Once upon a Time, in the Beginning

First lines are tricksy things, and they're tricksy twice over.

First lines set the mood. A good first line starts you on firm footing; a bad first line and you're already shaky, you already have to work to get back on the level.

It occurred to me the other day that first lines occur twice in a piece of writing's life. There's the obvious one: a reader looks at your website, or picks up your book, or turns the magazine's page to your story, and the first words they read are going to shape their initial impression of you, your writing, and your story.

I mean, how much pressure is that!?

If I see a sloppy first line I have to ask myself, if the author or the editor didn't care enough to make sure that first line was the best it could be, what must the rest of the story be like? An average first line is alright, the book could go either way from there, I'll read on. But an amazing first line grabs hold of you and hooks you right there and then.

OK, so sometimes a good first line draws you in and then the next few lines hook you, but you get the idea.

"As always, before the warmind and I shoot each other, I try to make small talk."

That's the first line from Hannu Rajaniemi's The Quantum Thief. And it's superb. It instantly has me curious, it's unusual and interesting and I want to know more. The Quantum Thief actually has several great first lines - at the beginning of most of its chapters.

"Once there was a city of women."

Mike Carey, Linda Carey and Louise Carey from The City of Silk and Steel. It's succinct and again, interesting, it makes me want to read on. Simplicity can work.

"On playing back the 911 recording, it'd seem that Mrs. Stegman was more concerned that the man outside her apartment door was naked than that he had a big shotgun."

Warren Ellis, Gun Machine. Less elegant perhaps, but it sets the tone, it amuses, it puts me in the mood to read more. And that's the important thing.

First lines are not the be-all and end-all of whether a story is good, of course. I'm sure plenty of bad stories have fantastic first lines, and vice versa. But if the first thing you present is bad, you've already got an uphill struggle to convince the reader that the story is a good one.

But I mentioned two occurrences. And the other is when the writer begins. The first words he puts onto the blank page. We all know how terrifying that expanse of empty white is, like a sheet of ice that needs breaking so that the narrative ship can sail smoothly through, and other such laboured metaphors.

If the first words I put to paper are great, it puts me in a good mood. If they come easily and hit the spot then, as a writer, I am already well-disposed towards the rest of the story. The story already feels good, and if I'm feeling good about it, then the odds are it's going to flow more naturally and read more naturally from then on.

A troublesome start, an idea that doesn't quite fall right, a character who feels clumsy from the outset, will put me in a frustrated mood, tense, and that will come through in the writing. It can be edited of course, and by the end I might have a better feel for the characters and the story and rewriting the opening might be easy, but I have to work harder to get into the story and bring that character to life. And just as when I'm reading a story, if I'm struggling to enjoy something I'm writing, I may not even get to the end.

As a reader, and as a writer, I enjoy a good opening. Both in reading and in writing one. Sometimes they come easily, and sometimes they can be elusive, troublesome bastards. But never, ever underestimate their importance.