology only adds to this effect and is obviously intentional. Doing it this way may hook some readers, but in my experience and to my taste, it comes off as melodramatic and, well, cheesy.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

The Jaguar by T. Jefferson Parker

The black van rolled across the barnyard in the rain and stopped beneath an enormous oak tree.

This opening line fails to hook and is doubly boring because of the two cliches employed, the weather opening and the car opening. This might be forgiven if the next line introduced conflict or character but the next line doesn't. See for yourself:

It was a large vehicle but under the canopy it was poorly visible, a dark shape within greater darkness.

For some reason it is more important to describe this nondescript vehicle than to dive into conflict. Nevertheless, as it's these two lines allow the reader to assume something is not right.  Then men spill out of the van and advance to a stable and then to a ranch house. This could be an invasion of Jehovah's Witnesses or a SWAT team. Meanwhile a man is upstairs watching as he buttons his jeans. The paragraph ends with:

He was twenty-one years old.

Like I need to know this now. Who cares how old he is. Tell me when it matters.

First thing said:

"Men are here."

This comes on the first page and only confirms what the opening paragraph revealed anyway, so it's actually redundant.

However, by the end of page 1 a scene is rapidly unfolding, in which men with guns are storming a house. It escalates quickly. The man who is 21 and who buttoned his jeans, Bradley, is knocked out and when he wakes up he is in a very small, confined space on page 3. Most readers will be pulled in as the tension rises as this man tries to figure out where he is. Then the van men present conditions this Bradley must meet in ten days or his wife gets it; they'll mail him her skin rolled up in a small box, and so begins a ticking-clock plot scenario, which is always good for some suspense and quick-paced reading.

Verdict: Pass

I would score this higher but the opening line is an utter fail. Obviously some people don't value the power of the opening line.

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Mean Streak by Sandra Brown

Emory hurt all over.

This sentence has all the ingredients of a good hook - almost. It's short, which is good. There's a name instead of a pronoun, which is good. Hurting is good, as it suggests something is not right. However, hurting is not that unusual so although this is a hook of sorts, it's fairly weak. Next line:

It hurt even to breathe. 

This clarifies the hurting a bit to suggest that this pain is probably serious. The next paragraph is a weather report, so not much time, ink or paper is wasted to get to that cliche. It's cold and Emory is underdressed. The fact she's not dressed properly makes the weather report not entirely superfluous. If the writer only stated she was underdressed without stating the cold, readers wouldn't have had enough information to understand the conflict, so weather here is okay, but the weathery description could have been shortened a bit.

This short prologue follows someone in the middle of nowhere, with a fractured foot running from something or someone, until the end when pain skyrockets through her skull. We are left wondering: Did she die or not? So there are a couple questions raised.

Chapter 1:

"Does it hurt this much?"

This is also the first thing said in the novel. Dr. Emory is saying this so the reader is left wondering if this is the same Emory from the prologue and if so are the events in the prologue before or after the events of chapter 1. If not, how many Emorys are there in this book?

The scene is a little dull. A little girl has an earache and Dr. Emory is checking her out. It's not much of anything except a character building scene which reveals that Emory is going away for the weekend, perhaps to the scene of the prologue?

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Peter Pan Must Die by John Verdon

Long Before the Killing Began

There was a time when he dreamt of being the head of a great nation.

Obviously this writer's strength lies in creating great titles and subtitles. In regards to the opening line, it has a hint of preamble. There isn't much difference between There was a time... and Once upon a time.... Is there?

Then the final sentence fragment of the first paragraph of the prologue, inserted like a thundering PS with a drum roll, is:

A nuclear power.

Then:

As president, he would have his finger on the nuclear trigger. With a twitch of that finger he could launch nuclear missiles... He could put an end to the human stink.

It's nice when a story starts with such a sympathetic pronoun. Come on, let's admit it, we've all felt this kind of rage and have all dreamed about there being fewer people around at some point in our lives. Actually, there is something to be said about starting off with the antagonist - and I assume this is the antagonist as I don't think too many people would be rooting for a sociopath protagonist wishing he could blow up the world. Beginning with a disturbed bad guy is a pretty common thing to do in prologues though.

Then we learn this pronoun has issues with The Nightmare (my capitalization) and a wheezing clown that hurts this pronoun for money. Honestly, this sort of hooks me, but alas, it is the prologue and the next page which is chapter 1 has absolutely nothing to do with the prologue, so I can't really be bothered to read on.

Chapter 1:

In the rural Catskill Mountains of upstate New York, August was an unstable month, lurching back and forth between the bright glories of July and the gray squalls of the long winter to come.

So we get some weather in the opening line. Nothing much interesting in this. However, the writer tries (rather feebly in my opinion) to connect this ...month that could erode one's sense of time and place to feeding a character's confusion, or more accurately, at least seeming to. That is to say, the weather is used to introduce a character's state of mind, whose name is, um, Gurney. Anyone like a metaphor with their cup of characterization?

Then we're thrown into some moldy back story about retirement, the wife, moving and kids. It's brief though, so that's good. Unfortunately, it's interrupted with more weather to begin paragraph 3.

First thing said:

"This is our secret."

This is what is said in the Nightmare. First thing a verified character says:

"Is that a tarn?"

By golly, I think it is. However, the characters are not sure and need to discuss it for a bit.

Verdict: Fail

I love the title. If I was reviewing just the title (As I get lazier, I just might start doing that), I'd give this five stars.

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Lincoln Myth by Steve Berry

Prologue
Washington, D.C.
September 10, 1861

Abraham Lincoln kept his temper under control, but the woman standing across from him was taxing his patience.

So begins a novel that I presume is taking advantage of the Lincoln craze that has been going on lately. Lincoln, in America, is always a topic of pride, but more so after the Vampire Hunter premise. Now, he's cool, too.

With this opening line we have Lincoln and a woman and what looks like a bad situation, so this has the potential to hook.

First thing said:

"The general did only what all decent people believe to be right."

The rest of the prologue suggests that there is a secret or mystery passed down from president to president, a plotting technique reminiscent of The Da Vinci Code.

Chapter 1:

Off the coast of Denmark
Wednesday, October 8
7:40 P.M.

One glance and Cotton Malone knew there was trouble.

In other words, he knew this was the beginning of a novel. Of course, the book begins in a different time and place than the prologue, so if the prologue hooked you, then it's pretty easy to get unhooked now and move on to the next book.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Ophelia Cut by John Lescroart

Anthony Xavier Ricci never set an alarm clock because he never needed one.

How kind of the author to give the full name of the character, which of course is better than simply using a pronoun, but in point of fact provides no concrete information about the character other than the fact the character is most likely male. Despite my flippancy, a name is a million times better than a pronoun.

Now, despite the fact that there is the bed setting cliche used here (or someone waking up from a nap in this case), it is used in such a way that does manage to reveal a bit of character: that this guy doesn't need an alarm clock and has an internal clock. It could mean many things, like this guy is obsessive-compulsive or was in the army and had the alarm clock drilled into his brain. However, even though there is some data to work with, there really isn't anything yet to get us caring about this Anthony guy.

The next paragraph is descriptive with fragments of a back story dump about Ricci being in the NYPD for X number of years, his apartment that looks like a cellar but is really neat with various things inside it. We even get to learn what kind of stereo and TV he has!

Then we learn why Ricci needed a nap because the previous night he'd been to a cop party until 4 A.M., and of curse Ricci had to get up at dawn to do his seven-mile run before doing his laundry and doing some grocery shopping. So, anyway after napping, Ricci showers and shaves and even weighs himself! All explained in loving detail. He then puts on his Dockers, tennis shoes, a Knicks sweatshirt and hoodie. Then he sits on his bed and looks at some photos which is the writing method for which Terri an ex-girlfriend is introduced...

I don't know what comes next because I got so bored that I needed to take a nap. That's right, I stopped reading. Why would anyone be surprised with stopping? There is no conflict, just boring mundane details in the day in a life of some guy I care nothing about, because on the surface he's like every other human being out there trying to make a positive go of it, you know, keeping fit and clean. Lord, why did I read this?

First thing said:

"Anybody want anything while I'm up?"

My mother used to say that during the TV commercial break. So I like that opening bit of dialogue, even though it doesn't move plot forward or reveal character.

For a thriller which is supposed to have "nail-biting suspense" this opening is anything but.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

The Farm by Tom Rob Smith

Until that phone call it had been an ordinary day.

This opens with the phone call cliche, and with that opening phrase: Until that phone call[,]...there is a comma that's gone AWOL. Kids, look away!

Anyway, I suppose there is some foreshadowing in this line, but it's so obvious, like saying: This story will have a problem! Next line:

Laden with groceries, I was walking home through Bermondsey, a neighborhood of London, just south of the river.

Another cliche, the walking cliche, with a standard GPS info dump, which in a most uncreative way, introduces the setting. This could have been revealed as a subheading like: South London, Bermondsey - except there are no headings in this book and the fact that this bit of information isn't at all important or interesting, unless we infer that Bermondsey is the Farm. I couldn't care less where this pronoun is at this point. He could be walking down the little yellow brick road for all I care. I just don't need to know. What do I need to know in order to care? Answer: Conflict, pain, suffering directed towards this pronoun. So, in theory, that should come before explaining where Mr. Pronoun is.

As well, I'd move that last comma up to the first line if there is a shortage of commas at Grand Central Publishing. Next line:

It was a stifling August evening and when the phone rang I considered ignoring it, keen to hurry home and shower.

The third line of this novel rounds out the three-hit-cliche wonder. Absolutely nothing in these three lines is interesting and worthy of being published. A writer only gets one opening, one opening line, and this one wastes it on boring cliches of some pronoun getting a phone call while carrying groceries. Who wants to read about that? It happens everyday to millions and millions and millions of people.

Then we get a smidgen of back story after we learn that the person calling is this pronoun's father.

First thing said:

"Dad?"

As was just mentioned, Dad is calling, and he's crying, something this pronoun has never heard before. So, while still on the first page, conflict is introduced in the form of a sick Mom, who is apparently imagining things. This is the hook, and I think it will hook most people. I mean, who isn't interested in hallucinating mothers? If this hook were on page 4 or page 10, this book would have been highly recommended as a cure to insomnia and would've given some of Henry James's work a run for its money.

Overall, the first paragraph is a waste of space and a fail, but the opening recovers quickly with dialogue and conflict. The first section ends on page 3 with the pronoun, now with a name, Daniel, promising to get on a plane and fly to Sweden and to...the...farm, because suddenly Daniel realizes that that is where the story of this novel is, and Daniel is not where the story is and has to get his butt there, hopefully before chapter 2. However, first the reader must endure a back story dump that is not very thrilling.

My advice: Wait for this book to hit the remainder bins and pick it up for two bucks, because Grand Central Publishing almost certainly overprinted this one. That's what I did with the other books by this author, books which I still have not read. They do serve as excellent dust catchers though.

Verdict: Pass (Barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht.

The Death Trade by Jack Higgins

The man who called himself Ali LeBlanc surfaced from a deep sleep to cries of anguish, screams, gunfire, exploding grenades, and the roaring of many engines.

It is a sad commentary on the human psyche in this period of time that violence should hook people into reading books, or, in the very least, that writers think it will. It's cliche, kitsch really, and so not very creative. Added to this beginning is a character waking up in bed to what seems like the ultimate alarm clock therefore we have a nicely little packaged cliche beginning.

This line introduces some standard conflict in a foreign locale, unless this is set in Detroit. Fortunately, we learn in paragraph 2 - designated the back story paragraph - that it's actually Baghdad. It's not so good to have back story so soon, but in this case it is brief and some of the info is important, though perhaps not all necessary on page 1. The third paragraph is the paint me a picture of what this guy looks like paragraph.

First thing said:

"Stay back from sight. It's a butcher's shop out there."

For some reason comparing a battle scene to a butcher's shop is lowbrow, tasteless and overdone.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Accident by Chris Pavone

Prologue

He awakens suddenly, in terror.

A pronoun waking up in terror has been done to death as an opening in books, short stories, films, TV shows, commercials, poems, raps, banner ads, eulogies and gossip, etc. Obviously, however, some people haven't gotten the memo. As there is little in this line to interest the well read, let's read on at least to the end of the first paragraph and see what happens with Mr. Pronoun.

He spins his head around the spare room, searching the darkest shadows in the blue wash of moonlight, sitting bolt upright, head cocked, alert for noises. He reaches his hand across his body, and grabs the gun.

Yikes. He spins his head around the room? Who is this guy, the love child of Wile E. Coyote and Regan from The Exorcist? And of course, he reaches for "the" gun, which is even more predictable than a tough, hunkly (did I just make that word up?) pronoun waking up. It's also a little awkward that as Manly Pronoun spins his head around the room, he is searching the darkest shadows while in the process of sitting upright - that is, all at the same time. Present participle forms of the verb are used to show those verbs are occurring at the same time as other verbs like spin. Example: He walks down the street and goes into the store. Happening at the same time? Nope. What about:  He walks down the street, going into the store. Happening at the same time? Yes, with the aid of the multi-moment phasing app now available for download from Google Play.

I would have the pronoun bolt upright first and then spin his head around the room, searching for whatever...

As well, it sounds strange that "reach" is used transitively, that is, with an object (hand): He reaches his hand across his body. Why is Mr. Pronoun's hand the object of the verb reaching which his hand is doing? Hm? In my neck of the English woods, "reach" is used intransitively (without an object): His hand reaches across his body... Of course, that's not to say "reach" never has an object, as in traveling: I reached the shore. A quick Google search shows that this He reaches his hand... phrasing has been used before: He reached his hand down. Not many search results though,  so it's a construction with only a small cult following. I still think it sounds weird, but I might use it.

Aegis: Can you reach that book for me?
Superman: Sure I will reach my hand to that book, because I like reaching my hands.

I guess this opening paragraph feels like writing. With the next paragraph we learn that that first paragraph was a false alarm! In other words, it's a clumsy way of foreshadowing that there is a problem, which is, put quite simply, not where it should be: in the first paragraph. This technique dangerously borders on the "ha-ha made you look" trick that I hate. You know, the openings that begin with an exciting dream or film scene on TV that the character is watching and the scene has nothing to do with the actual story.

The prologue is short, but out of the 13 paragraphs, 8 start with pronouns. Later we learn that Mr. Pronoun is a writer and he's written a memoir and that an earlier draft was in first person but in the final draft he'd changed it to third person and was obsessing whether he'd caught all the first person references - not really fascinating. His epilogue ends:

...if what you are reading is a finished book...I am...dead.

Chapter 1:

It is just before dawn when Isabel Reed turns the final sheet of paper.

We assume that this is Mr. Pronoun's book in the prologue and that Mr. Pronoun is dead. Honestly, I don't care if I'm wrong and I don't have much interest in finding out one way or the other.

First thing said:

"My God."

Indeed.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

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

The Doll by Taylor Stevens

Palms to the glass, watching the lot from his office window, Miles Bradford saw her topple.

Character and conflict is about all that is needed in an opening line, and this line has both. It begins right away with a scene of someone falling.  At first Miles thinks that the person will get back up and they will laugh about it but the woman does not get back up, so he rushes out.

Back story is inserted painlessly and sparingly on a need to know basis and doesn't slow the pace of the forward narrative allowing the reader to be pulled in without noticing the book in his or her hands.

Of course, if you're not a fan of this genre, you may not like this no matter how it's written. This is not classic literature that alien anthropologists will be studying thousands of years from now once humanity has destroyed itself, but it's a good time killer until then.

The title is weak though. It's ambiguous and could mean many different things and make readers associate to the ends of the earth, which the writer might prefer they didn't. For example, I think of Tim Thomerson and the Dollman.

First thing said:

"What the hell was that all about?"

Verdict: Pass

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

The Target by David Baldacci

Four hundred men lived here, most for the rest of their time on earth.

This is the first line and first paragraph of the novel. The next line:

And then hell would get them for the rest of eternity.

Beginning a sentence and a paragraph with "and" is not grammatically sound, so why do writers do this? One possibility is that it makes what follows sound more dramatic. That is to say, grammar and syntax is used to make a sentence more conceptually powerful, suggesting that what is expressed in the sentence is not powerful enough on its own, so the deployment of special grammar and punctuation to ensure that said sentence is gripping is used. This second sentence is also a paragraph left on its own, presumably so it will stand out more. Personally, I feel that if the And then was removed from that second sentence and it was tagged onto the first paragraph, it would have the same power, if not more. It would certainly look less like narrative text. Its writing like this that makes writing look like writing. However, most people do not notice this, nor do they care.

Nevertheless, there is a hook here. The story begins right away, with four hundred characters locked up. This sentence raises questions which pulls the reader into the story with conflict. As well, it's a bonus there are no cliches, which is a breath of fresh air.

The first full proper paragraph (not that the others were absolutely improper) is a descriptive and back story paragraph, which is important (now that conflict has been established) to provide some context. It's effective back story, not only because it's brief, but because it raises more questions. In general, I could do with less description, but in this case, it suggests more conflict in the form of a grimy prison, so it's acceptable.

In the beginning of a story, in the first couple pages, the way to hook is through conflict. Bad things happening to characters, emotional trauma, horrible back story, and/or an oppressive/trying setting, as well as ominous mood, etc. If writers do this, there will always be readers hooked, and hopefully enough to make plenty of money to pay for that second swimming people or those vital botox treatments.

By the end of the first page an actual character is revealed as the conflict is further developed.

First thing said:

"What in the hell do you have to smile about, Earl?"

Verdict: Pass

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Shadow People by James Swain

Something didn't feel right.

Next line:

It wasn't the setting.

So begins an obvious ploy to introduce setting. We get a paragraph describing the setting which is not part of the problem, not part of the something that doesn't feel right.

Then the next paragraph:

Nor was it the other guests sitting at the table with Peter Warlock.

Then we get a description layered with back story of the people who are also not part of the problem, not part of the something that doesn't feel right. Plus, what a name Warlock. Basically, this opening tells us all about what the conflict is NOT. I, however, am not going to fall for this obvious attempt to make back story and exposition seem suspenseful.

The next paragraph begins thus:

Everything looked the same, yet something wasn't right.

Suddenly, I'm reminded of Boris Karoff narrating Dr. Seuss books. Yes, kiddies, something just wasn't quite right. You know the voice. Then the clock strikes midnight and I realize what isn't right: the cliches.

First thing said:

"Ready for take off?"

This is in reference to beginning a seance, and no, they are not at an airport.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Triggers by Robert J. Sawyer

This is how we began...

Susan Dawson - thirty-four, with pale skin and pale blue eyes - was standing behind and to the right of the presidential podium.

I laughed at how the woman's age was slipped into the sentence, as if it really matters at this point.

She spoke into the microphone hidden in her sleeve. "Prospector is moving out."

Sounds like either a take down or a cliche Hollywood opening is about to materialize. Like many books in today's market, this one begins with a movie deal in mind. Honestly, this is how one expects a movie to begin (as many have already), but not necessarily a book. That's not to say that this opening is all wrong, but telling a story using the written word provides advantages no other medium has, and it would behoove a writer to use them, instead of replicating a movie opening.

Nevertheless, this book does open with a scene, some characters and one presumes some budding conflict. By page 2 there is some back story, but it's good back story - brief and filled with conflict, that sets the opening scene in prospective, with recent terrorist attacks.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Codex 632 by Jose Rodrigues Dos Santos

Four.

One word sentences almost always fail. I don't think I've come across any that hook. The only thing good about them is that they are so short they almost don't count and someone would have to be really anal retentive to stop reading a book after only one word. These one word openings are almost always a prelude and the real test is what the next sentence is.

The old historian couldn't know that he only had four minutes left to live.

Thus begins the ticking time bomb plot device, a usually effective and suspenseful device. The next paragraph begins:

The hotel elevator seemed to wait to trap him with wide-open doors.

I like the use of verbs in this sentence. Not the linking verb seem but wait and trap. these verbs draw the image that the elevator can be likened to the jaws of death. The paragraph then proceeds to describes the historian. The next paragraph is one word again:

Three.

Something happens and then:

Two.

You get the idea. This prologie (disposable characters that die in prologues) is running out of time, and we all know how that ends.

Chapter 1:

Had someone told Thomas Noronha, that morning, that the next few months would take him all over the world and into the unraveling of a five-hundred-year-old conspiracy, complete with stories of seafaring adventures during the Age of Discovery, royal espionage between the first two global superpowers, and the esoteric world of Kabbalah and the Knights Templar, he wouldn't have believed it.

This reads like the query letter pitch to a literary agent introducing a book the author is seeking representation for. And why not? It isn't merely preamble - hinting that there is a story, but instead tells us ahead of time what to expect, whetting our curious and selling the premise. It has all the key words: Kabbalah, Knights Templar, conspiracy, esoteric and espionage. People who like these Dan Brown words will not be able to resist.

First thing said:

"Well, good morning."

The first thing said is a fail, though, as it does not develop plot, character, conflict, tone, mood, setting, theme or world view - it's just a boring salutation.

Verdict: Pass Definte

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

When I think of my wife, I always think of her head.

What a kinky beginning, or am I misinterpreting? The narrator goes on to describe the head and its angles like this:

Like a shiny, hard corn kernel or a riverbed fossil.

Flattering. Paragraph 1 ends with a POV switch: You could imagine the skull quite easily.

Um, no I can't, unless you want me to think of it as an over-sized rotting tooth stuck in the dirt and being excavated by Orville Redenbacher.

Paragraph 2 is all of one lonely sentence that stands out in the most comical way:

I'd know her head anywhere.

What would Freud say about this little slip? Personally, I'd bury that sentence in some thickly wooded verbiage, you know, paragraphing à la Kafka, or safer still à la Flaubert and pray readers aren't paying too close attention.

Paragraph 3 gets interesting in a morbidly fascinating way when the narrator talks about how he would love, "like a child", to open his wife's skull and unspool her brain because he wants to know what she's thinking. I thought that was a girl thing, though, always wondering what the better half is thinking. Guys prefer the question: What the hell are you doing? Statistically speaking.

Then come the long, thick paragraphs of back story and I'm already on my way to the next book review.

First thing said:

"Should I remove my soul before I come inside?"

Randomly weird sentence:

My morning breath warmed the pillow, and I changed the subject in my mind.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Slingshot by Matthew Dunn

Berlin, 1995

Each step through the abandoned Soviet military barracks took the Russian intelligence officer closer to the room where men were planning genocide.

It seems we're doing a lot of thrillers that involve the word Soviet lately. Perhaps the publishing industry is subconsciously or consciously trying to tap into the Olympic Games' market - you know, read a thriller about evil Soviets while watching the Games in the ex-Soviet Union. Entertainment tie-ins like this are worth millions.

This opening line is effective; it possesses some setting, a character that is more than just a name or a pronoun  - and a problem, as genocide creates the opportunity for lots of conflict last time I checked. This opening line is also the entire first paragraph. The next line and full paragraph being:

Nikolai Dmitriev hated being here.

Short sentences and short paragraphs speed up the pace, which is useful at the beginning of a story, as it pulls readers in before they can think about resisting to stop reading. Before they know it, they're at the end of chapter 1 and at the check-out line waiting to buy the book.

And the next line and paragraph:

And he loathed what he was about to do.

This line has an element of foreshadowing but also an element of preamble, but it's better than most preambling out there as it does reveal something about the character on an emotional level.

Then there's a short descriptive paragraph before the forward narrative continues onto page 2, where we start getting the standard abbreviations and acronyms that come with this type of thriller: U.S. Delta, SEALs, CIA, SOG, SVR and of course KGB.

First thing said:

"Always late for the party, Nikolai."

Verdict: Pass

Despite the fact that this novel quickly regresses into the genre's clichés, the first sentence does attract attention and pull the reader in, especially so for people who like this genre. Those of you who are fanatical Thomas Hardy or Thomas Pynchon fans, perhaps not.

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

A Corpse's Nightmare by Phillip DePoy

The dead can dream; I'll tell you how I know.

A little philosophy goes a long way, especially if it morbidly unusual - unusual at least for the everyday brain. The narrator does tell us how, or at least begins to tell us, but he certainly loves to beat around the bush, or in this case, beat around the page.

Overall, this is an example of how an opening line works well in conjunction with a title.

First thing said:

"Do you recognize me?"

At the end of my library copy a reader leaves a note about a plot hole but that might not mean there is one, though the handwriting is elegant and looks intelligent so maybe it is a problem. I will have to see.

Verdict: Pass

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

You Are One of Them by Elliott Holt

In Moscow I was always cold.

Not only is this about weather, but it tells me something I already know, and I suspect everyone else with a Grade 6 education knows as evidenced in the next line:

I suppose that's what Russia is known for. Winter.

The whole first paragraph is dedicated to telling us in no uncertain terms that it really, really, really is winter and it really, really, really is cold. Anyway this is a prologue so it doesn't really matter much. Eventually the weather report disperses into a fog of back story filled with Russian words and Russians speaking bad English. With the abbreviations CIA and KGB one might assume that is where the hook is, but as they've been used and done to death, they bore more, despite the flimsy mystery that is suggested towards the end.

Chapter 1

The first defector was my sister.

Not bad, but this sentence is unfortunately followed by back story of the Kodak moment variety. With this opening is one to expect the story to start and stall throughout, as the moods of the author change from vivid description to nostalgic, sentimental back story with only snippets of forward narrative?

On the plus side, (Theodore is making me add plus sides to failed openings) there are lots of little tidbits of details that make the characterization come alive, but for me (according to the definition of a story) those "living" characters need to be immersed in conflict and not reminiscing of past tensions. Reminiscing can come later.

First thing said:

"Why is your mom crying?"

Which was said in a back story moment.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Kiss Me First by Lottie Moggach

It was a Friday night, about nine weeks into the project.

I'm assuming this is a prologue, though it is not identified as being anything. It raises a mildly interesting question: what project? But without more to go on, one can't say one is hooked. So since this line isn't really great, I'll give this a second chance with the next section (chapter 1?).

There is no Internet here, not even dial-up.

In today's world this is a major catastrophe. Conflict galore. Reading on and between the lines, the reader can't help but feel there's a secret behind the plot in this book, though it's a little frustrating - as a mystery and hook are dangling before our eyes but obstinately refusing to reveal it early.

First thing said:

"I'm scared."

This is on the first page and part of a video call so that counts as a phone call opening, but better from a writer's point of few because there is more to work with as both characters can usually see each other and react to facial expressions and so on.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht