On Beginnings

We takin' a break from the elements today. They're startin' to go all prima donna on me.

On the topic of writing, the most common question is probably "where do we start?" In my explorations, I've come to the conclusion that the answer isn't often "at the beginning." The first page of a novel has become an industry; seriously, there are services devoted wholly to critiquing only the first page.

We all know the internet feeds our collective attention deficit disorder. There's a whole lot of free entertainment out there, so if you want people to see your stuff (and especially if you want them to pay for the privilege), you need to have something exceptional from the beginning. They have plenty other places to turn, so you've gotta give them a good reason not to.

We all love Tolkien, but the Hobbit never would have been published in this age. It fails every 'first page test' ever devised. How can that be, when he's the flagbearer for the entire fantasy genre? Well, as impressed as we all are with the inventor of the wheel, it's hard to claim he perfected the thing.

Progress is a pain. A day in the life of a halfling was plenty-entertaining when there weren't any alternatives, but as that saying in Stephen King's Gunslinger goes, "The world has moved on." We can't really ease into the climax anymore, can't start anywhere near mundane. We've come to the point where we can assume the audience knows how to swim, and therefore, they prefer to enter the pool at the deep end. Things need to be different, dangerous, and intriguing right from the start.

This is why I say you don't start at the beginning, and this is where I need your help! I need the stories to read nothing like my blog, all the technical details need to stay out. We want to break any new ground we can, but we can do that while taking cues from successful people.

Game of Thrones began with a ranging and a White Walker. We didn't know anything about the Wall or the Black Brothers or Winter, but from the way the rangers interacted and cues in their conversation, we knew they were a practiced, capable military force that didn't spook easily. Yet they were spooked. George didn't take long to show us they had a damn good reason to be scared.

The survivor of that encounter was executed for desertion by Ned Stark, Ned Stark takes his boys back to Winterfell, and only then are we introduced to the normalcy of life in Westeros. Martin began with the sort of scene you might expect to find closer to the climax, with danger and intrigue and horror, then eased us into the mundane rituals of a day in Winterfell. Learning the relatively boring details of life in Winterfell and the goings-on of the kingdom and the petty family drama were all much more interesting when we know it's all in danger at the hands of them white prune-zombies. After all, the head of the house just executed the guy who saw them up close and personal, so the threat can't be far away.

Because the Song of Ice and Fire started in the deep end of the pool with the White Walker prologue, the shallow end stays interesting long enough to see us through to Bran's fateful climb up Cersei's tower window, and after that, no amount of tedium is going to keep us from watching Westeros slowly spiral into war.

Game of Thrones isn't even the best example of how to hook people right away, probably not by a long shot. It's just a clean demonstration of how to start anywhere but at the beginning.

Watchmen began with the Comedian getting brutally murdered. We had no real idea who this clown was, but that didn't make it any less interesting. Indeed, if your story contains any element of mystery or intrigue, it probably oughta start with the crime-in-progress or somebody stumbling upon the body. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy begins by destroying the Earth. Mass Effect begins in a troop transport en route to a battlefield, the only exposition to a rather robust universe being given in the mission briefing. Star Wars started with laser fire between a space cruiser and a Star Destroyer. Pulp Fiction begins with philosophical mobsters on their way up to whack some skimmers. Ya hit hard before ya deliver the softer punches.

We can probably get away with more than what we initially believe when it comes to the first scene. It may seem natural to start out peaceful and mundane to help the reader understand, and even as a way to ease into your own story before you know the plot details of what will happen later, but it turns out you probably want to know where you're going before you start. You need enough of an idea of what will happen later in order to open with a desperate situation, one that's relevant to the larger conflict you'll get to later.

Saxton Hale does a wonderful job of explaining why exposition sucks and why you should resort to Explosition! instead. Take a look:

Stick around long enough for Saxton Hale to "fix reading" (it was clearly broken).

So lead me by example, friends. Which franchises grabbed you right from the start? Which stories made you wonder "how'd they come up with this stuff?!" by throwing you into the grinder then sorting it out afterward? Books, comics, TV shows, games, movies... they all start with writers, so they're all relevant. Who employs the best technique when it comes to keeping the audience in their seats until the story ends?