Thank Amazon for free Kindle samples…because what a difference an opening chapter makes.
The other day, after finishing Mariette in Ecstasy, I hungered for another good story and so consulted my ever-growing to-read list. There were two books in particular that I was curious about, so I downloaded their opening chapters to compare.
It was a good thing, too. Not only did the right choice become suddenly, garishly clear, but I got a little education on the Dos and Don’ts of novel openers.
For the moment, both books shall remain nameless. One was in the 20%-off section at B&N, where I usually find “literary” work, while the other was in the section of new sci-fi and fantasy. Both books are fantasy by my definition (since they contain fantastical elements), and both are set in a more or less real historical time and place. Both were released within the last few months.
But here’s the difference I found:
Book #1
I was pretty excited about starting this book. The setting is fresh (alternate-history Portugal), and the particular magical element of this book isn’t something you see every day in the fantasy genre.
I started reading this one first, since it seemed to sit more squarely in the fantasy genre (and I was itching for some good fantasy that was written by someone other than George R. R. Martin!). The first thing I noticed was that the characters were preparing for something mildly interesting that was about to happen, yet nothing was actually happening. I mean, really nothing. The main character, working as a maid, was packing underthings for her mistress/friend and thinking about her life and her friend’s life and the history of this alternate Portugal. And then she went to her cold room and went on thinking (and moping) there.
Did someone say “vehicle”?
Granted, some pretty exciting stuff happens after all that, and it WAS interesting to read all that imaginative worldbuilding, but I was still annoyed that I was hearing more of the author’s need to give me backstory than the real thoughts and needs of the character.
Book #2
I was probably even more excited to read this book, though I was nervous it would end up being pretentious, like too many books that literary critics find laudable. I was excited because it draws on Chinese folklore — and I love pretty much anything involving folklore, as well as things set in China or involving the Chinese diaspora. (Helloooo Amy Tan!) Perhaps, if you frequent chain bookstores, you already know which novel I’m referring to.
This one started immediately with plot-relevant tension. I mean, not quite Indiana Jones fleeing a rolling rock bigger than a Zorb ball, but the narration of an inherently interesting event that would have impact on the rest of the novel. The main character was talking (not fighting or screaming) with her father, but the topic of their conversation was — again — inherently interesting and clearly relevant to the plot as described on the dust jacket.
There was no running or screaming or kidnapping or drugging or knifing, at least not that I can recall. People were talking, remembering, dreaming, wondering. Backstory was introduced and seeds were sown for later story developments. Yet I only noticed all of this insofar as I was looking for it — the backstory had taken a backseat to the real story, which was engaging and already laced with mystery. We’d get some personal history and setting details, but they would come in naturally, and they wouldn’t linger. A little beautifully-described exposition mixed into the plot like milk into coffee. Or like eggs into cake batter — something to hold it together, but not so much to make it runny.
Can you guess which one I ended up purchasing?
I might read the first one at some point, since I still think it could be a good story, first impressions aside. But for now I’m reading Yangsze Choo’s The Ghost Bride (oops, gave it away) and praying I can open my novels as seamlessly as she did.
**EDIT
Agents agree: http://thewritelife.com/the-worst-ways-to-begin-your-novel-advice-from-literary-agents/
