The Orchard of Lost Souls by Nadifa Mohamed

Five a.m.

With a title like The Orchard of Lost Souls one should expect an element of the artsy-fartsy, and one characteristic of the artsy-fartsy is short sentences that are meant as powerful expressions or impressions of the soul. If you disagree, that means you are stupid, lowbrow and need to read more Pynchon and Hosseini or in a pinch Dare Me by Megan Abbott. That will get you in the mood for brief, cutting sentence fragments filled with angst, music, soul. Next line:

Too early to eat.

The only good thing about these opening lines is that they are short. Oops, but the next sentence is long:

There is hardly any light, perhaps just enough to distinguish a dark thread from white, but Kawsar washes her face in the basin inside her bathroom, runs a caday over her teeth and slips into the day's costume without wasting any paraffin.

Someone was obviously paying attention to her creative writing teachers, those failed writers, who drone on about always mixing up the narrative with a combination of short simple sentences and long complex structures. In fact, as this moves on, it is clear it is well written, too bad there is no hook, although someone oiling the knees comes pretty darn close to hooking me.

First thing said:

"What took you so long, saamaleyl?"

There are some foreign words and weird sounding names in this so if you don't mind losing a filling trying to pronounce some words, go for it. Overall, this type of book isn't usually written with a hook (character and conflict, strikingly out of the ordinary) on page 1; instead, they try to put the reader into a trance with beautiful words and images, hoping that they will be hypnotized into reading more. The hook is soft and gentle. Readers won't notice they're even hooked until they are way into the book and unable to put it down. Once they're hooked, they'll wonder: When did that happen?

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Rudy Globird

Promises in Death by J.D. Robb

She was dead the minute she answered the 'link.

So we have what looks like a dead prologuie in this opening line of the prologue. The question here is what does it mean by the 'link? The rest of the paragraph explains that "she" the pronoun really wasn't dead as soon as she answered the 'link, because she gets excited and gets dressed, so the opening line is speaking figuratively, not literally. The short prologue ends with this prologuie dying, of course, at the hands of a friend. That is all we learn.

Chapter 1:

Eve stepped out of the shower and into the drying tube.

At this point I'm thinking this story takes place in the future and the word 'link is some kind of future technology. Placing little words here and there will have a way of doing that. It's not bad; it's better than having a description or setting dump that goes for pages. Little is more.

The opening paragraph does little except describe the day in the life of someone in the future and does not hook.

First thing said:

"Be back soon."

The prologue has hooking elements in it but as it is a prologue, the writer must rehook in chapter 1, as the first chapter, where the protagonist's story begins, usually consists of different characters in different places with different problems. However, what makes a chapter 1 unpalatable is that the connection between chapter 1 and the prologue are never evident - so much so that it sometimes feels like one is reading a new story.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Northanger Abbey by Val McDermid

It was a source of constant disappointment to Catherine Morland that her life did not more closely resemble her books.

Obviously a reimaging of Jane Austen and obviously intentional. It is similar in tone to Pride and Prejudice. It's amazing how often Austen is rewritten in the 21st century. One wonders if it is either because her work is hard for the modern mind to relate to and needs a bit of dumbing down, or because people can't get enough of her. I suspect a little of the former and a lot of the later.

This opening line manages to hook for some reason, though the credit is to Austen and not McDermid, who acknowledges the fact. It sums up Austen's Northanger Abbey in many ways. But the line is also self-evident. Most readers want their lives to be like how they are in the novels they read, that is one reason why they read and in some cases obsess over them. The Harry Potter series, Twilight Saga and The Catcher in the Rye come to mind. (Sorry for putting Twilight and The Catcher in the Rye together in the same sentence, but they do share a common publisher in Little Brown. Shame on you Little Brown.)

First thing said:

"And what kind of future is she going to have?"

Good thing there's no copyright on titles, for it's the title together with the byline hook that will make people seek this title out. Even though, Austen's Northanger Abbey is not considered her greatest work, it is her one novel that I enjoyed the most and will probably reread some day. Anyone who knows anything about that novel, will be tempted by this and pray it is similar in some way.

Just for point of reference, the opening line from Austen's work:

No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine.

Jane Austen was apt at writing opening lines and has several that are memorable.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Leopard by Giuseppe di Lampedusa

NUNC et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.

I thought this was translated? So why is the first sentence in another language, and a dead language at that?

Next line:

The daily recital of the Rosary was over. 

The only thing better about this line than the first is that I understand it.

For half an hour the steady voice of the Prince had recalled the Glorious and the Sorrowful Mysteries; for half an hour other voices had interwoven a lilting hum from which, now and again, would chime some unlikely word: love, virginity, death; and during that hum the whole aspect of the rococo drawing room seemed to change; even the parrots spreading iridescent wings over the silken walls appeared abashed; even the Magdalen between the two windows looked a penitent and not just a handsome blonde lost in some dubious daydream, as she usually was.

This reads as if it had been written a hundred years ago, as the descriptive element reminds me of Manzoni, but this was published in 1958 posthumously after some rejection - the same year as Murray Leinster's War with the Gizmos. So not a bad year.

After reading this opening, I can understand why some readers might find it hard to keep reading. Their loss, one must assume. Although this novel was written as a means of combating depression, which does not bode well, it is this that actually makes me want to read on more than anything in the opening pages. Description rarely hooks, no matter how wonderfully written it is. However, there is some suggestion of conflict with the words: love, virginity, death. 

First thing said:

"Those swine stink even when they’re dead."

The opening dialogue looks promising and indicates a master writer at work. It reveals character, an internal attitude, and some conflict in the form of dead bodies. Nevertheless, the droning on of opening narrative text is for insomniacs, not me.

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 Leopard comes in at the 93rd greatest novel of all time.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Death of a Policeman by M. C. Beaton

The fact that all the police forces in Scotland were to be amalgamated into one large force struck terror into police headquarters in Strathbane.

This line has just a dash of conflict. What it does establish for certain is setting, which is nice in this case if you like reading stories about Scotland. We learn a little later that one detective is happy with this news and since it is terrible news we can assume this detective likes this news for nefarious reasons. He wants to wiggle a certain police sergeant out of his cozy station in a town that will give you laryngitis trying to pronounce it.

First thing said:

"Sutherland is a huge country and it is surely economical to have Macbeth cover all of it."

As this is a series book, those who have read others and are into this are hooked by default as this book probably begins were the last left off. I've read a few of them and they start to tire after a while, with the same character conflicts and behavior, book after book. Cozies aren't usually design to hook in the first sentence or paragraph for fear of giving the readers who adore them a heart attack. Cozies ease their readers into the conflict. So one really has to show a commitment to them before beginning. Fortunately, they are usually worth the time.

However, as this is a mystery novel, there needs to be a mystery sooner rather than later. All of chapter 1's 20 pages is set-up that creates the red herrings by establishing motives for suspects. Only at the beginning of chapter 2 do we get a body.

Verdict: Pass (barely)

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

The Water Rat of Wanchai by Ian Hamilton

When the phone rang, Ava woke with a start.

Sigh. Once again we are confronted with a two-cliche hit: bed setting and phone call. One more character in the volumes pop cliche culture waking up to receive a phone call that the novel is starting, and it's all happening right at the perfectly placed cliche hour: 3 AM.

First thing said:

"Wei, Ava Lee."

Foreign dialogue is weak. It's used not because English readers understand what is being said, but because someone thinks that it creates mood and helps to establish setting. It doesn't, it only establishes lazy writing.

On the plus side the scene on page 1 starts to move with dialogue although it's mostly superfluous chit-chat, with no plot point revealed. However, the characters do reveal themselves and a bit about their past. Then one of the characters apologizes for being vague,which is thoughtful. Chapter 1 ends with a promise that at some point, perhaps in chapter 2, a hook will emerge.

This opening is so boring that I can't even muster the energy to shame this. Perhaps it would have been better if Rudy had reviewed this opening instead of me.

Verdict: Fail

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht

Under Cold Stone by Vicki Delany

A cafe. Banff, Alberta. Friday Morning.

The scent of warm baking and fresh coffee was enticing enough to have Lucky Smith willing to endure the cafe's long line.

The conflict in this opening line is that people including the protagonist are waiting outside in the cold to get some muffins or whatever. So this gets the food/eating cliche opening.

I don't understand what drives people to write such sentences:

Paul took his coffee black and liked Tim Horton's just fine - although in this town the Tim's could have quite the line-up for coffee and donuts - and his passion was fishing.

This is not the only one. The opening is a series of discombobulated sentences and paragraphs.

Conflict emerges in the form of some idiots not knowing how to wait in a line up, which is a pain in the butt to experience so most people can certainly relate to these people, you know, the ones who think they walk the earth alone. It doesn't help that in this case these obnoxious characters are a bit drunk and getting all sexist.

First thing said:

"There's a line up here."

Verdict: Pass (barely)

I'll give this a higher rating than I think I should because the opening scene is one I can relate to and something I can care about and get all emotional about.

Sincerely,
Theodore Moracht