Last week, as part of the chapter opening critiques, Sarah talked about the need for balancing background (setting, characters, world building) with grabbing the reader and hooking her into the story. What Frank Herbert could pull off in Dune worked, but you can’t really do that as your first story chapter. Even in sequels. Sort of.

I was reading over Sarah’s comments, and the replies and observations, when I got hit by an idea. (It felt rather like the GIF of the TV broadcast reporter getting hit with the fish.) Since late July, I’ve been working non-stop in the same story world, with two novels literally back to back. Same setting, same people mostly. I realized that the third book has almost NO setting description compared to the earlier one. This is NOT a good thing. (It also has too much talking, but that’s something to be fixed in revision, not now.) Even readers who know the series world pretty well need description. And what about relative newcomers?

I need more context for certain things, and more descriptions of where, when, and who. But not in the first paragraph, or first four pages. As Sarah said, the opening has to:

1. Hook the reader and catch her interest.
2. Introduce a protagonist (even a temporary one)
3. Introduce a problem, ideally one the protagonist has to deal with, and
4. Give us setting and genre. Clearly give us setting and genre, unless you are deliberately confusing the reader because a character is also confused.

So. Several of the opening hooks and lines that people suggested are from novels in the first person, but not all of them. (“Call me Ishmael.” “The building was on fire and it wasn’t my fault.” “Lessa woke cold.”) The idea is to make the reader curious enough to keep reading, then you build on that.* Beautiful, rich, thick description probably won’t do that as well as a bit of action.

That is, unless you are writing literary fiction, in which case slower pacing, different layers of description, and different narrative patterns may apply. You still need to catch the reader, however.

When I started writing for my own pleasure, I skipped all background because I knew the story. I plunked right into the world and went from there. Then I swung hard the other way and after the first paragraph came almost an encyclopedia-entry-worth of backstory, setting, and clothing. Eventually I trimmed out the most obvious problems, and a really good editor helped me see the other problems. Now I catch myself veering back toward “I know the world, so full steam ahead and plot away!” Erm, that doesn’t always work so well, either.

So, going back to the book I’m currently working on. It begins with a character, with a possible problem, part of the setting (an important part), and a genre clue.

Chapter One:

Caw! Caw caw! A moment of restful quiet, then CAW! Caw caw!

Jude contemplated the stone in his hand, and the crow that filled every moment of the early March morning with noise. It didn’t sound all that far above him, and no leaves had yet opened to foul his aim. “And you would have to craft a replacement if you cannot find it again. Or if you miss.” It only irritates, not bothers. Leave it be. He settled for making a mildly rude gesture and replacing the flat tan stone in the wall from which it had fallen. Of course Martha’s woodlot and orchards would be the only place in his Hunting territory where the ground froze so hard that it heaved. It had moved so much that it cast down part of the old stone wall.

Shoim, his Familiar and Hunting partner, glided into the clearing. The northern harrier stayed low to the ground, then swooped up to land on a sturdier part of the stacked-stone wall. “Why are you rebuilding that?” the black and brown hawk asked in Jude’s own tongue. A bit of sunlight beamed down from a break in the swift-passing clouds, casting a spotlight on the melanistic hawk. The light faded again. 

Jude straightened up and stretched, easing a catch in his back. He flexed and shook out his hands, especially his left hand. He’d unbuttoned the throat of his heavy coat, but even moving stones wasn’t enough to truly warm him. Winter held on tightly, unwilling to release Devon County from its grip.

Why was he repairing a stone wall that led to nowhere and sat in the middle of the woodlot? “For one, if I don’t, I still have to move the stones somewhere. Loading them into a wheelbarrow to take to the road serves no purpose if no one else needs them.” He leaned back, then twisted left and right. Something in his mid-back caught, then let go. He winced at the pop. “For two, there had to be a reason for the wall when it was built, [spoiler snip]. Until I know why it was built here, and know that the reason has passed, rebuilding it seems wise.” Every time he considered asking Aunt Martha for permission to remove the grey and tan stones, something in him warned against disturbing the structure.

[END excerpt here]

So, how much background is there? Well, there’s an assumption that readers know what a Familiar is, at least in the general “animal with magic worker, possibly assistant or advisor” sense. The setting is probably rural and temperate climate, and it is after winter. At this point, there’s not really a need to show what a Familiar does, since the problems are the wall and the crow. Do I need to mention that the wall was in the previous book, and will become very important in a future book? No. The wall gets lots of description, once it is part of the problem. The [spoiler] associated with the wall plays a role in confirming genre, at this point. And the nod to Chesterton’s Fence locks in genre (urban fantasy, modern setting, close to our world) and the character’s background (literate and well-read, perhaps old-fashioned in some way). For those wondering, the crows become more of a problem later in the story.

Why the character’s left hand is weak, how he came to be in the woodlot with a Familiar loitering nearby, that’s not something to cover here. It can be worked in later for those new to the series, and as a reminder for people who have read earlier stories.

Image Credit: Author Photo, Tabor, Czech Republic, 2019. You don’t need to know the geology to catch that the hillside is a wee bit steep, which might explain why the town is on top of it.

*This does not mean do everything right in the first few pages and then slack off, because you know that the “Look Inside” feature or sample chapter will lure people in and then you can get sloppy. People were doing that for a while. Don’t be That Author.