About First Words

Post 544:

            First words aren’t all that important in life. Better stated, it’s important that they happen, but the exact contents aren’t all that big a deal. They’re usually comprised of a stilted, broken attempt at daddy or dog or shoe or mom. Everyone doing the hearing is pumped, even though it’s not symphonic.  

            It’s the event itself that’s compelling. The rawness. The effort. The promise of all sorts of better words, sometime in the future, with decidedly less drool.

            I was thinking about the opening words to a book I was working on the other day. I like to come correct. It’s important to hook the audience quick, especially in these times of impatience. At least give them a taste of what’s to come. I long for the days of the slow rollout, but alas, those days are dust.

            A good intro can be accomplished by stating some facts. It was this time and this was happening always helps. Or it can be a beautiful flourish of language, letting the reader know that they’re in for a masterwork of wordsmithing. I like the opening that hints at the theme. A theme is a big thing, so it’s not easy to get it all encapsulated in a line or two, but… it’s possible.    

            For example: 1984 is one of my favorites. “It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen.”

            So blah blah blah with the cold April thing, but the clocks (plural) are striking thirteen. Obviously, clocks don’t do this. It’s an old expression signifying something is amiss. Things aren’t to be trusted. And this implies a great deal. Perhaps all the clocks are off. Something’s wrong here, and not just with one clock or one situation. A rather ingenious way of plunging us into a story of societal and governmental madness plus wholesale totalitarianism. Thirteen’s also an unlucky number, but I don’t think that’s the main point.

            Though it’s awesome to have a sweet opener, it’s probably not wise to get too hung up. In the end, there’s the rest of the damn book. “Call me Ishmael” wouldn’t be so amazing if it was followed by a big pile of garbage. Homeboy needed a whale and the whole obsession thing to follow. Lots more words. Have you read that thing?

            Last lines are important as well, but not as key. It’s the getting them to the end that’s the trick. Besides, endings stink. It’s in their nature. I’ve blogged about this at length and maybe I’ll get back into it. Not today, however.

            Good luck. Be brilliant from the first, but don’t forget all the other parts. If you come up with the opening goods, make the rest of your work worthy of the brilliance. Get after it. Cheers and see you after.