October 18th, 2009 / 11:53 pm
Snippets
Snippets
Ken Baumann—
Writers: If the first sentence in your story is bad, rethink. It’s like handing someone a business card covered in shit.
VICTORY with a K
VICTORY with a K
Amen.
Amen.
Though my business card was now slathered in my own excrement, still I thrust it toward Mr. Jackson, hoping mightly that he would look past the slick brown stain and realize that my design skills were superior to Roger’s to Jake’s, even to, that bitch, Josephine’s.
Though my business card was now slathered in my own excrement, still I thrust it toward Mr. Jackson, hoping mightly that he would look past the slick brown stain and realize that my design skills were superior to Roger’s to Jake’s, even to, that bitch, Josephine’s.
The question now is, what makes an opening sentence “good?”
The question now is, what makes an opening sentence “good?”
I would say any opening sentence that makes you want to keep reading is a good opening sentence.
I would say any opening sentence that makes you want to keep reading is a good opening sentence.
That’s it?
That’s it?
Making the first sentence great is one of Gordon Lish’s big rules and you can see his influence on those he has worked with: Lutz (the MFing King), Lipsyte, Diane Williams, Ben Marcus, even Carver.
Making the first sentence great is one of Gordon Lish’s big rules and you can see his influence on those he has worked with: Lutz (the MFing King), Lipsyte, Diane Williams, Ben Marcus, even Carver.
I’m always put off opening sentences that mention the character’s name right at the start. And I mean *right* at the start: “Vaughan Simons sighed wearily as he typed the comment …”. It’s not necessarily *bad*, I suppose, but tedious, because I’ve read it a million times before.
I’m always put off opening sentences that mention the character’s name right at the start. And I mean *right* at the start: “Vaughan Simons sighed wearily as he typed the comment …”. It’s not necessarily *bad*, I suppose, but tedious, because I’ve read it a million times before.
A sentence that hits the ground running is a good first sentence. Movement is an underrated quality. I don’t mind lingering over a sentence for a while. It feels good, lets you catch your breath. But I don’t think every sentence needs to be savored. I think that’s a little too self indulgent. And that goes for the first sentence. It’s like you want to tell the writer, calm down, I’m not going to leave you, not yet, I don’t really know you, so you don’t have to try and get me off so soon. That’s one of the things about Lish that makes me uncomfortable. The man is a great writer and a great editor, but he’s also a big bag of gas. Not everything he says is gospel. His impatience is pathological.
A sentence that hits the ground running is a good first sentence. Movement is an underrated quality. I don’t mind lingering over a sentence for a while. It feels good, lets you catch your breath. But I don’t think every sentence needs to be savored. I think that’s a little too self indulgent. And that goes for the first sentence. It’s like you want to tell the writer, calm down, I’m not going to leave you, not yet, I don’t really know you, so you don’t have to try and get me off so soon. That’s one of the things about Lish that makes me uncomfortable. The man is a great writer and a great editor, but he’s also a big bag of gas. Not everything he says is gospel. His impatience is pathological.
Yeah, among the things I think a good first sentence has to do (or first paragraph, really, or first few paragraphs, but given that the first sentence is crucial to the success of those things, I’m not sure the difference matters too much) is define the terms of the story/novel for the reader. Like: what do we need to focus on? Character? Style? Insight? What will this story do well? Why should we care?
Yeah, among the things I think a good first sentence has to do (or first paragraph, really, or first few paragraphs, but given that the first sentence is crucial to the success of those things, I’m not sure the difference matters too much) is define the terms of the story/novel for the reader. Like: what do we need to focus on? Character? Style? Insight? What will this story do well? Why should we care?
I agree. But, the second sentence should be also OK. Like the rest.
I agree. But, the second sentence should be also OK. Like the rest.
“It was the afternoon of my eighty-first birthday, and I was in bed with my catamite when Ali announced that the archbishop had come to see me” — Earthly Powers, first line
That is the ideal. Who WOULDN”T want to read what happens next? I get lots of books sent to me. I will keep reading if a sentence is that good. Alas, most are not. Here are some random first lines from books sitting around here (thankfully all of these aren’t bad):
“The envelope had no stamp and only my name underilned on the front; it had somehow found me on Calcutta.” — Paul Theroux, A Dead Hand (okay, but a little too formulaic for my tastes; I get no sense of the envelope being alive or why I should care about the dude telling the story)
“America, said Horace, the office temp, was a run-down and demented pimp.” — Sam Lipsyte, The Ask. (Slight internal rhyme — temp/pimp — and too many commas gets my attention.)
“He was five feet tall one inch tall in street shoes, bearlike in his round and jowly face, hulking in his chest and shoulders, nearly just as stout around the middle, but hollow in the hips, and lacking a proper can to sit on (though he was hardly ever known to sit), and wee at the ankles, and girlish at his tiny fet, a man in the shape of a lightbulb.” — Salvatore Scribna, The End (probably my favorite of the three random books I pulled — and the one I would keep reading of the three)
Of course, I come from journalism, where punchy ledes are indeed a business card. And all this applies to blogs too.
“It was the afternoon of my eighty-first birthday, and I was in bed with my catamite when Ali announced that the archbishop had come to see me” — Earthly Powers, first line
That is the ideal. Who WOULDN”T want to read what happens next? I get lots of books sent to me. I will keep reading if a sentence is that good. Alas, most are not. Here are some random first lines from books sitting around here (thankfully all of these aren’t bad):
“The envelope had no stamp and only my name underilned on the front; it had somehow found me on Calcutta.” — Paul Theroux, A Dead Hand (okay, but a little too formulaic for my tastes; I get no sense of the envelope being alive or why I should care about the dude telling the story)
“America, said Horace, the office temp, was a run-down and demented pimp.” — Sam Lipsyte, The Ask. (Slight internal rhyme — temp/pimp — and too many commas gets my attention.)
“He was five feet tall one inch tall in street shoes, bearlike in his round and jowly face, hulking in his chest and shoulders, nearly just as stout around the middle, but hollow in the hips, and lacking a proper can to sit on (though he was hardly ever known to sit), and wee at the ankles, and girlish at his tiny fet, a man in the shape of a lightbulb.” — Salvatore Scribna, The End (probably my favorite of the three random books I pulled — and the one I would keep reading of the three)
Of course, I come from journalism, where punchy ledes are indeed a business card. And all this applies to blogs too.
When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon.
When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon.
[…] Bauman, via HTML Giant] Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)So Sad!!!A little Monday morning wisdom. . […]
I question the cult of the excellent first sentence. I mean, I try to make them all great, but at the same time there’s this sense of entitlement to perfect entertainment in a reader who insists on a first sentence that’s great — there are too many people and ideas of greatness for insisting on one particular sentence to ever make sense. I consider it my job to entertain people and make them feel interesting feelings, but in return I have to ask that they meet me halfway and read, like, three whole sentences before they give up, you know? Not a page, not two pages. Three sentences. Maybe a whole paragraph if they feel generous.
I question the cult of the excellent first sentence. I mean, I try to make them all great, but at the same time there’s this sense of entitlement to perfect entertainment in a reader who insists on a first sentence that’s great — there are too many people and ideas of greatness for insisting on one particular sentence to ever make sense. I consider it my job to entertain people and make them feel interesting feelings, but in return I have to ask that they meet me halfway and read, like, three whole sentences before they give up, you know? Not a page, not two pages. Three sentences. Maybe a whole paragraph if they feel generous.
I like this comment. Sometimes the first sentence isn’t much by itself, but is sort of a grace note, or “pick-up” to what follows.
I like this comment. Sometimes the first sentence isn’t much by itself, but is sort of a grace note, or “pick-up” to what follows.
i think there is a difference in expectation for first sentences. like, it doesn’t have to be weird or innately phrased or however. it just needs to be not a piece of shit. and sure, a shitty first sentence can be stylistic, and improved by entrance into the next ones, but it’s almost never the case. usually you can be sure that if the first sentence is weak and saying nothing (w/o aesthetic), the rest is going to be too.
i think there is a difference in expectation for first sentences. like, it doesn’t have to be weird or innately phrased or however. it just needs to be not a piece of shit. and sure, a shitty first sentence can be stylistic, and improved by entrance into the next ones, but it’s almost never the case. usually you can be sure that if the first sentence is weak and saying nothing (w/o aesthetic), the rest is going to be too.
How does everyone feel about “Call me Ishmael.”?
How does everyone feel about “Call me Ishmael.”?
It’s pretty brilliant once you take into account the concept of “the unreliable narrator.” Why wouldn’t he have just said, “My name is Ishmael?”
It’s pretty brilliant once you take into account the concept of “the unreliable narrator.” Why wouldn’t he have just said, “My name is Ishmael?”
Exactly. The “call me” is kind of unsettling.
Exactly. The “call me” is kind of unsettling.
Right. That was something Melville had been developing since Typee. This sense of storytelling within the narrative, of exaggeration. Conrad did this same thing with his story “Youth” and in the Lord Jim. It’s one of my favorite things to play around with in short story form.
Right. That was something Melville had been developing since Typee. This sense of storytelling within the narrative, of exaggeration. Conrad did this same thing with his story “Youth” and in the Lord Jim. It’s one of my favorite things to play around with in short story form.
Usually I try to use my first sentence to give you as much world as I can. I guess “not a piece of shit” is a fair standard, although again I feel like depending on what kind of reader you are you might call half the sentences even in a good story “a piece of shit” if you are in that mode.
I think this is my best first sentence: “Once the community had agreed that Mr. Reed would have to die, including Mrs. Reed and the sheriff and all the sheriff’s deputies, everything was simple and easy, and the murder came quite naturally.”
Usually I try to use my first sentence to give you as much world as I can. I guess “not a piece of shit” is a fair standard, although again I feel like depending on what kind of reader you are you might call half the sentences even in a good story “a piece of shit” if you are in that mode.
I think this is my best first sentence: “Once the community had agreed that Mr. Reed would have to die, including Mrs. Reed and the sheriff and all the sheriff’s deputies, everything was simple and easy, and the murder came quite naturally.”
“Make the first sentence great.” I just think this sounds like a bunch of creative writing teachers quibbling over parts. It’s quite useless to me. A “good” opening sentence is subjective. Just as the concept of “creativity” is. I’m not into “schools” of writing. Gordon Lish. Meh. His “students.” Yawn. I don’t care much for style over substance. You can have well constructed sentences without sacrificing story or ideas or character.
Personally, I find Will Self much more interesting than Gary Lutz.
“Make the first sentence great.” I just think this sounds like a bunch of creative writing teachers quibbling over parts. It’s quite useless to me. A “good” opening sentence is subjective. Just as the concept of “creativity” is. I’m not into “schools” of writing. Gordon Lish. Meh. His “students.” Yawn. I don’t care much for style over substance. You can have well constructed sentences without sacrificing story or ideas or character.
Personally, I find Will Self much more interesting than Gary Lutz.
When I clicked on this I thought there’d be more people listing either very bad or very good first sentences. I feel disappointed now.
When I clicked on this I thought there’d be more people listing either very bad or very good first sentences. I feel disappointed now.
i feel like the title is equally as important as the first sentence (or line), if not more.
i feel like the title is equally as important as the first sentence (or line), if not more.
hst. fear and loathing. something like,
‘we were somewhere around barstow when the drugs began to take hold.’
hst. fear and loathing. something like,
‘we were somewhere around barstow when the drugs began to take hold.’
Then I am fucked. Can’t write titles. Don’t really care about them either. What makes a good one? Is “Star Wars” a good title? Is Incredibly Close and Extremely Loud? What about Galapagos? I don’t know how to answer these questions.
Now the FONT of a title I will judge by.
Then I am fucked. Can’t write titles. Don’t really care about them either. What makes a good one? Is “Star Wars” a good title? Is Incredibly Close and Extremely Loud? What about Galapagos? I don’t know how to answer these questions.
Now the FONT of a title I will judge by.
By which standard Star Wars is amazing.
By which standard Star Wars is amazing.
Is Lish a great writer?
Is Lish a great writer?
titles are tricky. there are different types. i feel bored with titles like “the (occupation)” or something like that. titles that simply say, “this is what the book or story or whatever is about” suck.
i do enjoy long titles. or titles that are statements. titles should not be lines from the story or book or poem.
a title doesn’t have to be an envelope that a story can live within. it should be a mirror, or set of mirrors that reflect something or some things about the work. an echo device.
i’m going to go eat pizza now and work on a story that i started last week instead of writing a poem for workshop.
titles are tricky. there are different types. i feel bored with titles like “the (occupation)” or something like that. titles that simply say, “this is what the book or story or whatever is about” suck.
i do enjoy long titles. or titles that are statements. titles should not be lines from the story or book or poem.
a title doesn’t have to be an envelope that a story can live within. it should be a mirror, or set of mirrors that reflect something or some things about the work. an echo device.
i’m going to go eat pizza now and work on a story that i started last week instead of writing a poem for workshop.
I prefer first sentences like: “It happened this way.” (Graham Greene, “Monsignor Quixote”)
I prefer first sentences like: “It happened this way.” (Graham Greene, “Monsignor Quixote”)
I think so. Self-Imitation of Myself and Epigraph and Mourner at the Door have stories written in a voice I have never encountered before or since. And they are funny.
I think so. Self-Imitation of Myself and Epigraph and Mourner at the Door have stories written in a voice I have never encountered before or since. And they are funny.
First sentence doesn’t exist. You’ve got roughly 32 words to lure me in and hoist me onward.
First sentence doesn’t exist. You’ve got roughly 32 words to lure me in and hoist me onward.
I think the title should relate to the story in some way, even if it’s stretching. Having “long titles or statements” seems to me a bit twee. I don’t endorse it. It’s like bands that have long sentences for song titles. It might be clever, but it still doesn’t change the fact that most of the songs suck.
I think the title should relate to the story in some way, even if it’s stretching. Having “long titles or statements” seems to me a bit twee. I don’t endorse it. It’s like bands that have long sentences for song titles. It might be clever, but it still doesn’t change the fact that most of the songs suck.
That reminds me of a Barthelme (Donald) story from “Amateurs.” Also, you made a very good point about the “cult” of the excellent first sentence.
That reminds me of a Barthelme (Donald) story from “Amateurs.” Also, you made a very good point about the “cult” of the excellent first sentence.
Will Self is boring.
Will Self is boring.
Random first lines.
An April night in Atlanta between thunderstorms: dark and warm
and wet, sidewalks shiny with rain and slick with torn leaves and
fallen azalea blossoms.
A grain of sand, teetering on the brink of the pit, trembled and fell in; the ant lion at the bottom angrily flung it out again.
No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.
I KNOW you are all very uneasy because I have not written for such a
long, long time.
“I am glad you came, Clarke; very glad indeed. I was not sure you could spare the time.”
If you knew how to look, a couple of deaths from the past showed now and then in Iles’s face.
FOX IS A TELEVISION CHARACTER, and she isn’t dead yet.
THERE’S ALWAYS A MOMENT where everything changes.
Mae lived in the last village in the world to go online.
Was there anything quite so under-rated in this shallow, plastic, global-corporate, tall-skinny-latte, kiddy-meal-and-free-toy, united-colors-of-fuck-you-too world, than a good old-fashioned, no-frills, retail blow-job?
On my naming day when I come 12 I gone front spear and kilt a wyld boar he parbly ben the las wyld pig on the Bundel Downs any how there hadnt ben none for a long time befor him nor I aint looking to see none agen.
I had been making the rounds of the Sacrifice Poles the day we heard my brother had escaped.
YOU can never tell what a drunken Irishman will do.
The last word ever spoken by a human is said in a language derived from Hindi.
I’ll tell you about Mario the Neapolitan some other time.
Random first lines.
An April night in Atlanta between thunderstorms: dark and warm
and wet, sidewalks shiny with rain and slick with torn leaves and
fallen azalea blossoms.
A grain of sand, teetering on the brink of the pit, trembled and fell in; the ant lion at the bottom angrily flung it out again.
No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.
I KNOW you are all very uneasy because I have not written for such a
long, long time.
“I am glad you came, Clarke; very glad indeed. I was not sure you could spare the time.”
If you knew how to look, a couple of deaths from the past showed now and then in Iles’s face.
FOX IS A TELEVISION CHARACTER, and she isn’t dead yet.
THERE’S ALWAYS A MOMENT where everything changes.
Mae lived in the last village in the world to go online.
Was there anything quite so under-rated in this shallow, plastic, global-corporate, tall-skinny-latte, kiddy-meal-and-free-toy, united-colors-of-fuck-you-too world, than a good old-fashioned, no-frills, retail blow-job?
On my naming day when I come 12 I gone front spear and kilt a wyld boar he parbly ben the las wyld pig on the Bundel Downs any how there hadnt ben none for a long time befor him nor I aint looking to see none agen.
I had been making the rounds of the Sacrifice Poles the day we heard my brother had escaped.
YOU can never tell what a drunken Irishman will do.
The last word ever spoken by a human is said in a language derived from Hindi.
I’ll tell you about Mario the Neapolitan some other time.