First Word
by Bridget Ng
The opening of a piece of fiction is an invitation to a new world: the beckoning of a door, the sweep of a threshold, or the iron-wrought gleam of an unshuttered window. From the very first word, you can draw the reader into a different time and place. Most often, it is this first word that we become stuck on; it is the prey of writer’s block, heavy with the doubt of beginning.
So how do you create the best possible opening?
In The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Douglas Adams starts with, “The story so far: in the beginning, the universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.” Immediately, we learn several important things about this book: that it is a work of science fiction and that it contains a wry sense of humour. Immediately, we are intrigued: what comes next? Not only does the opening begin with dramatic action - the birth of the universe, no less! - but it also exemplifies the satirical, conversational tone of the book.
Or take Sylvia Plath’s opening of The Bell Jar: “It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they executed the Rosenbergs, and I didn’t know what I was doing in New York.” This singular sentence reveals setting and period, as well as the distinctively insular voice of its protagonist. Like Adams’ opening, it establishes the novel’s atmosphere and point of view right from its conception. It also introduces conflict: individual indecision contrasted with the morbid finality of an execution. In this way, Plath evokes curiosity in the reader’s mind: how will such tension be resolved?
While most opening sentences are just that – sentences – the aim should be to create questions. In 1984, George Orwell writes, “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.” Instantly, we feel a sense of intrigue. How can clocks strike thirteen? When posing such questions, it is ideal to present the reader with something new, surprising or challenging: to begin in the middle of the story, as it were, rather than from excessive exposition or bland actions.
From these examples, it is evident that a good opening should be a microcosm of the whole work: perspective, tone and some hint of plot or direction. Some writers add to this with characterisation, such as Dodie Smith in I Capture the Castle: “I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.” This line evokes creativity, quirkiness and a sense of unconventionality. By highlighting a unique detail about a character, it opens the reader up to their worldview, prompting intrigue about other aspects of their personality and actions.
Ultimately, a good opening contains two critical elements: just enough information to ground the piece and just not enough to keep the reader guessing. The point is always to compel your audience to keep turning the page – to dive into the second word, and the third, and all those that follow.
