I’ve written at least three new first chapters of three separate books this month, so I thought I would talk about beginnings.
They’re one of the hardest things for me – aside from endings, and, of course, titles. Once I get into a story, to the action, I’m generally fine – it’s much easier for me to write once I’m past the fluffy beginning – but there’s the matter of opening the story, and unfortunately, it can’t be done away with. There needs to be a solid beginning: Something that will hook the reader and introduce your characters.
I learned the hard way with The Michael Mackin Project (pause: I feel strange italicizing it! It feels so professional) that your beginning HAS to be gripping. Otherwise, people will click away, will put your book down and never look back. Even if I feel like my book gets stronger as it goes on, the prologue tended to keep people from reading. When you’re posting on inkpop, people are only going to read the first chapter or two of a book – you have such a small amount of space to prove yourself and your ability.
The original prologue of TMMP, which was written in November 2008, was not very good. It was horribly rushed, overly-wordy, and didn’t make a lot of sense. Characterization ran unchecked and unguarded. The death scene was nowhere near the level of punch it needed to be. Of course, it was the result of a bag of Halloween candy and several pints of caffiene unloaded directly into my veins (thank you, NaNoWriMo), but that was no excuse.
When I rewrote, I slowed down the pace, gave my characters better introductions, and added to the death scene. There was still the matter of introducing six characters at once, but I felt like I’d done well with it. I needed to show how normal the kids were in order to make Michael’s death stand out. I needed to show the immediate reactions of Asher and Miranda to show what would happen next. The prologue was over eleven pages long at this point; it was longer than most of my other chapters.
Eventually, I ended up cutting large sections of the prologue, cutting it from eleven pages to around two pages. I lost things that I really loved – showing Michael’s interactions with each of The Five before his death, the line that inspired the book, and a lot of context – but the prologue is stronger the way it is now.
There’s still a lot of work to be done with it (namely, fixing the rest of the chapters to give the back-story that is now nonexistent to new readers), but I’ve learned something with this. Sometimes, you have to sacrifice scenes, or words, or characters that you love in order to strengthen your work.
I’ve gotten off on a bit of a tangent here, but my point is this: Sometimes it really sucks to write the beginning of a story. For me, it’s one of the most stress-inducing things in the world. (Ask Petra: I freaked out about TMMP for weeks.) But it’s important to find that perfect beginning; to find a way to keep your reader reeled in from the moment they open the page.
Am I there yet? God no. But I’m working on it.
