Get Your First Line to Make a Good Impression (Here’s How)

Reading Time: 5 minutes

Novelists and storytellers of all kinds know the importance of the first line of the story to hook the reader and invite them to stay for the long haul. But, arguably, the first line of a short story is more important than the first line of a book and stands to make a bigger impression on the reader.

For a book-length work, the reader usually has at least a little information about the story into which they’re diving before they even encounter that first line. The dust jacket or back matter copy provides a synopsis to intrigue the reader, and a great blurb goes a long way. Many readers will overlook a so-so first line if the blurb entices them enough, but when penning a short story, there is no blurb. The reader’s first encounter with your story, and, thus, their first impression of your story, is that crucial opening line.

Prompted by Fallon Clark via Adobe Firefly

The task of crafting a compelling and inviting opening line can feel daunting, but it doesn’t have to be. When you know the purpose of your opening line and what it needs to do for the reader, crafting the opener, tinkering with it until it hums, can even be fun.

So, let’s look at some first lines, dissect why and how they work, and talk through first-line best practices to set you up for your own opening line success.

Establish Point of View and Tone

“I’ll make my report as if I told a story, for I was taught as a child on my homeworld that Truth is a matter of the imagination.” — Ursula K. LeGuin, The Left Hand of Darkness

From this opening line, the reader knows several things about the coming story. There is a first-person narrator, I. The narrator is a visitor making a report. The story explores the concept of universal truth and the limits of the imagination.

Using the reporting style, LeGuin cements the tone of the work as one of almost journalistic quality, objective reporting from a third party not of the world but who observes the world. Reminiscent of Horace Miner’s famous satire article, The Body Ritual Among the Nacirema, LeGuin posits that the reader will be invited into something akin to a sociological study of the people or beings in the world in which the narrator finds himself.

State a Simple or Universal Fact

“Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.” — Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle

The opening line sets up the narrator as a wry personality, the kind of person who would qualify both violence and love as an ambush, like cute aggression. You know, the animal desire humans have to squeeze something cute until it pops, like a puppy or chubby baby cheeks. Readers expect to find a love story of a rough and perhaps violent kind, and if you’ve read the story, you know the violence happens early and fast.

The narrator comes off as a regular person albeit one with an interesting disposition, someone who may believe themself separate from or above an experience as mundane as love unless it is bedazzled with violence.

Drop the Reader Into the Story World

“We slept in what had once been the gymnasium.” — Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale

Right away, the reader knows there is a one-many comparison present in the story from the use of the first-person plural we. But beyond establishing the point of view, Atwood builds her story world right away by dropping the reader into a building that used to be a gym. While the reader doesn’t yet know why the sleeping space is no longer a gym, or how many are included in we, the change in expectation of a gymnasium from bouncing balls and nets to cots and blankets sticks out.

The reader knows something big happened before the story started, something that necessitated turning this gym into a sleeping space, and exploring that big happening is a focal point for the story and for the reader going forward.

Invite Curiosity and Intrigue

“The man billed as Prospero the Enchanter receives a fair amount of correspondence via the theater office, but this is the first envelope addressed to him that contains a suicide note, and it is also the first to arrive carefully pinned to the coat of a five-year-old girl.” — Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus

Now, receiving mail is not a new thing for any celebrity, magician, actor, or otherwise. But to receive one’s first suicide note, let alone to have it walk in on the lapel of a child, is a new thing and invites intrigue. This first line establishes the point of view and narrative voice, including the tone, but it also has a snazzy hook designed to dangle the reader along as the story unfolds and we learn who this little girl is, why she has a suicide note pinned to her coat, and why she ended up with a man named Prospero the Enchanter.

When to Craft the First Line

Many writers get caught up in first-line purgatory, crafting and re-crafting their first lines repeatedly until they’ve become so over-crafted they no longer read like authentic introductions. While the first line of the story is likely the first thing the reader will encounter of your work, arguably it should be one of the last things you spend your writing time on. Without knowing the end of the story, or without having written the ending, the first line can’t necessarily speak to the story trajectory, which means it may not tie in to the message of the work and establish the narrative thread that carries the reader through the work.

If you find yourself viciously beating up your first line, take a step back. Finish the story first if you haven’t, and then try the following reading technique to gauge the strength of your narrative thread before tackling the opening line:

  • Read the entire first paragraph of the story.
  • Read the first and last lines of each subsequent paragraph plus all dialogue
  • Read the entire last paragraph of the story

Putting those first and last paragraph readings close together may help you make connections between those two critical paragraphs. Once you’re done reading your story using this reading technique, you should have a clear sense, if you didn’t already, of the overall purpose and narrative arc of the story.

How does the final paragraph reflect the first? How does the final line reflect the first? What is missing (or what could be enhanced) in the first line to speak to the ending better and provide closure for the reader?

There are as many tips to constructing great opening lines as there are not-so-great openers. But my favorite method is trying a few things to see what works best for the story being told. Do you have a favorite opening line?

Happy writing!

♥ Fal

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Fallon Clark is the book pal who helps you tell your story in your words and voice using editorial, coaching, writing, and project management expertise for revision assistance, one-on-one guidance, and ghostwriting for development. Her writing has been published in Flash Fiction Magazine. Check out her website, FallonClark.com, or connect with her on LinkedIn or Substack.

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