I never realized how important first lines were until I started writing them.

Do a Google search on “why first lines matter” and you’ll get multiple results saying that a great first line sets the tone for the rest of the book.

That’s a lot of pressure to put on a few little words (The irony is not lost on me that the first line of a Google search is also just as important. Man, first lines have it rough).

I like to think of an opening sentence as the official greeter of a book. You, the reader, are being welcomed into a completely new world, and you must make the decision to accept or decline the invitation based only on a few words. Author Allegra Hyde puts it another way, calling it “love at first sentence.”  (Hyde, Allegra. “What Makes a Great First Line?” Literary Hub. March 9. 2022. https://lithub.com/what-makes-a-great-opening-line/)

Another Google search for “great opening lines” offers lists as varied and eclectic as the shelves of readers. Here are a few that I saw mentioned repeatedly:

“The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.”
Stephen King, The Dark Tower

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.”
Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca

I’ve read Rebecca, but not the others, and yet (setting pop-culture osmosis aside) I can tell what type of book I’m getting by just this quick glimpse of story.  

It’s a daunting act to follow.

In my very first draft of my debut Women’s Fiction novel, Something Better, my opening line was: “The cafeteria smelled exactly the same.”

Then for awhile it was:
“Setting: a small, gray bungalow on a quiet street in the suburbs of Charlotte, North Carolina.”

Which finally became:
“The invitation was royal blue cardstock with a white vellum overlay fastened by a small white bow.”

I struggled with where to start my story of a middle-aged woman at a crossroads: Should I begin with the reunion or set the stage at home? After six drafts and discussion with lots of patient friends, I decided it was best to begin with the reader watching over Corinne’s shoulder as she receives her summons.

For my current manuscript, Welcome to Blooms, the first line has remained the same through each draft:

“Smother calling.”

These were the first two words that came to me as I envisioned what circumstances would drive an ambitious young woman to leave her close-knit, chaotic family in order to pursue her career. As I begin to query agents, I hope they are enough to hook an agent’s interest (or, more likely, their assistant’s interest) and convince them to request the rest of my manuscript. And that they feel that the ending does the beginning justice.

In TV, great pilots are what sells a series. Even then, there are often noticeable differences between the pilot and the subsequent episodes (for example, Brenda and Brandon Walsh apparently move houses immediately after relocating to Beverly Hills, 90210).

With a book, you don’t know until the end if you’ve got the right beginning. Only then can you go back and evaluate: Did the greeter keep its initial promise or were you lured in under false pretenses? Who among us hasn’t been hooked by a great opener, only to find ourselves lost or frustrated when a book fails to fulfill its own setup?

We’ve always been warned not to judge a book by its cover; perhaps the cliche should be expanded. “Never judge a book by its cover; that’s what first lines are for.”

What’s your favorite opening line? Drop me a note and let me know.