Welcome back to THE WRITING CAFÉ. I hope you’re well, or as well as can be when the world is so hard and beautiful and unfathomable and disappointing and distressing and extraordinary, all at once, in every moment. Most of all, I hope that your hands are warming themselves around a mug of something delicious and that you have a notebook and pen close by. I can’t wait to chat with you about writing and to do some writing together too.
Writing a Fabulous First Page
I love the first pages of novels. They’re often what I use to help me decide whether I’m going to buy a book. They’re the parts of a book I mark-up most and I also have a little reading ritual which involves turning back to and re-reading the first page as soon as I’ve finished a novel. It’s a bit like taking a thrilling ride in a beautiful car and then getting to open the bonnet and to stare at the engine - a glimpse into the true workings of the thing.
As a writer, it’s when the first page of a story comes to me, stark and vibrant and full of energy, that I know the novel hold promise, that it’s asking to be written. It’s also the part of the novel that I write and re-write and edit and come back to the most.
I believe that the first page needs to work every hard - but, a bit like watching a brilliant figure-skater or beautiful tennis players like Federer, it needs to look and feel effortless from the outside.
Although you have to think carefully about all the things to include in that opening page (see below), a great deal of thought has to go into what you should leave out, the things that are getting in the way. You want that opening to sing and skip along, carrying the reader with it.
Opening pages strike a deal with the reader: they’re a promise that, if these opening lines made you sit up, woke something inside you, pulled at you and made you want to read on, then the writer will deliver on the rest. The opening page is an invitation. The writer is holding out her hand, saying: ‘Here, come in, follow me, I have something to show you - and you’re going to love it!’
Here are some of the things I think an strong opening should achieve.
Set the tone and atmosphere of the novel. The reader should have a strong visceral response to the kind of book they’re getting into.
Introduce an important setting. Perhaps the main setting of the novel or a setting which is literally or symbolically important to the plot or the characters. This can be subtle. A landmark. A tree. A river. A car. A womb. Or more obvious: a city, a town, a road, a continent. Whatever you choose, your reader should feel like they are entering the world of your novel, in a physical sense.
Establish the voice - or one of the main voices - of your novel. Perhaps your narrator. Your protagonist. Or a character who observes the main action. First or third or even second person. The reader needs to meet someone and to engage with them and want to follow them.
Suggest a conflict or tension, right from the start. Something needs to be at stake. There needs to be a problem. A point of fiction. Something that isn't right. Again, this doesn’t need to be a meteor crashing into your protagonist’s life. Some conflicts are subtle and deep and internal. But there has to be tension. There has to be a sense that there’s a problem that needs to be solved - and that it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.
Introduce or suggest a relationship of some kind, which is going to be important to the story. Characters exist and come to life and evolve in relation to others. It could be to someone who has passed away or to their own childhood self or to an imagined lover. Or, you can be more obvious and the first page can plunge the reader right into a conversation or an argument or an exchange between two characters. I love books that start with dialogue, like you’re walking in on a conversation.
Key ideas or themes. You need to have a light touch here: the last thing you want your opening to be feel like is some kind of treatise. But it’s helpful to have a sense of what this novel is going to be grappling with. Love or grief or loss or ambition or belonging.
Action. Something should happen in the opening. Again, it doesn’t need to be monumental. But a meandering description of a sunset isn’t going to cut it. The reader wants to see your character doing something, involved in some kind of forward motion.
I recently did a little video on the opening of LET US DESCEND by Jesmyn Ward and how it does an amazing job of launching the reader right into the world of the novel. Her very first line (“The first weapon I ever held was my mother’s hand.”) had me hooked.
(This video is part of my WRITING FROM FICTION series, in which I take a novel I’ve been reading and share an aspect of craft from that book. I publish these regularly on Instagram where you can find me at, @VirginiaMacgregorWrites.)
Over to you:
Take the opening of something you’ve written before, your work in progress or one of your drawer novels, or pull a book you love off a shelf, and look at the opening page. What does it achieve? Could it do more and better - and do it more seamlessly? Could you write a new opening to a novel that hits lots of the notes discussed above? Have a go. Write a fabulous opening. And know that a fabulous opening involves many, many re-writes!
A Writing Prompt
I’ve been doing Nadia Colburn’s 7 day Writing & Meditation Challenge and she’s been using poems from her new collection, I SAY THE SKY, as writing prompts. I love using poems as writing prompts and hers lend themselves particularly to opening up our thoughts and feelings and ideas. These lines from her poem, Anxiety, led to a a great writing session for me:
“What is missing? In the house of my life. In the moment of my life.”
Write out the words in your notebook and then keep writing for 10 minutes, without stopping or looking back. See where they take you.
Adapting the Prompt
As always, I love using prompts from the point of view of a character I’m working on. Use the line from Nadia’s poem or open up a poetry book of your own and give it to your character and respond from their point of view, writing, again, for 10 minutes, or longer.
At the heart of every great story is a character with deep, unmet needs and their longing to have those needs met. These lines from Nadia’s poem can help you get under the skin of you character’s wants and desires. See what comes out. See what you learn about your character - it might surprise you.
Recommendations for…
The soul: Helena Bonham-Carter reading Small Kindnesses by Danusha Laméris.
The body: I’m continuing to think and read about the relationship between the body and writing and about embodiment in general. For someone who has spent most of her life living in her head, dragging her body behind her as an afterthought, this is quite a journey. I’m finding the book, The Wild Woman’s Way, by Michaela Boehm, fascinating and comforting and challenging and helpful.
Thinking deeply about the act of writing: Claudia Rankine’s wonderful interview on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs.
This programme, along with BBC Radio 4, formed the theme tune of my life growing up in the UK: it was always on the background. It’s one of the things I missed most when I moved to the US. I still listen to the Desert Island Discs podcast and stumbled on a gorgeous interview with the poet and writing teacher, Claudia Rankine, where she talks about how and why she writes and about her experience of race and racism in America. I love how she refers to herself as an ‘archivist’ rather than an ‘activist.’ I know you’ll find it fascinating and important too.
Those of you who have children: The Smeds and the Smoos by Julia Donaldson and the illustrator, Axel Sheffler.
I’m constantly perplexed by how different the picture book market is in the UK versus the US. Such great titles, on both sides of the Atlantic, never cross over. In the US, Julia Donaldson and the illustrator, Axel Sheffler, are known for The Gruffalo and The Room on the Broom - but little else. This week, I went into my son’s daycare and in an attempt to bridge the Atlantic picture-book divide, I read to them from The Smeds and the Smoos, which is the book I feel every American needs right now, whether they’re 4 or 44 or 104. There’s a beautiful BBC adaption too, which your kiddos will love. Here’s the trailer.
A quotation to chew over this week…
In honour of Claudia Rankine, whose interview so inspired, me, here are some thoughts from her on writing. I’m always thinking about the relationship between writers and readers, texts and readers, the importance, in some ways, for the writer to disappear, to become transparent. Claudia Rankine’s words give us an interesting perspective.
“When you achieve it fully, you create something that's transparent - that people can move into and through their own experiences. As a writer, I don't want people spending time thinking, "What does she mean?" I want, in a way, my text to go away. So that the words on the page become a door to one's own internal investigation. It's just a passage. If the work does its job, it just opens.”
Claudia Rankin, Why I Write: Because Here Is Nowhere Steady
Thank you so much for reading along. Do let me know what you enjoyed and what you’d like to see more of. And if you enjoyed the newsletter, do consider re-stacking it and maybe sharing it with a friend.
With love - and keep writing!
Virginia 🤍
Coming-Up Next Week
What counts as writing, beyond putting words on the page along with another writing prompt, some more inspiration, recommendations and motivation. I hope you’ll join me.
I love how many of your photos include your notebooks.
I've always found that the infinite flexibility of pen to page is how I start a project.
I love that analogy about the figure skater--how the opening pages need to work really hard but read as effortless. So many great tips/reminders in this piece. Thanks, V!