I once caught a book contract that was THIS big… but it got away.

The Westside Schmooze topic this month is all about beginnings and hooks. To be exact:

“Are You Hooked Yet?
How can you use your first pages, first lines, and queries to hook readers and editors? Join us as we try to define the seemingly indefinable something that glues readers to the page. Learn from other schmoozer’s openings and share your own.”

Opening hooks are very tricky. You gotta show a little leg, but not look like a tease. It all has to look accidental, discrete. Flutter your eyelashes, but don’t wink. There’s a reason that I used the phrase ‘indefinable something.’ How do you grab the readers attention without showing off or misleading them? How do you make your beginning exciting without giving too much away? How do you make the reader ask, “Why?” and keep on reading to find out the answer.

Yeah. How? I don’t know. But I know people do it. So, even though I know you’d love to hear me wax poetic about something I don’t really have the answer to, it might be a bit more insightful to actually look at some beginnings instead.

“She scowled at her glass of orange juice.” What do we know from that one sentence? Our character’s female. She’s upset. She’s probably having breakfast. It gives us mood and a setting. It’s active. As a reader, I’m not wowed, but I’m willing to sit down at the breakfast table with her and find out why she’s scowling. (The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley.)

“When Hayley arrived at the big house in Ireland, bewildered and in disgrace, rain was falling and it was nearly dark.” This sentence paints a distinct picture. I imagine Haley standing in an immense, cold, dark stone entryway dripping water from her clothes and looking scared. I may not be right about those things, but I’m already empathizing with the character and feeling a little chilly. In one sentence, we are given who, what, when, and where. And it leaves us asking Why? Which is the most important question you want your readers to be asking. ‘Why’ is what moves the reader forward. The tone is also more passive than the ‘orange juice’ beginning. Hayley seems to be acted upon, by the house, the rain, her disgrace, instead of acting herself. (The Game by Diana Wynne Jones.)

“It wasn’t much, really, the whole Jessica Feeney thing.” This opening sentence tells us there’s been an incident, maybe a something unpleasant. But more importantly, it immediately alerts the reader that the narrator is biased, that he or she isn’t telling us the whole story. This is vital information for the reader. Now we can take the narrator’s words with a grain of salt and draw our own conclusions. Like any good opening, this makes you ask why. Not about the ‘Jessica Feeney thing’, but why is the narrator lying about it. (Firegirl by Tony Abbott.)

As you can see, there isn’t just one approach to hooking the reader. People who do it well are able, in that one sentence, to set the tone for their whole story. They’re able to ground you in the landscape and character, so you get a sense of the trip you’re about to take. And, above all, they make you want to know why.

Happy fishing.

“All children, except one, grow up.”

Posted in Books, Hooks, SCBWI, Writing

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