by Patricia Bradley, @PTBradley1
We all struggle with where to start our stories. It’s been said a novel’s opening is the most important thing to nail, and you’ve heard the advice: don’t start too early—the reader has no idea where you’re coming from, don’t bore the reader, don’t confuse the reader.
I struggle with openings in every book I’ve written. I want to “see” the beginning play out like a movie, and often until that happens, I can’t move forward.
I could talk all day about what’s needed for a first page, but I thought I’d show you the original opening of my first book, Shadows of the Past, and then the actual opening:
Prologue
“Daddy! Where are you? Don’t leave yet!” Kelly’s black patent-leather shoes clattered as she raced up and down the hallway of the old house, opening doors and calling for her father. Room after room was empty, and she began to cry. Where was her father? Had he already left? Nooo! He couldn’t be gone. She didn’t tell him good-bye, yet.
Kelly stopped in front of the basement door. An inner voice whispered a warning. “You’re not supposed to go down there.” The glass doorknob sparkled like an oversized diamond and she touched it; the voice whispered in her ear again. “Good girls do what they’re told.”
Her hand faltered, and then stubbornly she twisted the knob. The door creaked open, and the stairway yawned like a pitch-black hole. “Daddy?”
“Stay out of the basement.” It was a command this time; but something in the basement drew her. She gripped the handrail and crept down the steps. “Are you down there, Daddy?”
Suddenly, the darkness exploded into light, and she was at the foot of the basement steps. In the middle of the basement a clown danced like a puppet on a string. She shrank back against the wall as he came closer, leering and twisting, his hands reaching toward her.
Kelly Martin bolted upright in bed, choking on the scream trapped in her throat. With arms like lead, she grabbed a pillow, and hugged it to her chest. “No, not again,” she whimpered as she rocked back and forth until the effects of the nightmare passed.
Gradually, her heart rate slowed and she was able to breathe normally again. When the heaviness left her arms and legs, she padded to the living room and climbed up into the bay window. Moonlight streamed through the window, bathing her in its pale glow. Still shaky, she drew in a deep breath and then sighed. The nightmares were back, but why? And why now after almost twenty years?
This has the who, what, where, and why, but does it really tell you much about the story to come? No, it’s a dream! I can’t believe I did that. While the writing isn’t all that bad, it isn’t book opening material. (I actually used some of it near the end of the book, but in real-time, not as a dream.)
So here’s how the book actually opened when it was published:
Death unfolds like a budding flower,
Tentatively, sweetly.
Unfurling in majestic power.
Until then, my love…until then.
Black roses last week, now spidery words scrawled on a scrap of paper with Meade Funeral Home printed across the top. Someone was stalking her, and they wanted her to know it.
Taylor Martin sucked in a sharp breath and tried to ignore the icy shiver traversing her body.
He was here.
Hair raised on the back of her neck. She turned in a circle. Heavy clouds hung low, shrouding the tall firs with their mist. An air ambulance waited in the clearing to lift off for Seattle as soon as Beth Coleman’s vitals stabilized. Only a few members of the search and rescue team remained at the crime scene, packing their gear.
Whether he was one of the men who came out to comb the woods for the kidnapper and his victims, or he’d simply followed her here to this remote area southwest of Seattle, it didn’t matter. It mattered that he’d been close enough to touch her, to put the note in her pocket.
To kill her.
***
The opening that was published tied the opening to the heroine’s goal for the story—that of finding a kidnapper. The first opening (that wasn’t published) was all backstory. So, whatever opening you choose, it has to tie to the rest of the book. It can’t be just pretty words.
Standoff (Natchez Trace Park Rangers Book #1)
The Natchez Trace National Parkway stretches 444 miles from Nashville to Natchez, the oldest town on the Mississippi River. It’s the perfect road for a relaxed pleasure drive. Unfortunately for park ranger Luke Fereday, lately it’s being used to move drugs. Sent to Natchez to infiltrate the organization at the center of the drug ring, Luke arrives too late to a stakeout and discovers the body of his friend, park ranger John Danvers.
John’s daughter Brooke is determined to investigate her father’s murder, but things are more complicated than they first appear, and Brooke soon finds herself the target of a killer who will do anything to silence her. Luke will have his hands full keeping her safe. But who’s going to keep him safe when he realizes he’s falling–hard–for the daughter of the man he failed to save?
Winner of an Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award in Suspense and a 2018 Carol finalist, Patricia Bradley lives in North Mississippi with her rescue kitty, Suzy. Her romantic suspense books include the Logan Point series and the Memphis Cold Case Novels. She also has written sweet romances for Harlequin Heartwarming available as e-books.