Post Your Opening Paragraph

[Steerpike]

I thought this might be a fun, ongoing thread. Take the opening paragraph from one of your works, be it a novel or short story, and post it in this thread. The person who posts after you will comment on your paragraph, and then post one of theirs.

Comments should be along the lines of:

1. Did you like the opening.
2. Would you continue to read beyond it?
3. Why or why not.

Comments can be as brief or lengthy as you like, so long as they hit on those three points. If you want to comment on other opening paragraphs earlier in the thread, that's fine, but you have to at least comment on the one immediately preceding your own post.

Any takers?

 

[Steerpike]

To start us off:

The man who promised Imke justice or death arrived half an hour late, a baguette tucked under one arm. His silver beard stood out against his charcoal-gray wool coat. He gave Imke an apologetic smile, removed his cap, and sat, eyes watery behind his spectacles.

 

[psychotick]

Hi,

Steerpike I liked the description, and the way the idea of justice and death contrasts with his fairly harmless appearance, at least in my thoughts. But should it be "The man who had promised -"? I would though read the next paragraph or two to find out more.

"Elwene knelt in quiet prayer at the Altar of Rose Fury. Supposedly she was trying to feel the spiritual power of the Mother upon the spot, but mostly she was simply enjoying the warmth of the spring day and the sweet aroma of the flowers. Maybe they were the same thing."

Cheers, Greg.

 

[saellys]

Great thread! I love that opening, and I want to know who Imke is and why she(?) wants death or justice (or does she?) and what the silver bearded man is going to do about it, after he finishes his baguette, of course. In short, yes, I would absolutely read more.

Here's mine:

One golden ray through his window was all Haelon Korvald would see of the sun that morning. Leaden clouds hung a finger’s width above the horizon, and gauzy curtains obscured the mountains. Haelon blew a sigh at the impending rain as he blinked himself awake. This would complicate his travel plans.

EDIT: Whoops, ninja'd! Greg, I love the equation of supernatural and natural power. I'd read more.

 

[Ireth]

I like the description in yours, saellys, and I'm interested to know where Haelon is going to travel. I'd read on.

Lóegaire crept through the dark halls of Caisleán Cuileann, his soft leather boots silent on the floor. He wore black, kept his fair hair under a hood, and had woven a Glamour around himself to hide, but still kept to the emptiest halls for his safety. He blessed the thousand years that had made him so familiar with the castle. The dungeons were near; he would reach them with ease.

 

[Ankari]

@Steerpike: Clashing such heavy ideas as justice and death with an old man clutching a baguette would draw me in for a chapter or two. I would pick up on the author's sense of humor right away and hope the rest of the book is written in that tone.

@Psychotick: You would have me if you rewrote the second sentence.

""Elwene knelt in quiet prayer at the Altar of Rose Fury. She tried to feel the spiritual power of the Mother upon the spot. Instead, she enjoyed the warmth of the spring day and the sweet aroma of the flowers. Maybe they were the same thing."

The use of the word Supposedly tells me that whatever follows that word isn't true. It sucks the power from the imagery you're trying to build.

@Sallys: Yeah. You got my attention for another page or two. I want to know where Haelon is going. From what you're written, he isn't a hardened warrior and, most likely, not young. So I'm curious to know if my assumptions of Haelon are right.

@Ireth: Yeah, you got me for another page or two. I would want to know why someone so familiar with this castle is creeping around like a thief.

Now mine. This is from a short story that should be near ready for public consumption soon.

From his perch atop a hill outside the village, Aulog stared at the citizens of Dapu, waiting for an answer to materialize. They weren’t supposed to be here. All villagers were called back to the safety of the hollowed mountain chain of Dagor proper. When asked to explain their disobedience, blank faces offered weak excuses and embarrassed apologies.

 

[ThinkerX]

Steerpike: A bit bland, I'm afraid. It's good, buts its mundane. I probably would read a few more paragraphs, though.

Psychotick: Workable, mostly because the character seems to have doubts. Likely, I'd stick with it for a page or so.

Ireth: I like this! A thousand year old guy sneaking INTO a castle dungeon - this has promise.

Ankari: Having read the story in question more than once, I can say...the opening paragraph sets the tone. I like it, but it could probably stand some tweaking.

And now my offering, from the current start of 'Labyrinth':

“Lord Titus Maximus deserves the death of a thousand cuts!” said the thin merchant to the near empty tap room of the Blue Mug.

 

[MadMadys]

I'll just comment on yours or else these posts are going to get massive.

ThinkerX, the 'thousand cut' line made me think of many tiny paper cuts. A cruel torture to be sure but I'm not sure if that's the threat you're going for. Maybe because I enjoy Roman history, and you've got a Maximus right off the bat, I'll probably keep reading. The bit after the quote seems a bit long for the very first line as well.

The smoke choked interior made her lone eye perspire and close. When it did open there was not much to look at; taps, brown planked wall, and years old stains. Skulking over the bar, Deidra rocked back and forth out of habit to keep her head straight. Finger tapped the edge of the glass filled with a sickly brown liquid. Sipping it was not pleasant but it was worth it.

 

[Reaver]

Well MM, may I call you MM? I love the imagery. I felt the tinge of bile rising in the back of my throat when I got to the sickly brown liquid part. Nicely done.

My name is Ultimus Manimus and I am a slave.

To fashion!

I mean, have you seen all the trends I've started? It's not easy being a paragon of war, physical fitness and fashion..all that makes a REAL man a REAL man. What can I say? The men hate me because the women love me.

 

[Darkblade]

If the Ultimus is gay the stereotyping would drive me away really fast. That said my interest is peaked and I would continue to read about the fantastic fashion adventures described within.

Loretta Stopholies blinked as she found herself standing in a dark room with a single light being cast down upon her from somewhere above. She tried to recall how she got here but can draw nothing but blankness from the moment she stepped out of the Wonderful World Toys offices. A glance at her watch confirms that was hours ago.

 

[CupofJoe]

From these few words it is hard to tell if I liked it as an opening. It was engaging; Is WWT an evil corp? Was she drugged or abducted? What is going to happen next to Loretta. So it did get me wondering.
I'd read on for a chapter or two at least. It definitely didn’t turn me off but I guess that Loretta has to get some answers fairly fast and then the adventure starts...
Personally I'd like some description of the room [or even of the darkness in the room] but there again that is what I would have written and not what DarkBlade wanted to write...

It was near dawn and the market was a growing riot of sounds and smells. The mid winter’s eve decorations were still up but he didn’t feel joyous or repentant. He was just hungry. Mackie stood at the corner of the square and huddled out of the sleet. The flames in the torches gutted and spluttered making him jump between shivers. He had stopped feeling the tightening knot in his stomach hours ago but the growing faintness meant that he couldn’t forget that he hadn’t eaten since the day before yesterday.

 

[Xaysai]

CupofJoe,

I think I might have liked to have the weather elements (sleet/cold) bundled into the first sentence where you are setting up the environment so I had it in my mind as you moved into the character and his situation.

I think I also might have like to have the opening paragraph end on something he was planning to do, or something that was about to happen to get me to want to find out what happens. Ending it on the fact that he was hungry doesn't really compel me to keep reading!

I get the feeling that he is an orphan, or maybe even a feral child, but is he going to steal food? Pickpocket passerby's? Is someone going to approach him (maybe with sinister intentions) to offer assistance?

I only have one work so far to offer up an opening paragraph with, so sorry if you've read it:

With increasing frequency I've found myself standing at the intersection of These Things Never Go As Planned and Try Not To Shit Myself While Escaping From People Or Things Which Seek To Kill, Eat or Inhabit Me, and today proved to be no exception.

 

[Ireth]

I adore the humorous voice in that paragraph, and it definitely entices me to read more. Who's the person in trouble, and what sort of plans are going awry?

Vádas lifted his chin from his paws, watching his father pace outside the entrance to the den. The night was half over, and still there was no word about the arrival of the pups Vádas' mother was birthing. The whole pack had grown restless over the past weeks, but Vádas knew his father was the most anxious. The grizzled alpha kept his ears pricked as he paced, glancing into the den every so often, and huffed a sigh through his nose when his mate's aide did not emerge with news, or even call out from within.

 

[Twook00]

Very good opening. I'm assuming these are wolves, right? It has a warm tone and a pleasant hook. I'm sensing middle-grade to young adult. I would keep reading for sure.

Strangeboy Jorrin's face seized. The muscles in his cheeks knotted, jerking his lips taut in a rictus sneer. He hardly noticed anymore. It ached, of course, and breathing the cold air dried his gums and seared his teeth, but that was fine. He liked the pain.

 

[Ireth]

This is straightforward and interesting; I'm curious to know more about Jorrin's seizures. I'm guessing it's Bell's palsy -- I've never seen something like that in a fantasy book before. I'd definitely read on.

Fiachra adjusted his mask one final time, checking that the leather band was secure behind his pointed ears and hidden under his hair. He smiled in satisfaction and pushed open the double doors to the throne room of Caer Celynnen, stepping inside with his head held high.

 

[The Blue Lotus]

Ireth:
I LOVE the descriptions given, however I doubt I'd read much more based on this one bit alone, it just does not give me enough to give me any idea about what type of book this would be. That being said, having read many postings by you BASED on THAT I would read the whole book even if it were not my "Cup of Tea" because I know for sure it will be quality work.


Opening to: The Watchers. First book in The Guardians series.

"Thick blue smoke billowed up from the crackling logs of the small fire, swirling upward to the purple sky, the occasional pop and crack of the burning wood the only sounds that disturbed the utter silence of the glade. Breathing deeply and steadily, Moksha sank deeper into the depths of his mind, focusing on the images that formed. The creation of the world, from its birth to its eventual destruction, raced by, misery washed over Moksha and settled deep within his soul as he watched the visions play out."

 

[Xaysai]

The Blue Lotus:

I think I would like to "see" some of the images leading to Moksha's misery in the opening paragraph to let me know what I'm dealing with, because at this point I don't know : (

Is it war? Are stars being born and/or dying? Is there some evil force plotting to destroy the world? Are things burning?


This is from an opening scene where my main character is assaulting bad guys at an archaeology dig who are trying to unearth an item of great power, and my main character is trying to stop them:

Left hand over the mouth? Check. Edge of index finger pushing up on the base of the nose to keep the head properly elevated? Check. Apply pressure of knife held in right hand and rip from left to right across throat? Also check. Truth be told, I prefer snapping necks to cutting them, only because the latter can be messy and you have to sit there waiting for the victom to die. However, if you don’t get just the right centrifugal force with just the right speed at just the right angle, the neck doesn’t actually break and then don’t you just feel stupid…

 

[The Blue Lotus]

The Blue Lotus:

I think I would like to "see" some of the images leading to Moksha's misery in the opening paragraph to let me know what I'm dealing with, because at this point I don't know : (

Is it war? Are stars being born and/or dying? Is there some evil force plotting to destroy the world? Are things burning?


This is from an opening scene where my main character is assaulting bad guys at an archaeology dig who are trying to unearth an item of great power, and my main character is trying to stop them:

Xaysai, you ask good questions hopefully I have addressed all of them in the next (second) paragraph!
That's the problem with this type of challenge it is just far too limited to give a good scope. BTW Nice opener.

 

[Xaysai]

Xaysai, you ask good questions hopefully I have addressed all of them in the next (second) paragraph!
That's the problem with this type of challenge it is just far too limited to give a good scope. BTW Nice opener.

Well, now I want to start a new thread titled "Post Your Second Paragraph"!

 

[The Blue Lotus]

lol so do it!