First Lines

[JamesW he/him]

Well I figure I'll throw mine up, since I actually have one that I liked.

Dinriel stood before the armored Sentinel practicing a magic punishable by death and trying to lie his way out of spending the night in the a prison cell.

Edited February 3, 2013 by JamesW

[Observer]

August sat in a metal cage with his hands tied behind his back. He smiled as the sun rose in front of him illuminating what he considered, was going to be a beautiful day in the wasteland.

Huh, not too bad I suppose. Sitting in a cage isn't a very active scene though, and all the words feel kind of passive. I guess what I'm trying to say is that the opening conveyes no sense that something interesting will soon happen, until the end of the second sentence. Even then, it's still passive about it.

 

Dinriel stood before the armored Sentinel practicing a magic punishable by death and trying to lie his way out of spending the night in the a prison cell.

While I like the idea, the sentence doesn't feel like it was put together very well. It just doesn't flow. Either edit it or split it into two lines, and you'll have a pretty good opening.

Edited April 14, 2014 by Observer

[Appreauntis]

Here is a first line:

 

Doom had been broken, the last vestiges of its power nulled by the sacrifices of thousands.

 

And the rest of the paragraph and a half:

 

Doom had been broken, the last vestiges of its power nulled by the sacrifices of thousands. The Old World collapsed in upon itself, burying the injustice wrought there beneath miles of earth, and confined forever to echo the anguish of forgotten souls. Many died in the cataclysmic events that transpired. A group of survivors less than 300 escaped on what ragged sea-craft they could find, and braved the inconceivable oceans of the unknown. Less than 150 survived the voyage, though only through miraculous luck. As they spotted a new land and made all haste towards it, their ships were torn apart by hidden rocks, and they themselves fell to the deeps.

           

When the survivors opened their eyes they found themselves, not dead, but alive, and found they had washed up in a new land. They decided that in this New World they would make their future and security so that forevermore they could be free from the dominion of others.

 

And here is just plain and utter nonsense:

 

Crazy brains flip around while monkeys swing from red vines singing halleluiah then the death star comes and blows up the whole planet making han solo cry because his mommy lived there but then chewbacca reveals that he is hans fathers freaking out darth vader so much that darth vader starts to dance and orders the stormtroopers to play laser tag with their guns on stun mode.

 

What do you think?

[Gamma Fiend he/him]

Here's a first line I have worked out for a non-fantasy story I've been thinking about:
"Chivalry hated his name"  (And yes, that means the character's name is 'Chivalry')

And then here's a character introduction sentence in my fantasy story:
"So this is what it feels like to have everything. Korvus Zakhar smiled to himself while looking out his office window. From this high up on the top floor of the newly built sky-reacher, he could see the entire city.

[Scriptorian he/him]

Everyone who reads this seems to find it immensely enjoyable for some reason.

 

"'There goes the kingdom on the back of a horse.'"

 

Another line from a more recent project,

 

"Flame burned within him, like a searing coal inside his rib-cage. He kept it burning low, he couldn't risk attracting attention. Not yet."

 

Any thoughts or critiques would be stupendous!

[Rime]

I actually have three I wouldn't mind having critiqued 

 

First line: The sky screamed by as I tumbled down an endless abyss.

First Paragraph:  The sky screamed by as I tumbled down an endless abyss. Shadows ripped and shredded about me, scathing whips that shredded my skin. I couldn't think, couldn't remember, I could only feel as I fell. My thoughts… memories…  I couldn't hold on. My mind was like a plain blasted barren by the squall of an unearthly storm. Then the ground decided to say hello.

 

First Line:  The winds howled in the night, screaming down from the mountain heights, scoring the High March.

First Paragraph: The winds howled in the night, screaming down from the mountain heights, scoring the High March. The frigid blasts of air tumbled through tree and thicket, as if determined to find something lost and gone. Snow whipped up into the air, blown by the gusts into ghosts of swirling flakes that stalked the land. Rime crept and crawled across rocks, moisture from the air hardening into a thin film of frost. A river roared, a struggling serpent of white foam that fought its way down hill as its banks choked with ice. Erillion gasped for breath, heaving his body from the water and crawling onto the icy bank. He had been in the water for what felt like an eternity, and the sun was setting behind the mountains to the west. His sodden leather and hide armor felt like a tomb. He collapsed, arms no longer able to hold his weight. I should be dead… Why am I not dead?

 

First Line: A four fingered hand darted forward, leaving an empty air freshener cartridge alone on the center of the table.

First Paragraph: A four fingered hand darted forward, leaving an empty air freshener cartridge alone on the center of the table. It was sticky, plastic, and now smelled of burnt hair.  From around the table, three sets of six black beady eyes narrowed, staring intently at the 

hand’s owner. Booji blinked pleasantly, retracted his hand, and resumed staring blankly at his own cards.

[Rime]

If it wasn't for that last line, I'd generally really like this opening. I might replace "some bacon" with something more definitive, like "a strip of beacon," "a side of bacon," or "a gingerbread house made entirely of bacon," but that is mostly just getting things done in the revision process, tightening it up. A crab eating bacon is an unusual image, so it draws us in. Its thoughts are decent: we might not think that a crab can think, but if it could, these feel like crab-y thoughts. The "roger roger" is a bit weird (what is a roger roger?), but hopefully that is something to be explained soon.

However, if the crab has no purpose in the story, then its perspective is a trick. Mistborn starts off with the perspective of a minor villain. It serves to introduce us to the nobility and the world. But the crab's perspective seems to serve only to give us an interesting first few lines, so when the perspective (presumably) switches, it feels like a cheat.

 

I have to respectfully disagree with that assessment. I laughed out loud when I read it, and it reminded me strongly of the Alcatraz books. Anything that reminds me of Alcatraz can't be half bad. As long as the tone stays like this, I'd definitely keep reading.

[Guest Alaxel]

No one has posted in here for some time, so my feelings won't be hurt if this gets ignored, but...

"Not for the first time that day, Veryk knew, deep in his heart, that he was going to die."

I'd absolutely love to hear someone's thoughts on that one line, with no other context, to see how closely your impressions matched my intentions.

[JustSarah]

And yes, the story starts in modern day.

 

First line:   Nadine worked at the mini-mart, and in the distance outside the store she heard a voice in the ocean-scape in the dream-net. Distant voice fading, from her day dream.

 

First paragraph:   Nadine worked at the mini-mart, and in the distance outside the store she heard a voice in the ocean-scape in the dream-net. Distant voice fading, from her day dream.

  --- Morning sky, sprinkled with rain.

  The old hero was on the table, the executioner caressing his belly, and makes him find out the real meaning of losing his poop. His vision, of vengeful sheep in the crowd faded into darkness, as he himself faded from the matrix ... ---

 

Alaxel: I forgot to add my own comments, I personally find it interesting that it leaves that lingering question for me as a reader. I would personally keep reading just to find out what comes of it.

Edited October 9, 2013 by JustSarah

[Dysphoric Kitten she/her]

I have to respectfully disagree with that assessment. I laughed out loud when I read it, and it reminded me strongly of the Alcatraz books. iAnything that reminds me of Alcatraz can't be half bad. As long as the tone stays like this, I'd definitely keep reading.

 

Felt to me like the Vogons and Adams' habit to add laregly irrelevant parts to a story.

 

 

I have lines I might share soon. However, I cannot send first paragraphs in fear of giving a whole story away. I might give the opening (I wrote those in a fashion that slides the focus around, I'll give it just up to where it shifts)

Edited October 9, 2013 by Tal Spektor

[Guest Alaxel]

JustSarah: As far as your first line goes, it's got some good and some bad. I like the ocean-scape and the dream-net. I have no idea what those things are, but that's what I like about it. It makes me want to continue reading to find out. I don't like how Nadine has no particular reaction to hearing a fading voice in the distance. If Nadine doesn't react to it, then I have no idea how I am supposed to react to it. For example, if you said, "Nadine froze as she heard a voice..." then I would know that it was an irregular and noteworthy event. If you said, "Nadine wept as she heard a voice..." then I would be concerned because, for whatever reason, hearing a voice fading in the dream-net is causing her sadness. So you get points for introducing things like this dream-net that interest me, but lose points because until Nadine has a reaction to hearing something, I don't know how to feel about. One more example, "Nadine smiled to herself as she heard..." might suggest she just heard something she was anticipating and was pleased to hear it.

As for your first paragraph, it needs a small amount of work on the grammar, but that's for the revision process so it's not a really big deal until then. I would be careful using the word poop. I think it has too much if a childish connotation to work where you're using it. If, in your head, you thought, "...lose his rust." then write that. It feels like you took a vulgar sentence that fit really well and replaced it with a PG sentence that seems a little out of place. Toddlers poop their pants and puppies poop on the floor, but old heroes who are about to be tortured and executed...they rust themselves.

I hope that helps! And thank you for taking the time to respond to my first line.

[Glaring at the Survivor he/him]

The world changes.

Here's the whole intro:

The world changes. The rulers change. Battle tactics change. Armies change, politics change, people change, technology changes, weaponry changes, knowledge changes, rulers change.

To sum it up, just about everything changes.

One such change was when a group of heroes rose from nowhere. At first, nobody knew why. Nobody knew much about them. They lived in harmony with dragons, but despite being called heroes they didn't do anything heroic for quite some time.

Turns out, the only time they acted openly on their so-called heroism was when they betrayed humanity.

I think its better than the info-dump it used to be

Edited November 5, 2013 by Stroniax

[JustSarah]

I ended up reworking the paragraph a bit: "Nadine was resting, beneath the dunes nesting. As the wind on the surface blew, buried in the mountains she flew.  Coldness darkness chill, underneath the buried aluminum. Cardboard housing, residential district. It was the potato outskirts. A certain culture, similar to that of flies. But nesting, beneath the buried skies. It had been a few hours, since she had the taste of sand dragon heart. She was hungry, but she did not feel hungry. Her head was buzzing, her mind was becoming fuzzy. Vision fading, like steamed window-glass."

 

I'm considering actually reworking the whole plot, to introduce the fantasy element a little more subtly. I'm still unsure what I'm going to lean toward, whether the sub-fictional world within the Uploaded Fairy (Voreth's Promise), is going to lean more to a mini-universe anti-paradise, or closer to a virtual reality game.

 

And yes, that was extremely helpful.

Edited November 16, 2013 by JustSarah

[Natans he/him]

The very fisrt line I wrote =)

 

"O sol subia lentamente formando um arco de luz entre no cume da Montanha D'rube e uma pequena cabana no sopé da montanha."

 

Man I need more time to finish that book.

 

=)

[Swimmingly he/him]

The hit-and-run had gone on as well as could be expected; that is to say, barring a miracle, David would be gargling mud from the bottom of the Thames in three minutes, fourty-three seconds.

[Stormsong11 he/him]

I have a short story that I wrote that the first line was "I am not a murderer."

[Dysphoric Kitten she/her]

The first two (assuming I will add more) are holocaust-related half-pagers (even less?). I have some drawered/barely-started projects I'm working on (including a book), but they aren't in a form where I can say what will be the first chapter, even.

#1: Mejdanek
We went to the Rosegarten.

We went to the Rosegarten. It was green, not snowy and red. Around, brown shacks stood - squat but looming, threatening. The 49 of us entered Bad und Desinfaktion I, where I coughed all the time - it started within a second or two of entering. It all smelled like crumbling stone and wrinkles, and we ventured into a place of wooden despair.

 

(that was about half)

 

 

#2: The pits of death

 

It was a forest.

 

It was a forest. Anonymous, indistinguishable from others, halfway into autumn. The air was just beginning to darken, and I could smell the wonderful scent of greenery. The cold, I could only feel through my hands and my face. The group descended slowly into a large pit - crevices for killing.

 

(that's about a third of the story)

[Edgedancer he/him]

One first line I´m currently working on woud be:

 

"They struggeld with nothing, yet it still ripped a hole in their world."

It´s still up for debate wheter I shoud keep the first part or open directly with the second part.

 

Another line frome another work that is not the first line of the story but the first line after the Character got infected with magic:

 

"His world changed, now life seemd so much more delicous and the crows feasted on everyone, even himself."

[Aonar he/him]

Being an aspiring writer, I've kind of wanted to post in this thread for a while, but having what I've dubbed Robert Jordanism (after his famous tendency to strongly dislike sharing rough drafts with anyone, even his wife) I've been putting it off for quite some time. I figure I'll give some feed back on some of the more recent ones and then post a couple of my own.

 

@joshuarobinson: Depending on where you take that it could be very good, it sets up some backstory with just a few words and generates interest and tension at the same time.

 

@Tal Specktor: The first one might be more interesting if I knew WWII better, but its not bad. After that It very quickly becomes more attention grabbing though, so it might be better to combine your first/second sentences. "It was a forest." So what? All this tells me is that there is a forest. It does make me wonder why or if the forest is special though. Once again, maybe you should combine the first two sentences. One note on the context: it seems that you switch perspectives right at the end, which you should probably avoid.

 

@Edgedancer: The first one is good, it definitely makes the reader want to read on, but it could probably be worded better. I think you should elaborate on the "nothing" you mention. Is it some sort of primordial evil without apparent form? Is it some strange malevolent unseen force? Depending on how you word that you can make it a lot more dramatic and suspenseful (its hard to struggle with nothing; it generates a weird image). The second one is interesting, but it should either be split into two sentences, or phrased in a way that better highlights the strange absurdity of the crows, or contrasts their appearance with how much more beautiful the world seems.

 

Okay, now onto some of mine: (feel free to be as constructively critical of these as you want; I'd like to get better at writing.) These three are all from the same story, one from the prologue, one from the first chapter of the main story, and one from the first chapter of the interlude story.

 

Prologue

Surveying the the grim scene before him, Kyrien Ontos stepped carefully over the mutilated body in the cave's entrance.

 

With some context: Surveying the the grim scene before him, Kyrien Ontos stepped carefully over the mutilated body in the cave's entrance. He gave an involuntary shiver as he was assailed by the sudden cold, and the sharp, metallic smell of blood. The destruction in the rough-hewn room, the shattered rock, the scorch marks, and the blood sprayed against the walls bore all the hallmarks of an incredibly powerful animancer; far more powerful than they had expected.

 

Chapter 1

Aonar knelt before a small stream, vigorously scrubbing at his hands, trying to clean them of blood, blood both real and imagined.

 

With a little (not overly useful) context: Aonar knelt before a small stream, vigorously scrubbing at his hands, trying to clean them of blood, blood both real and imagined. He cursed himself under his breath for being stupid enough to think that he could cut through the forest and actually expect to reach Eli’ar more quickly. The road may have been longer, but at least there he would he been safe from the… things following him.

 

Interlude 1

The prisoner walked in, straight-backed and with a cocky smile on his face, seemingly unaware that he was surrounded by some of the most dangerous men and women in the empire.

 

With some context The prisoner walked in, straight-backed and with a cocky smile on his face, seemingly unaware that he was surrounded by some of the most dangerous men and women in the empire. His hood fell back, revealing the black Markings of a full animancer. Harewin Comeux, High Councillor of Eli’ar, shuddered. Animancers, the soul-tearers, the night-bringers, the heralds of unending winter. They were things of legend; children’s fables… and ordinary people given terrible, uncontrollable power.

Edited December 8, 2013 by AonarFaileas

[Gabriele she/her]

Oh, nice thread. There are some cool stories lurking here. Though I'm not sure animancers are something I would want to meet at night.

 

OK, here's some of my stuff:

 

Never to Return (historical fiction, 3rd century AD), beginning of the Prologue (Syria):

 

The wind blew hot from the desert again. Titus Calidius, optio of the third cohort of the II Parthica, wrapped his scarf around nose and mouth to prevent inhaling the red dust, and stared out at the plain of pebbles and sand stretching before him. The mountains in the distance, where the Roman army had been defeated by the Sassanids six months ago were hazy, though Calidius' memories had not faded. Now the emperor Severus Alexander licked his wounds in the comforts of his palace in Antiochia, while the survivors of the II Parthica had to man the watchtowers in the middle of nowhere.

 

Eagle of the Sea (also hist fic, 1st century AD), beginning of Madalric's plotline (Germania, near the Rhine):

 

The sound of pursuit, the heavy breathing and the thudding steps of several men came nearer. Madalric ran on, ignoring the sharp bite in his side. His heart pounded, his breath came in gasps, sweat bathed his body. Keep your stride, Madalric told himself, don't think, run. If he could reach the river, he would be safe. His legs hammered on, the light steps of the best runner of the Batavians long having given way to a desperate struggle. Fallen leaves and dry grass rustled under his deerskin shoes, low branches and treacherous roots grabbed at his legs; snakes in league with the goddess Nerthus to catch the sacrifice.

 

Beginning of part 2, Aquila's plotline (Britannia/Caledonia)

 

Marcus Aquila found himself in a half-sitting position, his back against the trunk of a tree. His wrists and ankles hurt with the tight thongs that bound him, and his shoulder burned like fire where a spear had pierced it, angling its way beneath the collar opening and the segmentata plates. Blood still trickled down his chest. His lips felt dry and his vision blurred from exhaustion and the loss of blood.

 

Beyond Dark Mountains (hist fic, again 3rd century AD, Britannia and Caledonia):

 

Cailtharn stood amidst the carnage. His grip on the sword relaxed and the point sank towards the ground; a few drops of blood splattering on the muddy earth. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and looked around. The battle was over. And they had won; Talorcan had been right.

 

A Land Unconquered (hist fic, early 1st century AD; beginning of the famous Battle of the Teutoburg Forest):

 

"Curse the German rain," Varus muttered and drew his cloak closer. The path was slippery with mud, and an icy north-west wind drove the rain into the faces of the men who plodded along with their heads bowed. A creak and curses told Varus that one of the carts had got stuck again. He considered sending the pioneers ahead to build a log road, but it would slow them down even more.

 

"How long did Arminius say this difficult part of the track was?" Lucius Eggius rode up to the general. "Chariomerus sends word the train is no longer in contact with the main column. Those ox wains get stuck even worse than the mule carts. And his cavalry can't flank the train, with the Hunta river flooding the meadows; he says he keeps his squadron to the rear of the wagons."

 

"He is that far back? That won't do." Varus and his staff had passed the area in early morning when the rain was but a drizzle and the grass no worse than lying heavy with wetness. Now it was less than two hours to dusk, the sky low and leaden with clouds bursting in windswept torrents. "Gnaeus Numerius," he called over his shoulder, "get your men back and help the train along. Cut some of those damned trees and cover the worst of the mud holes."

 

The chief engineer saluted and turned his horse. Further back in the column commotion arose as another rider pressed through. Varus recognised Cassius Chaerea. What was the matter now?

 

"Publius Quinctilius, my general," Chaerea called, "the Nineteenth is under attack!"

 

 

Forged at the Fighting (historical Fantasy, based on 10th century Europe), beginning of the Prologue:

 

The Veil opened before Asic of Sichelstein and the stag leapt into the grey mists. Asic's horse shied but he urged it on. That stag was his, Veil or not. He could feel the familiar cold seeping into his clothes, covering the leather jerkin and his gloves with rime. He took the bridle between his teeth, ripped the slippery gloves off, tucked them into his girdle and drew his sword. It was a gift from Beyond the Veil; the only weapon allowed in the hunt here. The blade glowed with a faint blue that grew stronger. Stronger than ever before, and Asic knew this hunt would be different.

 

Kings and Rebels (Fantasy, probably a series), beginning of Roderic's plot arc:

 

"I will lead the sortie myself." Girart Sinclaire d'Andeliac, Marchion of Cataives, held his arms out so his squire could fasten the vambraces.

 

Alerot made one last attempt to dissuade his lord from this folly. "Lord, your son ...."

 

"I do not need the aid of my son," Girart interrupted him in a harsh tone. "I do not intend to sit here and wait out the siege until he marches his army up from Strivelyn."

 

"As you wont, lord," Alerot answered in a soft voice. "Do you want me to carry your banner?"

 

"And watch my back, right?. Like I am too old to fight but you are not." But there was a hint of genuine warmth in Girart's smile. "Yes, I would want you by my side."

 

Beginning of Alastair's plot arc:

 

In the grey evening, the lake shone the colour of molten lead; the mountains merged as darker shadows into the twilight. Resting his arms on the tower parapet, Alastair O'Duibhne inhaled the cool breeze that carried a faint tang of salt. He had missed that smell; missed the high mountains sheltering the cold, dark lake. A week after his frenzied return from Gallicaine, the death and funeral of his father, the inauguration of his brother as tuathach of the clan, this was the first moment he had to himself, the first moment to mourn.

 

The wind dried his tears and fanned the plaid out behind him; the fierce welcome of a Riatan winter. He was home at last. A strand of auburn air blew across his face, the colour a heritage from the mysterious Merlinus Emrys, their legendary ancestor. It had run in the family ever since, it was said, and now it had come to Feradigh O'Duibhne's younger son, not the older. And with it, as only Alastair himself knew now his father was dead, the knowledge of a secret and dangerous power, and a dire responsibility.

Edited April 13, 2014 by Gabriele

[Gabriele she/her]

This forum has some funny autocorrect when it comes to - even mild - swearing.

[PorridgeBrick he/him]

snip

This is all really good here. But I'd definitely change the first sentence of your prologue.

"Surveying the the grim scene before him, Kyrien Ontos stepped carefully over the mutilated body in the cave's entrance."

I would cut "Surveying the grim scene before him". It's unnecessary. When he describes the surroundings a few sentences later, we know he's looking around anyways. And it takes away from the interest in the next part: "Kyrien Ontos stepped carefully over the mutilated body in the cave's entrance." You want the reader to read that first. It's what pulls them in.

Edited April 13, 2014 by PorridgeBrick

[Gabriele she/her]

I second that suggestion, it's more powerful.

 

Except you mean he surveyed the surroundings for pursuers, but then you should mention that and make it two sentences.

[Aonar he/him]

Thanks. Yeah, it definitely reads better like that.
 

Oh, nice thread. There are some cool stories lurking here. Though I'm not sure animancers are something I would want to meet at night.

 

That they aren't. It's funny when an unintentional loop-hole in a magic system you've built turns into an idea interesting enough to base entire plot-arcs off of.

 

Edit: It's been a while since I posted those. Lots of stuff in that story has changed (The first chapter is now the second, the first interlude chapter doesn't show up until after the fourth chapter, etc, etc). It's nice to know what I wrote is alright though.

Edited April 13, 2014 by AonarFaileas

[Gabriele she/her]

Lol, I know. I'm totally a pantster - yes, you can even write historical fiction without an outline - which means I do change a lot. In fact, the beginning of Forged at the Fighting was something I wrote for this post; until then Asic - the late father of my MCs -  had never appeared in person. He finally told me how he died, and now the story has a prologue.