Monday, December 12, 2011

First Lines: A Giveaway

Sometimes, a book comes into a person's life at the exact right moment.

They were young, educated, and both virgins on this, their wedding night, and they lived in a time when a conversation about sexual difficulties was plainly impossible. But it is never easy.

These are the first two sentences of Ian McEwan's on Chesil Beach, and I knew the second I read them that they had saved my life. I went on to read the whole book, of course, and it was wonderful, just exquisitely written, and yet, for me, at that moment in my life, the first two sentences would have been enough.

This was about three years ago. I was working on Goliath, which insisted, from the start, on an omniscient point of view. This book, my book was scaring the life out of me. I mean, who did I think I was, writing omniscience?
 
Which is why, on this afternoon, in the world's tiniest public library, Ian McEwan saved me.
 
I like these lines for what they do with distance, how they define certain parameters of the novel. I also like the first line, in a way, for its clunkiness--it seems to sort of stair-step down on the story. To me, it's a bit like the first line of Anna Karenina, and I like that it almost is fairy-tale-like, once-upon-a-time, again, the parameters, the spiraling into the story. 

I love how the two opening sentences work together. The variance in structure, in rhythm, for one, but also because of, again, what it does with distance. I like that the first sentence is almost formal-sounding, dryly historical in a way, and the second is so much chummier, drawing the reader in.

I like the motion of holding the reader at a pretty sizable distance, and then drawing him in.

Most specifically to the technical issues I was dealing with in my own work, I love them now for how they give the writer such elasticity when it comes to psychic distance and point of view later in the novel. In these two sentences, he's established the rules of this story: he can draw way back, and he can swoop in, very close.

First lines establish setting. They set up expectations. They launch voice. They give us the rules by which to read a story.

At other times, other opening lives have saved my life. Aimee Bender has done this. So has Richard Yates. And Charles Baxter. Elizabeth Strout.

Tell me: who has saved your life? Give me the author, the book, the line or lines, and I'll put your name in a drawing to receive a signed copy of my novel, Goliath, when it comes out in April.

Any takers? You have until midnight next Tuesday, December 20...

12 comments:

Becca D said...

Well, if I said, "this post saved my life", does that count?! I've been following your blog for sometime, but this is my first comment--hi! I am a new writer, but have a novel I'm just beginning to write, and the POV decision has been plaguing me. I love the omniscient voice for that fairy-tale feel, like you said. I feel like it would help provide the atmosphere I'm wanting in my story--but it feels overwhelming to pull off. Honestly, any POV feels overwhelming at this point, but especially omniscience! After reading your post just now, I know I have to go for it. Thank you. I would love to read Goliath. So just to be official in the contest, I will give you these two lines from Annie Dillard's "The Living". "Since that day, over two months ago, he had not felt fear. He could not bear to, so he had looked steadily past it until it left."

Thanks again!
Becca Day

Susan Woodring said...

Becca, so glad you commented! Very happy to "meet" you, and I'm so glad you've found my post helpful. Good luck to you with your novel! Please do check back in and let me know how it's going.

Stefanie said...

What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. The Beatles. And me.

Well, these are a few more than two, Susan, but "Love Story" drew me in with them. Youth and death in the first sentence?! How could one not continue reading? I didn't--and for a while this book was read every year. The tears started almost immediately with the first page. Yeah, even though I knew how it would end, I'd read it over and over and over. Hmn. Excuse me. I think I may go pick up my dog-eared copy now and have a good cry.

Britt Kaufmann said...

Of all things, it is tucked in a second appendix on the creation of the Orange Catholic Bible.

Frank Herbert "Dune" 1965

"Every faith with more than a million followers was represented, and they reached a surprisingly immediate agreement on the statement of their common goal: 'We are here to remove a primary weapon from the hands of disputant religions. That weapon -- the claim to possession of the one and only revelation.'"

This is what I love about sci-fi. All things are possible. Wouldn't it be nice if we were already there?

Celisa Steele said...

These are the opening lines from John Ciardi's poem "In Place of a Curse":

At the next vacancy for God, if I am elected,
I shall forgive last the delicately wounded who,
having been slugged no harder than anyone else,
never got up again, neither to fight back,
nor to finger their jaws in painful admiration.

I love the hubris of that first line--the poet as God--and all its imagined possibility--omnipotent ruler as public officer--balanced with the humility (even if affected) of "if I am elected." That poem taught (and still teaches) me a lot about humor and how perfectly it can complement arguably more complex emotions and thoughts.

Anonymous said...

From "Cure for the Common Life" by Max Lucado:
"You are Heaven's Halley's comet; we have one shot at seeing you shine. You offer a gift to society that no one else brings. If you don't bring it, it won't be brought."

I am a avid reader of all kinds of literature - especially fiction. But, as far as truly changing/saving my life, I have to credit the Bible and author Max Lucado. Lucado has a way of painting an amazingly detailed and all encompassing view of everyday life as a Christian, with true empathy and a sense of wonder.
Love you blog Susan!
Heather Turpin :)

Susan Woodring said...

Stefanie, I have to agree, that's a very intriguing way to start the book. And though it's been a few years, I really enjoyed Love Story, though the movie annoyed me to no end.

Susan Woodring said...

Celisa, wow, such powerful lines. As you said, gorgeous, skillful humor balanced against some rather heady things, but also, just plainly gorgeous. Thank you for this.

Susan Woodring said...

Heather, love this from Max Lucado. Love it, love it. So true.

And, I suppose that when it comes to what has really saved my life, those lines would come from the Bible.

Here, a few that fit the season:

"But the angel said to [the shepherds], 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.'" Luke 2:10-11

Susan Woodring said...

Britt, I agree that you can find the best stuff sometimes in the most unlikely places.

While I certainly agree that it would be wonderful if people of all religions and philosophical leanings could really respect, even admire other viewpoints, I think religion is about believing you have found the one and only way. Otherwise, I'm not sure I understand what the point of religion is?

In any case, I'm a huge Britt Kaufmann fan. Thanks for reading and thanks for commenting.

Beth Swann said...

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

And so I fell in love with all things Harry Potter and rekindled my dream to write YA fiction. (Note it's omniscient. Such voice!)

Susan Woodring said...

Beth! Somehow, I'm just now seeing this. I agree, Harry Potter is brilliant--especially the voice--and this is a stellar first line. Thank you so much for posting!!