How to write the first page of a novel?

[RiverRun]

So I've been thinking about a story idea that I thought my husband might be interested in. (He usually finds my writing genre choices pretty dull. Since he prefers 1,000 page historical epics that's not very surprising.)  But I was discussing this mystery story idea and he found it interesting, so I tried writing an opening scene. Its a good serviceable beginning of a rough draft of a mystery, but I thought it was kind of clever too.

His response "It's fine."
Me:"That's it? Fine? That's not very inspiring."
He thought for a while. "It will be interesting to see what happens."

Yawn.

So I've long suspected that my opening paragraphs are lacking. I write them and re-write them and re-write them again, but I don't think I've figured out how to do this very well. And I really dislike the exciting in media res opening followed by pages of tedious, necessary backstory for any of that to make sense. Hate those.

Does anyone have suggestions for how to write a really compelling, un-put-downable opening? Anything tried and true that works for you? Sometimes I suspect I hit on a good opening, then I re-write it to make it 'better' until I can't tell if I've improved it or ruined it. So even suggestions on how to tell when you actually have a good opening would be welcome.

I've heard that openings should never include the weather, but some of my favorite novels begin with descriptions of the weather. I can't think of any other "rules", be they useful or not. Do you have any?
 

[TimothyEllis]

So I've long suspected that my opening paragraphs are lacking. I write them and re-write them and re-write them again, but I don't think I've figured out how to do this very well. And I really dislike the exciting in media res opening followed by pages of tedious, necessary backstory for any of that to make sense. Hate those.

I think you said your own problem.

Tedious necessary backstory.

Here's my catch cry these days:

The only time the reader needs full understanding is on the LAST page.

Start with the action, run with it for 3 to 5 chapters, then you can fill in a bit of how they got there with an appropriately asked question for a few paragraphs, then move it along again.

The backstory you fill in bit by bit across the entire story as a character needs to know it, not the reader.

The reader doesn't need to know anything. They're reading it to find all that out through the story. And the last pieces should fit on the last page, or during the climax.

What you're doing is major info dumping, and that bounces the reader out. It's always boring, and almost never needed right then.

The mistake a lot of authors make is thinking the reader won't understand if it's not explained to them first. And that isn't true. They need to find out sometime, but it's far better to spoon feed it as characters need it, and let the reader piece it all together.

That aha moment for a reader is priceless if you can pull it off.

[RiverRun]

For entertainment and clarification, I'll put some of what I wrote here. I'm actually supposed to be working on a different book right now so I haven't got a lot invested in this at the moment, so it seems like a good piece to pick apart. Like I said, this is not my husband's genre, so that might be why it didn't appeal to him. Or it may stink too, that's always a possibility:) Critique away.



“The most dangerous game you’re playing is the one in your head.”

Chad Yates stared at the text message on his phone. He was reluctant to show it to anyone else. He didn’t usually share David Merton’s messages, although he had never asked himself the reason for this.
But here was this police woman sitting across the table from him, watching the phone in his hand as if it was a live thing, potent with voices that would tell her everything she needed to know.
“So that’s the last message you received from the deceased.”
The deceased. The word burned like cold metal in his mind. When the sun had risen that morning, it had seen David Merton drinking coffee, spitting toothpaste, typing messages. Now he was the deceased.
Chad slid the phone across the table.
“Do you know what he meant by this message?”
“Not precisely, no.”
“Part of an ongoing conversation?”
“Not particularly.”
“Typical of the sort of messages he would send?”
“More or less.”
“Does it pertain to the game of chess?”
Chad shifted in the hard seat. The woman looked at him in a way that made him feel like a worm on a dissection plate. “Chess—or life.”
“We’ll need a record of all the messages he’s sent to you recently. Have you had this phone long?”
“A year I guess.”
“We’ll retrieve all the messages from the phone company. But for now we can make a record of any pertinent ones.”
An officer by the door stepped forward, scooped up the phone and went out. They were sitting at a kitchenette table in one of the hotel’s empty suites on the first floor. It was near to one a.m. He had checked into the hotel almost ten hours ago, to be ready for the first day of this week’s chess tournament. David Merton had come later in the day. They had spoken briefly in the lobby. Chad had expected to meet him later, after dinner, to play chess, to talk, and possible to ask him about his increasingly epigrammatic text messages.
The hotel was silent. He was surrounded by strangers, utterly alone. A pawn hanging. He took a deep breath.
“You have a lot of messages from him.”
“We talked a lot this year. Played a lot of online chess together.”
“Would you consider him a close friend?”
“We live in different time zones, so, not that close. I don’t know much about what he did with himself all day.”
“Were you personally close? Was he a friend you could talk to about important things?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“Was he looking forward to playing in this tournament?”
“I think so.”
“Did he share any fears? Concerns?”
“Well—no, nothing important.”
“Anything, however unimportant it seems, might be helpful.”
“Alright. Well, he was really confident about his opening strategies for the tournament, but he told me that he wasn’t feeling so sure about his middle game. He felt like he as getting older, getting out of touch. Like, the younger chess players—”
“Like yourself?”
“Ah, yeah, I guess. That we played tighter, faster games. He felt like he might be getting obsolete. It wasn’t a big thing though. Going into a tournament forces you to think about your own weaknesses. And he expected to do pretty well. He had some new moves to bring to the board.”
“He tell you what they were?”
“Oh no, no. Not to a competitor.”
“Who would he tell?”
“His trainer would know. But does it matter? Would his chess strategy tell you if he was—” He couldn’t say the word.
“If he was murdered?  That’s not not always a fact that’s self-evident at the start of the case. For now, we’re just gathering all the evidence we can.”
She leaned forward and looked him full in the face. She had heavy eye brows, and a beaky nose. She was not unattractive, but he found this particular pose unsettling. He did not look away however. It was not unusual to face intimidation over a chess board. He was very good at it. He could keep his face expressionless, bland, empty.
“What do you think happened?”
“How should I know?”
She leaned back. Maybe there was no intimidation tactic. Maybe it was just one in the morning and the detective had only been resting her elbows.
“I like to know people’s opinions. Opinions aren’t evidence, but they’re formed by your knowledge of the evidence. We know almost nothing about this man or his life. So far, you’re the closest to him of anyone here.” Probably a true statement. “What is your gut reaction to his death?”
“It’s just, shocking. And, I don’t know—wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“I can’t explain why. It just feels wrong.”
She considered this, then closed her notebook. “That’s not an unusual reaction to loss. Thank you for answering questions. We’ll talk more tomorrow. You are, of course, required to remain here until further notice, for more questioning.”
“I expected to be here anyway. Although they’ve put the tournament off until Thursday.”
“If they have it at all.”
“Ah.”
She stood up, then hesitated. “That last text message. You said it was about chess, or about life. Can you explain that further?”
Chad had a vivid recollection of playing face to face against David. An outside board in a park somewhere. He couldn’t remember the name of the city.
They had been talking in a haphazard way about how chess wasn’t really like life at all. It was too cut and dried. Too logical. Too predictable. Life wasn’t really like that. “But there’s still something mortal about it,” David had said. “The stakes are high, for the king at least. It’s life or death.”
“I didn’t know you were playing with your philosopher king,” Chad had said. David had laughed at that. But there had been something about his eyes that said it hadn’t been meant for a joke. What had he meant?
“David was like that. He could say two things at once.”
The police detective stared at him, and then nodded. It had been a lame answer. They both knew it. But what else could he say? She looked unsatisfied but she let him leave. A new policeman appeared to conduct him to his room on the third floor. He didn’t get his phone back.
He climbed into bed and lay In the blackness, feeling deeply unsatisfied himself. That woman was convinced that he knew something, but if there was anything of value that he knew about all this, he couldn’t figure out what it was.

[Vijaya]

I really liked your opening line. The rest...is too long. Talking heads. I don't mind opening with dialogue if it's short. But there's a story here and you want to get to it. Not let him climb into bed at the end of the police interview. Given it's a first draft, just go with it. I often find that once I get going, I can delete the first chapter that's full of ahem...throat-clearing.

Hooked by Les Edgerton is a great book if you want to improve your openings.

[TimothyEllis]

I think that's a pretty good first chapter.

Maybe needs something about the murder to begin with, maybe an image of the body burned into the mind, but it holds my interest as it is.

What comes next though is crucial to keeping that interest.

Normally I'm 500 words and bin. So you got past my first hurdle on a genre I rarely read.

[PJ Post]

Start with the action...

Totally disagree. 

This only works for episodic stories with consistent genre characters, think of television shows. They can open with action, even if we don't know the characters, because we know where it is all going. The show has a formula. That doesn't work for stand-alone books or first in series.

I find lots of action involving people I don't know, fighting over even murkier stakes to be boring. I just don't care. There is zero investment.

___

Start with characterization. Give the reader a reason to care.

The secret is creating empathy, which means creating a character that the reader can root for. This creates engagement/investment. And that's what keeps people turning pages well into the night.

Try writing in first person present, it's a good exercise if nothing else.

___

Here's an edit:

___



"Were you close?"

Once.

Maybe?

Brooklynn was another time, another life.

But then, so was this morning.

"Friends?"

The detective can't keep the smugness out of her voice. Every question is leading, accusing, like she already knows the answer - even if I don't.

She slides a dead phone across the steel-topped interview table. "Look familiar?"

There's a metallic turquoise scratch along one side.

I clench my jaw, fighting against the rising emotion. Not here. Not now.

It's David's.

Has the Coroner even finished at the suite?

Is he still lying on the floor?

The bed?

David's not even cold, and she's already cornered her prey.

I'm f*cked.

"Mr. Yates." And then softer, "Chad; let's talk about chess."

___

This opening sets the stage - it's a murder mystery.
But Chad not knowing where David's body was found tells us he's innocent of the murder.
We know he and David were very close, they have history - there's sadness and loss - but we don't know the who, what, where, why or how of it - it's complicated.
But we also know Chad feels cornered, so he's into something, or knows something, or thinks he knows something - this establishes the character mystery.
And it gives us stakes - Chad is in deep trouble - he's being interviewed by the police.
We also know the phone is important, but not how - another mystery.
Why is the detective so sure of herself? What does she know? Or think she knows?
Why is the scratch on the phone so memorable?
The last mystery is how chess plays into any of this.

I'm not saying this is any good, but it's a way of inviting the reader into the story. It packs a lot of story into a very short intro. Every sentence has multiple narrative functions. To be fair, first person can create an intimacy that helps with this. I agree with Tim about info dumps. Give the reader just enough setting to make sense of the character's actions. Create curiosity. JJ Abrams called them mystery boxes - drop them fast and furiously. Aggressively manipulate the reader's emotions.

They'll thank you later.

*Forgive me for writing the edit in my style, it's just easier to think that way.

eta: also, keep the sentences and paragraphs short, and the flow kind of punchy/rhythmic. This is usually where the heavy editing comes in.

[TimothyEllis]

This only works for episodic stories with consistent genre characters, think of television shows. They can open with action, even if we don't know the characters, because we know where it is all going. The show has a formula. That doesn't work for stand-alone books or first in series.

I find lots of action involving people I don't know, fighting over even murkier stakes to be boring. I just don't care. There is zero investment.

.....

Start with characterization. Give the reader a reason to care.

If you get zero invested with the action, then it wasn't written very well.

Characterization even in action is essential. What happens in a lot of action is the author gets bogged down in plot driving, instead of character driving the story.

And we'll have to agree to disagree on another thing.

Your example lost me within a couple of sentences. The original didn't. I got as far as 'this morning' and had no interest in what happened. The message on the phone and the police woman sitting there get my interest right away.

[Hopscotch]

Might add that genuine police interviews, like genuine courtroom events, are rarely exciting.  "Just the facts, ma'am," as Joe Friday used to say, is just the facts.  A more dynamic approach could be to skip/condense the interview or refer back to it after stuff happens. 

[TimothyEllis]

Might add that genuine police interviews, like genuine courtroom events, are rarely exciting.  "Just the facts, ma'am," as Joe Friday used to say, is just the facts.  A more dynamic approach could be to skip/condense the interview or refer back to it after stuff happens.

I don't know about that.

Try watching some British police shows, like Vera. They do interviews all the time, and I never think them boring. And it's rarely about the facts.

Good writing is good writing.

And as an observation, the original version here is more British than American in style. imo.

[Hopscotch]

Start with characterization. Give the reader a reason to care.

If you get zero invested with the action, then it wasn't written very well.

Both opening approaches are good but the best I heard from John Ball (Last Plane Out, Virgil Tibbs, etc) who believed all stories are mysteries and you want the reader to shout "WTF happens next?!" from the first line.

[RiverRun]

I knew you guys would come though. This is so much food for thought.

I really liked your opening line. The rest...is too long. Talking heads. I don't mind opening with dialogue if it's short. But there's a story here and you want to get to it. Not let him climb into bed at the end of the police interview. Given it's a first draft, just go with it. I often find that once I get going, I can delete the first chapter that's full of ahem...throat-clearing.

Hooked by Les Edgerton is a great book if you want to improve your openings.

In general I agree with you that the best thing to do is keep writing. But in this case I particularly want to improve my approach to opening a novel.

I'm not sure I understand what you are recommending though. Are you saying I should spend more time describing the scene? Or I should be moving towards some definitive point of conflict? (probably both:) If you want to explain more I'd be interested.

[Hopscotch]

Try watching some British police shows, like Vera. They do interviews all the time, and I never think them boring. And it's rarely about the facts.

Yep, Vera is great but she's TV.  The police / coroner / court interviews I've witnessed (including Down Under) rarely showed more drama than an accountant reciting my tax returns.   

[RiverRun]

Start with the action...

Totally disagree. 

This only works for episodic stories with consistent genre characters, think of television shows. They can open with action, even if we don't know the characters, because we know where it is all going. The show has a formula. That doesn't work for stand-alone books or first in series.

I find lots of action involving people I don't know, fighting over even murkier stakes to be boring. I just don't care. There is zero investment.

___

Start with characterization. Give the reader a reason to care.

The secret is creating empathy, which means creating a character that the reader can root for. This creates engagement/investment. And that's what keeps people turning pages well into the night.

Try writing in first person present, it's a good exercise if nothing else.

___

Here's an edit:

___



"Were you close?"

Once.

Maybe?

Brooklynn was another time, another life.

But then, so was this morning.

"Friends?"

The detective can't keep the smugness out of her voice. Every question is leading, accusing, like she already knows the answer - even if I don't.

She slides a dead phone across the steel-topped interview table. "Look familiar?"

There's a metallic turquoise scratch along one side.

I clench my jaw, fighting against the rising emotion. Not here. Not now.

It's David's.

Has the Coroner even finished at the suite?

Is he still lying on the floor?

The bed?

David's not even cold, and she's already cornered her prey.

I'm f*cked.

"Mr. Yates." And then softer, "Chad; let's talk about chess."

___

This opening sets the stage - it's a murder mystery.
But Chad not knowing where David's body was found tells us he's innocent of the murder.
We know he and David were very close, they have history - there's sadness and loss - but we don't know the who, what, where, why or how of it - it's complicated.
But we also know Chad feels cornered, so he's into something, or knows something, or thinks he knows something - this establishes the character mystery.
And it gives us stakes - Chad is in deep trouble - he's being interviewed by the police.
We also know the phone is important, but not how - another mystery.
Why is the detective so sure of herself? What does she know? Or think she knows?
Why is the scratch on the phone so memorable?
The last mystery is how chess plays into any of this.

I'm not saying this is any good, but it's a way of inviting the reader into the story. It packs a lot of story into a very short intro. Every sentence has multiple narrative functions. To be fair, first person can create an intimacy that helps with this. I agree with Tim about info dumps. Give the reader just enough setting to make sense of the character's actions. Create curiosity. JJ Abrams called them mystery boxes - drop them fast and furiously. Aggressively manipulate the reader's emotions.

They'll thank you later.

*Forgive me for writing the edit in my style, it's just easier to think that way.

eta: also, keep the sentences and paragraphs short, and the flow kind of punchy/rhythmic. This is usually where the heavy editing comes in.

Oh my. That's really good. I like that a lot.

Weirdly, I find this kind of opening off-putting. Its too emotional and tense. I feel like something bad is about to happen and it makes me want close my eyes and look away. Which usually makes me put down the book. That's such a personal thing though. I am definitely not a gritty thriller/mystery writer. If you're not, maybe you should be:)

I haven't written anything contemporary for a while so I'm not entirely sure what the style is going to be like. I was going for a 'fans of Agatha Christie'  kind of vibe.

I still really like it. I was thinking that maybe this scene was not confrontational enough. My main character should probably be in some kind of trouble in this scene, shouldn't he? Actively fearful about something? Afraid of something being revealed? I like it that he's scared in your version. IN mine, he' shocked and stunned, which is kinda' dull on the page. I'll have to think about that.

[Vijaya]

I like PJs opening too. Now we know quickly that he's in trouble. He's already a suspect. But your first line is great and you should keep it somewhere. Maybe even as an epigraph (things that David said). I have to run to choir so can't write much more. Just remember that no writing is wasted--even if you scrap the first few chaps.

[alhawke]

So I've been thinking about a story idea that I thought my husband might be interested in. (He usually finds my writing genre choices pretty dull. Since he prefers 1,000 page historical epics that's not very surprising.)  But I was discussing this mystery story idea and he found it interesting, so I tried writing an opening scene. Its a good serviceable beginning of a rough draft of a mystery, but I thought it was kind of clever too.

His response "It's fine."
Me:"That's it? Fine? That's not very inspiring."
He thought for a while. "It will be interesting to see what happens."

Yawn.

I often discard the first couple chapters of my books. Sometimes you need things to marinate. It felt a little the ideas in your sample weren't fully formed, but it's a first draft. The writing is good, but it either needs to go through more edits or get discarded. Which is fine. Cause it's a first draft.

I think that's why you got a "meh" from your husband. It's not bad, but it's not phenomenal. Yet. It could be. It either needs to be massaged more or thrown out for future chapters. I think you're fine.

But we all do this, don't we: 

[RiverRun]

Normally I would not try to re-write the first page of a story like this before I had written quite a bit more. But I have more story beginnings on my hard drive than I could ever write novels for. So I'm offering this up for learning purposes. I want to improve my craft in this area. Feel free to tear my work to pieces.

Since I woke up really early and all this is fresh in my mind, I tried re-writing it and incorporating some of the suggestions you all made. I think its a lot better, but probably not at 'awesome, I-can't-stop-reading' first page level. If you can bear to read it again, here's my next attempt.

The most dangerous game you’re playing is the one in your head.

Chad Yates stared at the text message on his phone. The throbbing of his pulse told him that he’d made a blunder, as if he’d taken his opponent’s pawn, only to lose his queen in the next move. The message hadn’t worried him when he had first gotten the text, but now? It was terrifying.
“Mr. Yates?” The Police woman asked again. “I’d like to have a look at your phone.”
He wanted time to read over David’s old messages, to understand what his friend was really saying. It was the only way left for David to speak.
But here was this police woman sitting across the table from him, watching the phone in his hand as if it was a live thing, potent with voices that would tell her everything she needed to know.
“So that’s the last message you received from the deceased?”
The deceased. When the sun had risen that morning, it had seen David Merton drinking coffee, spitting toothpaste, typing messages. Now he was the deceased.
Chad slid the phone across the table.
“Do you know what he meant by this message?”
“Not precisely, no.”
“Was he talking about chess?”
“Probably.”
They were both Grand Masters, slated to compete in this week’s chess tournament. They had been eating, drinking and breathing chess for months. What else would David be talking about?
“We’ll need to read through these messages straight away.” An officer by the door stepped forward, scooped up the phone and went out.
Chad shifted in the hard seat. The woman looked at him in a way that made him feel like a worm on a dissection plate. ”Mr. Yates, did your friend have any enemies?”
   An awful lot of people didn’t like David Merton. And they probably didn’t mind saying so. But enemies?
   “I don’t think he had any assassins on his tail, no. We’re chess players, not the mafia.”
   “It’s a question we have to ask.”
The hotel was silent. He was surrounded by strangers, yet utterly alone. A pawn hanging. “So, you don’t think there’s anything suspicious about all this? Is this just routine?”
“At this stage of the investigation, I haven’t gathered enough evidence to say.”
She would probably say that anyway. He tried to read her thoughts, to guess her next move, but this was a game he didn’t know how to play.
She leaned forward and looked him full in the face. She had heavy eye brows, and a beaky nose. She was not unattractive, but he found this particular pose unsettling. “Every other chess player in this hotel says they barely spoke to him. But you’ve got dozens, maybe hundreds, of text messages from him. Can’t you tell me what he was thinking about? Was he depressed?”
“No.”
“Was he afraid?”
Had David been afraid? All those weird messages.

Chess is a mortal game, brother.
The king moves, and then he dies.
This is a game of life or death.

What had he really been talking about?
 Chad felt a sudden impulse to jump to his feet, to scream, to demand justice for David’s death. But he didn’t move. He barely blinked. You never let your opponent read your fear in your face. It was fatal to the game.
“You don’t know of anything that was troubling him?”
“Alright. Well, he told me that he wasn’t feeling so sure about his middle game. He felt like he was getting older, getting out of touch. Like, the younger chess players—”
“Like yourself?”
“Exactly. That we played tighter, faster games. He thought he was getting obsolete. He wasn’t giving up though. He had some new moves to bring to the board.”
“He tell you what they were?”
“Oh no, no. Not to a competitor.”
“Who would he tell?”
“His trainer would know. But does it matter? Would his chess strategy tell you if he was—” He couldn’t say the word.
“If he was murdered?  We don’t have enough evidence.” She threw down her pen, got up from her seat abruptly and turned away.
So she knew it, too. Something about David’s death was wrong.
The detective gave him permission to go, all the while reminding him that he was expected to stay at the hotel, that he would be questioned further. That the tournament was postponed until—he stopped listening Maybe when he had a chance to work things out in his mind, he’d see the solution, the elusive pattern that would unlock everything that had happened and tell him what his opponent was trying to do. But this wasn’t chess. It couldn’t just be a game, could it? He swore silently to himself. A game of life or death.


I kept the same general style and pacing, since Tim approved:), and its more in line with what I am likely to write anyway. I condensed some things to make it less wordy, and moved some of the dialogue to description or internal monologue, to cut down on the talking heads. And I tried to heighten the tension by giving the MC more apprehension about his fears. Its still kinda' vague, but I don't know much about the plot yet anyway, so we'll pass over that. I also added more chess metaphors, possibly too many. Feel free to criticize:)

[PJ Post]

These are just more opinions...

The most dangerous game you’re playing is the one in your head.

It's clever, but it's also telling the reader how to think and feel. I'd lose it. As a rule when writing, if it sounds clever, delete it.

Besides, isn't this your theme? Show it.

___


The passage has a problem with both pacing and purpose.


Firstly:

What is the point of the passage?
Are you introducing setting?
Character?
Plot?
It reads like you're trying to say everything all at once.

It reads like a rushed short story.

All a reader needs is an introduction to the story and a hook, a reason to keep reading.


Secondly:

The scene needs to breathe and flow. Highlight important parts with pauses or action or introspection.


Thirdly:

Good openings read like a thesis statement.

Chad Yates stared at the text message on his phone.

I know it's a rough, but you need a better opening sentence.

I think it's important to start with either character emotion and their connection to the setting or close perspective plot mysteries. Both should establish tone right out of the gate.

___


I'm filling in the blanks because I have no idea what the story is, but here's another edit...(not totally in my style - and still not saying it is any good, just another perspective):

___


Chad's world had gone altogether sideways.

Everything was cold, the metal chair through his Burberry trousers, the uncompromisingly filthy tiled room, even the air raised goosebumps.

Or was it the equally cold voice?

Her patronizing smugness felt more at home on an East End stage than in a Police interview room.

"Mr. Yates?"

He tried to remain calm.

"Your phone?"

He tried not to look, tried not to think about David's text - any of them.

But it was no use. He was confident that his interrogator, like some cinematic vampire, could sense his pulse racing through his jugular.

There's plenty of time to figure out what David was into, for now...just sacrifice the pawn and move on.

"Mr. Yates," and then with a softer practiced tone, an ingratiating tone, "Chad?"

He looked up for the first time and met her eyes.

Definitely, a vampire.

"The phone? We know you were in correspondence with the deceased. Today is merely...merely a formality." She waved the last away with her hand.

But to Chad, this wasn't merely anything, and David Merton most assuredly wasn't the deceased. He was there, just this morning, in the suite, having coffee, prepping for the tournament...

Chad slid the phone across the table.

___

eta: I know I said never start with meaningless action, but in Tim's defense, one could look at all scenes as action sequences, chases or dances. The characters always start in one place and always end up in another - physically, emotionally or intellectually.

[RiverRun]

Thank you very much for your thoughtful analysis. Gave me some ideas to chew on.

I'm not convinced that cleverness is out of place in an opening line, but I think you may be right that the text message is a bland place to start a story. It puts my MC in a necessarily dull position at the outset.

I hadn't thought of this as rushed but now that you point it out, it probably is. When I suspect my writing is weak, I have a tendency to just add in more of the same mistake, which might be happening here.

This scene lays out a lot of information that's actually important for the reader to know - eventually. The conflict between the detective and the MC probably seems really important here, understandably so, since its all that's happening. As a detective grilling a witness, its awfully bland and tame. But its not really meant to be that. I meant for the interview with the detective to provide a means of introducing some of the key points of the story. That its about a murder at a chess tournament, and that Chad feels a personal interest in David and is likely to try and solve the mystery surrounding his death.

 The police are going to conclude that David committed suicide, (in part because of his text messages and Chad's testimony. They think David  was depressed over his failing chess career). Chad isn't convinced and will play amateur detective to uncover the secret motivations of his fellow chess players in order to find out whether or not David was murdered. So I like that my scene sets up uncertainty about David's state of mind, Was he becoming fatalistic about chess? Or was he warning Chad that he was in danger? The messages are supposed to hint at a lot of possibilities. But maybe this is too much too soon. Maybe I need to start the story somewhere else and let the text messages unfold gradually as Chad's convictions become clear to himself.

The interaction with the detective shows the seeds of conflict between Chad and the police, setting up the break that will ultimately come later on.

I guess that's not much of a hook though.

I'm off to study more about what constitutes a good hook in the beginning of a novel. I've read about this before but never felt I quite grasped it. I know it isn't pure tension, since most of my favorite books do not start out with a lot of actiony-emotionally frought tension. But I'm pretty sure I'm still missing something here.

[PJ Post]

The important thing to remember is that there are no rules. If it works - it works. All we can do is lean into what we've seen work before and hope for the best. I do a lot of hoping. 

I don't think this is a bad place to open, but the scene needs a perspective. I would use it to begin introducing the reader to Chad rather than plot specifics, such as the texts. He's the MC, so we want them to root for him. He needs to be seen as the underdog, at least in this specific conflict. He's like Nancy Drew. Also, I think it is important to hint at connections and ideas - back to JJ's mystery boxes - rather than come right out and say what's what. Readers love mysteries, even the tiny page to page ones. The secret is getting the setup to mystery to reveal ratios right. It's like a recipe. You have to let the dough rise. Okay, I'm out of baking metaphors.

One of the reasons I love first person present is it allows me to view everything through the MC's perspective/filter: their hopes and dreams and fears. It's a great tool to figure out what in the scene is important to them. Every word on the page is their inner dialogue, so it is all characterization, including their vocabulary.

In this case, Chad is emotionally crushed, terrified, completely disoriented, confused about the circumstances of David's death, and yet, still thinking about the tournament. He's a mess.

You might try writing the scene from Chad's perspective (first present), and see how it works for him. And then pull back to third past and see how it all translates into the scene.

Also, you need to figure out tone. Is it a cozy, a thriller or a pseudo-procedural? Is it dark, gritty, humorous, maudlin? The language and vocabulary enhance tone, similar to setting, it's like another character. All of which creates a more immersive experience for the reader, which creates engagement, which keeps them turning pages.

I think it is important to let the reader know what they're in for as soon as possible, so, MC, tone, genre, conflict, etc.

___

On the cleverness, it's just one of my pet peeves. It's a show don't tell thing for me.

[RiverRun]

The important thing to remember is that there are no rules. If it works - it works. All we can do is lean into what we've seen work before and hope for the best. I do a lot of hoping. 

Well said!

I have actually been working on some other projects in first person and I need a break from it. So, third person it is. I get what you mean about the immediacy. It's quite useful and fun sometimes.

For tone, this is probably closer to cozy than thriller.

Here's another attempt. Kept a similar tone, but I tried to be more focused, instead of attempting to cram everything in at once. And I tried backing off from Chad's emotional confusion and focused on the story more. This is actually going a little backwards from some of your suggestions. But I think this is more of the feel I had intended to shoot for. I like books that wander a little in their narrative style. Initially I was trying to speed things up, but it was going against the grain. Or I was doing it the wrong way. This is slowed down, but hopefully less erratic.


No one had invited Death to play in this year’s Inglewood Chess Tournament. He’d shown up anyway.
That was why Chad Yates was perched on a metal chair in the middle of the night. His toes were numb; it was cold in New Hampshire, even in May. And the room stank of Lysol, which he hated. He tried to breath as little as possible.
Hours ago he had been standing in front of a room at the exclusive Inglewood Hotel. He and all the other competitors had been welcomed by a crowd of officials, commentators and chess enthusiasts for the opening ceremony. David had been missing. Now they knew why.
“Mr. Yates?” The police woman asked again. “I’d like to have a look at your phone.” The detective had liquid brown eyes that affected him strongly. It was irritating to be grilled by such an attractive woman.
It was also irritating to give up his phone. All Chad wanted to do right now was curl up in a corner and read every single text message that David had ever sent him. David had always texted him during their online games. Half the time, Chad had barely read the messages. If it amused David to trash talk during their chess matches, Chad wasn’t going to object. But now he couldn’t keep back the feeling that there was something important buried in all those messages. A pattern? A hidden meaning? Was that even possible? Knowing David, it could be. But it’s not like there was a choice. He slid the phone across the table.
“That’s the last message you received from him? ’The most dangerous game you’re playing is the one in your head?’ Do you know what he meant by this?”
“Not precisely, no.”
“Was he talking about chess?”
Chad hesitated. “Probably.”
“There are dozens of messages here. Maybe hundreds.  Can you tell me what he was thinking about?”
He looked the detective in the eye. A chess player anticipates his opponent’s moves. And he was a Grand Master. He didn’t like the way this was going. “What he was thinking about? What do you mean?”
“Was he depressed?”
“David? No, I don’t think so. He was a really confident person. I don’t think I ever saw him depressed.”
“Was he afraid?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what he might be afraid of.”
“Afraid of falling behind? As a chess player?”
“Oh, well—I wouldn’t say afraid, exactly. He was concerned. Why? Do you think he —” Chad straightened in his chair and stared hard at the detective. “Do you think David did this to himself?”
“We’re still just gathering information.” Her voice was more severe than before.
“You think he’d commit suicide because he wasn’t winning tournaments any more?”
“We have to investigate all the possibilities.”
This was ridiculous. “David had the grace to accept that he was getting older. That he couldn’t play as well as some of the younger players.” Didn’t he?
“You are one of those younger players, aren’t you? You were his competition.”
“Sure, but we weren’t antagonistic.”
What had they been, after all? Men living in different time zones, connecting to one another over the squares of a board, glowing on a pixelated screen. Could you know I guy that way? Really know him?

[RiverRun]

I'm not completely sure what you mean by JJ's mystery boxes. A lot of excellent mystery novels have a sort of structure where you read in haste to find the solution to a smaller mystery within the context of the larger mystery story, only to find that its opened a whole new question that you rush ahead to find the conclusion of. That's what I'm aiming for, though I have a ways to go to get there.

All I know of JJ Abrams is that he was involved in the most recent Star Wars trilogy, which I found so laughably bad that I was cracking jokes all through it. But there seems to be something about the Star Wars Franchise that tempt people to make bad remakes. Maybe that wasn't entirely his fault.

[TimothyEllis]

All I know of JJ Abrams is that he was involved in the most recent Star Wars trilogy, which I found so laughably bad that I was cracking jokes all through it. But there seems to be something about the Star Wars Franchise that tempt people to make bad remakes. Maybe that wasn't entirely his fault.

I missed that. No wonder that trilogy doesn't work for me.

Like the Trek trilogy before it wasn't Trek at all, that Wars trilogy is a travesty. 

Fortunately, I can do the same thing with both trilogies. The Trek reboot movies are officially an alternate timeline now. The Wars trilogy can also be labeled that.

He does good action movies, but he can't do reboots in a way that maintains what came before. Both trilogies would have worked if not in the universes they were supposed to be in.

[RiverRun]

Out of curiosity, I looked up J J Abrams and mystery boxes. Apparently he likes to suggest mysterious elements that he never intends to explain. Yeesh. I can see how that might be handy once in a while but not my preference in storytelling. Yes to multiple mysteries. but no to mysteries I cannot and will not explain.

One of my favorite contemporary reads was the 71/2 lives of Evelyn Hardcastle, which raised so many questions, but also delivered so many answers, but without tying things up in a neat bow. The whole book is wildly implausible but in my opinion completely works, because the story supplies so many cohesive answers.

After thinking this over more, I realized that I keep trying to wedge backstory into this story opening, which probably means this is not where this story actually begins.. I think I'm definitely going to scrap it and try again. I learned quite a bit from this exercise though, so thank you.

[Crystal]

What hooks the reader is very genre dependent.

We learn about traditional three-act structure, with about 10% of the opening introducing the characters in their current world, but I find that boring. I prefer the TV-writer approach to starting at the beginning of Act II. Or at least with the inciting incident.

If I can, I start the book with the inciting incident.

Since I write romance, that typically means chapter one sets up the external plot (i.e. the reason for a "fake relationship", the change in the world, for example, the hero's mentor confesses he is dying and so glad to see the hero settle down with the heroine... only the heroine is just a friend). Or I start with the two MCs meeting.

I try to have my two MCs together, in a scene, by the end of chapter two at the very latest.

Since I write romance, starting with chemistry, banter, or sex are all "hooky" in my genre. That doesn't always make sense for the plot. I occasionally start in medias rea, especially if I have a bit more set up than usual, or I start with a long-ago inciting incident (that is also exciting). That works well if two characters have a long relationship and it works especially well if the characters are enemies (we want to see why they hate each other), but, of course, the scene needs to be interesting.

A lot of romance authors start with a long ago prologue of the Most Horrible Thing to Ever Happen to the Hero, to build sympathy, but I find this a poor replacement for character development, and a sign the author is going to substitute trauma for character... a very popular choice/style of writing but not for me.

When I read a mystery (one of my regular genres), I want to start with the discovery of the body. Anything else, and I am disappointed. I do not want to meet the cast, or see the killer, or see the murder, or see the victim before the murder (though I will accept this as a second option, if things don't get too graphic).

When I read a legal thriller, I am more flexible, but I do prefer to see an exciting trial set up right away. Then, I know I have a courtroom heavy legal thriller. A lot of legal thrillers are more mystery without much court action, which is fine, but not for me.

So the TL;DR here is look at the genre, or at your book, and ask yourself "why do people read this" and start with that, if you can. In romance, that is often chemistry, emotional, unresolved sexual tension, or sex. In mystery, that is usually the question of "what happened" or whodunnit or whydunnit. In a courtroom drama, that's exciting legal maneuvering. In sci-fi, that's epic space battles (or whatever it is in your niche). In fantasy, that might be dragons or epic swordfights, or the battle between good and evil.

For bonus points, capture the tone and setting in the first scene. I think this is a really under appreciated thing in genre fiction. You want to tell the reader how to read the book. Is it funny, serious, irreverent, sarcastic, deep, fluffy, sad, etc?

[RiverRun]

Thank you, Crystal. That gave me things to think about!
 But if you come back to this, there are a couple things I don't understand. What is the tv writer trick of starting in act 2?
 I gave up on tv around 15 years ago so examples may be hard to find. Do you mean skipping all that "MC in her ordinary world stuff" that writing books talk about, and starting in on the main conflict at once?

You seem to have very specific ideas about what you want from a book when you read it. I feel a little tone deaf in this regard. I know what I like but not how to define it. When you say you like a mystery to start with a body, why do you think that is? Is it because you start right off with trying to solve the puzzle instead of dallying around with irrelevant character detail?

Now that you point it out, I can think of a couple mysteries where I stopped reading or skimmed until the body turned up. Of course there are exceptions, but I guess I should have something amazing as an opening if I deviate from the tried and true.

[LBL]

You have to remember, YOU as an author - from the perspective of the reader - are the equivalent of the door-to-door salesperson. You've knocked on the reader's door, they've begrudgingly answered, and they can (and will!) close the door in your face at any given moment. So, you must keep them intrigued enough to keep the door cracked.

The opening chapter has a lot of heavy lifting to do. It's easy in our hyper-distracted world for anyone to drop you in the first chapter - to close the door. So, yeah, you've got to hook that reader and keep them on that hook for as long as possible. To do that, you've got to make them care.

To me, an opening chapter should not be mostly dialogue driven. If it's mostly dialogue, then you're probably diluting the opening chapter's potential power to hook. You have to establish care, and a rooting interest in your potential hero to lend weight to whatever conversation ensues. And no, conversation on its own isn't enough to make a reader care about a character or to truly establish a rooting interest. It's got to be done with it in combination with other ways.

It's not easy to come up with a gripping opening chapter that truly hooks and retains a reader - that keeps their door open to you - the annoying door-to-door salesperson. It's a balancing act. You're spinning multiple plates simultaneously.

Okay, so not majority dialogue to start with - so, what's the balance?

I think introspection works. But, you don't want to over-do that either. A sentence or two here and there. Same thing with scene-setting and description. You definitely don't want to glaze someone's eyes over with too much heavy exposition. Yep, it's all a balance.

You want to establish character in a sympathetic way, give us a glimpse of their wound (without going into backstory, please!), and you want to get across where they are, why they might be there, what's happening, what's at stake - all right away - but without being overly wordy, nor coldly robotic about it.

It ain't easy. I think the best authors make it look easy.

In my opinion, one of the best opening chapters would-be authors might want to study in terms of hooking a reader would be First Blood by David Morrell. Yes, it's the first Rambo book, and before you roll your eyes because you might have ZERO interest in a character or genre like Rambo - please give it a shot first, you might be surprised. It's not all run-and-gun and explosions and uzis and machismo out of the gate. You're thinking of sweaty Stallone in the movie, but the opening of that first book by Morrell - to me - is a masterclass in how to introduce readers to a character and a situation, and have us intrigued and caring, while also establishing a nemesis, stakes and the whole ball of wax right away.

If you read that opening chapter, and you're still not convinced it's a great way of going about opening your novel - whatever your genre - I would also heartily suggest Thomas Harris's Silence of the Lambs. To me, the opening chapter to that book is also a masterful display of spinning plates. I cared about Clarice right away, I'd established a rooting interest, and I was greatly intrigued and wanted to continue the story just from that opening chapter alone. If you can do that as an author in any genre, you're well on your way.

Good luck!

[RiverRun]

Random musings on openings.

I had some time yesterday so I read the opening to First Blood. It's very good, and it does all the things a good opening is supposed to do. I also picked a book by Colleen Hoover "It Ends With Us" and read that opening too. Looser of course, but still good. I wouldn't read either of these books but that's taste. I recently looked back at the opening to the first of Alan Bradley's Flavia de Luce mysteries, which I've read and liked. It has the same things. Action from the first page, the voice and tone of the book, clear character development. Absolute minimal back story.

In both Alan Bradley and Colleen Hoover, they do get into back story pretty soon, during the look inside of the book. Hoover does it through dialogue. (MC actually unloads a lot of personal things to  total stranger. Which seems unrealistic. But I'm still thinking about the characters. They have a lot of drama in their lives. I guess it works.)  Bradley does it through what I consider a clever re-telling of how Uncle Tar built a full chemistry laboratory years before. Flavia has a very strong voice, the strength of the novel, so the rest of the back story is delivered with her humor and wit as she wanders over the house. Morrell does very little explaining as far as Rambo's back story. Its all through showing. Rambo doesn't tell anyone anything.  He is occasionally in conversation with himself in his head, which reveals all the info we get about him. Its very well done.

I also took another look at the opening to Tana French's Into the Woods. Which is a full page of a second-person description of summer. I'm thinking this is one of those where the 'rules' were deliberately broken for effect. It's quite a literary description, and I know from reading the rest of the look inside that both the present and past of the character is very compelling from the start. But the first page is unusual. There's action and movement, but not the main character's.

Except for French, All these openings do, in fact, start with action, almost no back story, and minimal introspection.

Incidentally, I find them all just a little bit gimmicky. Hoover puts her character on the edge of a roof. Me: is she suicidal? No, that idea is proved wrong within the first paragraph. I'm still interested, but. That's a gimmick to me. Bradley begins with Flavia locked in a closet by her sisters. Which she quickly escapes and runs around with perfect freedom. Its relevant to the story, but it wasn't necessary to start with that kind of artificial drama.

And speaking of gimmicks. Morrell TELLS THE READER what is going to happen before it happens. One the first page. It's mixed in with a lot of really excellent 'showing', and its very effective. By Tuesday, everyone in town is going to be hunting Rambo. Its a good technique, that one little bit of telling in all of that showing. But I'm not sure I would be able to use it myself. The story would still hang together without that reveal. But it suggests that at least some 'telling' is going to be important to a great opening.

My conclusion: I thought gimmicks were a bad way to start a book, but apparently I was wrong about that. Or maybe my idea of what constitutes a gimmick is not right.

In Rambo, the action at the start is intrinsic to the plot. (This is true also in 7 1/2 lives of Evelyn Hardcastle.)  In Hoover and Bradley, its relevant, but not actually necessary to the story. Apparently readers don' t mind a little artificial action-y sequence at the opening. (I thought this was a no go that I should avoid.) But starting with action necessary to the story is even better if possible.

None of these are dialogue heavy openings. I like dialogue-heavy openings (That's probably obvious:) But if I'm going to attempt one I think I better study them some more. Whose Body by Dorothy Sayers comes to mind. That's an old book by most people's standards. Maybe dialogue heavy openings are not well suited to modern readers.

Conflict is still king right from the start. That is something I was particularly trying to work on my attempt above, but it seems I muddied it up. So, strong storyline; with conflict. Not the other way around.

[RiverRun]

And here's another sample opening to contemplate. Its a little rough but I'm really curious if this is an improvement, or just moving sideways rather than forward. Thinking of Crystal's advice, I moved the opening closer to the the finding of the body and chose a moment when my MC feels compelled to go do something, instead of being passive.


Chad smiled when the camera flashed in his face, but all the time, he was watching for a chance to leave. He wanted to look for David. If he could edge a few more feet towards the back of the platform, the burly new competitor from Brussels would block him, and he could slip off the makeshift stage.

A clamor broke out on the other side of the room. Chad looked over eagerly. Maybe it was David walking in at last, ready to take his place on stage with the other competitors. But no, it was the reigning chess champion winning a laugh from the crowd. With the other chess players gazing jealously across the room, Chad sidestepped off the platform and out the back.

He strode into the empty lobby. Not even a receptionist in sight. The big hotel was full of odd silences and empty corners. It made him feel like a hanging pawn. Sweat made his shirt stick to his back and his black hair hang limp in his eyes; the eyes of his Japanese mother. He considered the elevator, but decided instead to take the stairs two at a time.

It was absurd that David would miss the opening of the chess tournament. They had both been in training for weeks to prepare for this. Besides, David had said that he would see Chad later, at the opening. If Chad had stolen a pawn only to find his king in check on the next move, he would have had the same knot in his stomach.

He skidded to a stop in front of room 309 and pounded on it with his fist. The door next to David's opened and a little balding man in a bathrobe stared at him.

"Have you seen the guy who's staying in this room?"

"Sure." He pronounced it 'showa' and Chad had to think for a moment to understand the word. The little man must be a local, a native to New Hampshire. The hotel had been given over entirely to the chess tournament. Why wasn’t this guy at the ceremony?

“When did you see him?"

"I went out to get ice about half an hour ago. He was walkin' off with a towel over his shoulder."

"Did you say a towel? But why—?"

"Hotel's got a pool, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah, but—" Chad stopped what he was saying and turned on his heel. He dashed down the hall while the little man shouted at him to slow down before he hurt himself.

His crashing feet echoed in the empty stairwell until he burst through the door at the bottom. In his haste, he nearly collided with someone. It was one of the tournament officials. "Hey! They’re doing the group picture soon!"

Chad mumbled something and hurried through the empty lobby. He turned the corner and spotted the door to the pool. He stopped with his fingers gripping the handle. Why was he running around like an idiot? Everything was probably fine. It wasn't like David could be in any kind of trouble. Could he? Chad  thought uneasily of the last match they had played, and the last cryptic text message his friend had sent him. He flung back the door and ran into the room.
The floor was slick with wet and he flailed wildly to keep from launching straight into the water. The room was empty, except for one man. He was floating face down in the water. This was why David hadn't come to the opening ceremony. Death had taken his place.

[Hopscotch]

I think the question of whether or not to start with action relates to your target audience's taste but also is essential to everything else that follows.  Your latest rewrite carries no tension and no promise and, action or not, those are essential ingredients.  The last line - the body in the pool - could as well be placed first.  Not for the action(lessness of the corpse) but for promise and tension.  My fave Morse is Colin Dexter's The Silent World of Nicholas Quinn which opens w/a long boring sequence (first line:  "Well?  What do you think?") devoid of action and discussing an absurdly complex bureaucratic issue.  But those absurd details propel all the action that follows and are in themselves the solution to the mystery.  A chess tournament itself is actionless and boring, so Quinn could be a fair model for you. 

[RiverRun]

A chess tournament itself is actionless and boring.

This is a matter of opinion:) I don't find them all that riveting myself, but some people do. I'm more interested in the people who play chess.

I read the look inside of the Morse novel and I think this is a book I would probably read, so you may be right that that's a better direction. Although this particular opening did not have much of a wow factor for me. I read the start of the first book of the series, which was similar in tone but much faster and punchier.
My idea was to try to write openings differently. To write an opening with more immediacy and more suspense than my usual attempts. Something more hip and cool. Clearly I have a lot to learn here.

I thought about Morse and Ngaio Marsh a bit and tried to work out what I might write if I wasn't trying to do something new and different.  I came up with the following. I would be interested to know how it compares to my earlier attempts.

The taxi pulled up to the hotel as if blown in by the autumn wind. A litter of russet leaves curled over the hood and plastered themselves into the already overflowing gutter. Chad had accepted a lift from the airport from Blaine, a fellow competitor, and now he was regretting it. Particularly as they could both see David standing on the front steps, with his fedora pushed back and his eyes on the sky.
Blaine still spoke with a faint french accent, though he had lived in the states for decades. "I think its brave of you, to support David publicly."
Chad avoided eye contact. He always thought it was such a backhanded compliment to call someone 'brave'. It shouldn't be brave to treat people as if you liked them.
"Mind you, I wouldn't stake your reputation on his. After what he did-"
"What he did? You mean what was done to him." Chad hadn't meant to sound so angry, but somehow it was impossible to answer any other way.
His companion raised his palms.
"I think you'll find that a lot of people at this tournament lost money when they invested in chess maestro."
"An investment is always a risk."
"If David hadn't taken so many risks, we might all be a little richer, instead of poorer."
"I wouldn't know. I'm not interested in investments."
Blaine surveyed him coolly. "You probably think you'll be winning tournaments for the rest of your life." With an extra tang of bitterness, he added, "Nice to be young."
Chad looked through the windshield. David still had his face to the sun. He did, in fact, look comfortable in his own skin. He didn't look like a man who had lost half his money when his business venture failed last year. He hardly ever mentioned it.
"Can't win the game if you don't take risks," was about all David had said to him on the subject.
David had been broadly maligned as a crook. There had even been some question of removing his Grand Master status. An absurd suggestion, but rumors like that had a way of sticking around.
In an online interview, Chad had attempted to defend David's integrity. Hence this little confidential 'talk".
"Well," Chad said half-heartedly, when he saw that Blaine was waiting for him to speak. "Thanks for the heads-up."
Blaine raised a palm again, this time in  dismissal. "You've got a good future ahead of you. I've been studying your moves. You've got possibilities." He put his hand on the door handle but paused once more. "Don't waste them."
Chad left the car and took a deep breath of cold air. He loved playing chess more than any thing else in life. But he wasn't sure how he felt about other chess players.
He crossed the steps and shook hands with David.
"Good to see you, brother." He looked hard into Chad's face. " Are you well?"
"I'm fine. Just recovering from a lecture from Blaine Montraine."
David grinned, showing the wrinkles around his eyes. "I feel magnanimous with the whole world on an afternoon like this, even the Blaine Montraines. I think this is going to be a good tournament. I'm feeling good about this week. You?"
"I'm feeling good."
"That's it, brother. Don't let it all get to you. Its not about the stress. Its just about the fun of the game."
A year ago, Chad had seriously considered giving up competitive chess altogether. In spite of some spectacular wins, the stress of the tournaments: the traveling, the interviews, the pressure,  was eating away at his peace of mind. David had turned things around for him, always reminding him of the simple joys of the game.
A nearby knot of fellow competitors drifted in their direction. Chad was beat from traveling all day and said goodbye.
David shook his hand again and Chad turned away. But the older man placed a hand on his arm. He turned back.
"Remember, the most dangerous game your playing is the one in your head."
As Chad walked into the hotel, he couldn't help wondering what on earth David was talking about. He was always saying cryptic things like that. Chad had always chalked it up to a misguided attempt at playing philosopher. But the words would come back to him with cruel significance before the day was done. David would be found floating face down in the hotel pool, and his final game all played out.
 

[Lorri Moulton]

Honestly, I would start with Chad playing chess with David in person.

"You're off your game today," Chad said with a slow smile.

"My mind seems to be elsewhere," David replied, glancing at his watch.  "I don't have much time."

"Somewhere else you need to be?" Chad asked, knowing his friend hated to lose.

"I have to go now," David said.  "I'm going to miss you." He leaned closer to Chad and almost whispered,  "The most dangerous game you’re playing is the one in your head."

Chad woke with a start and looked over at the phone on his nightstand.  Had it buzzed?  He picked it up and glanced at the last text message. Sent a few hours earlier, it was from David.  Chad almost dropped the phone as he read it.  "The most dangerous game you’re playing is the one in your head."

(Probably too Twilight Zone, but it would be a fun way to start.)

[RiverRun]

That's such a good idea that its already been done:) Dorothy Sayers wrote a short story called Striding Folly about a prophetic dream, a chess match and a murder. Its a fun suggestion though.

[Crystal]

Thank you, Crystal. That gave me things to think about!
 But if you come back to this, there are a couple things I don't understand. What is the tv writer trick of starting in act 2?
 I gave up on tv around 15 years ago so examples may be hard to find. Do you mean skipping all that "MC in her ordinary world stuff" that writing books talk about, and starting in on the main conflict at once?

It's pretty simple. Basically, in TV, an episode traditionally starts not at "the beginning of ACT I" but at the inciting incident (halfway through ACT I), or even the start of ACT II. The writers skip all the set up. That's the "typical" structure of a TV drama.

This is actually a more old school idea, from network TV, with an assumption viewers will leave. (Also TV is broken into acts based on commercial breaks). But you might want to try watching a few TV dramas and comparing them to similar films. The TV dramas get to the point much more quickly.

Often, in TV, this is possible because the viewers already know the set up. I don't have to reintroduce Jessica Fletcher in every episode of Murder, She Wrote. People already know she's an author who solves crimes on the side. (And probably kills everyone she "discovers" but that's only a fan theory...)

Even with a comedy, like Friends or Seinfeld, for example, the TV writers don't need to set up the world or characters in a given episode, because the reader knows those. They can start with the problem or stakes of the episode.

You seem to have very specific ideas about what you want from a book when you read it. I feel a little tone deaf in this regard. I know what I like but not how to define it. When you say you like a mystery to start with a body, why do you think that is? Is it because you start right off with trying to solve the puzzle instead of dallying around with irrelevant character detail?

Now that you point it out, I can think of a couple mysteries where I stopped reading or skimmed until the body turned up. Of course there are exceptions, but I guess I should have something amazing as an opening if I deviate from the tried and true.

Yes, that comes with reading a lot, and paying attention to what grabs you and what doesn't. I've read probably 100 books in the mystery, police procedural, courtroom drama, legal thriller* realm in the last few years, often longer series by the same author, so I've gotten a lot of experience in what I like and what I don't. I also watch a lot of these sorts of TV shows.

Some of my subjective preferences in these genres, that I've noticed after many books and shows (and discussed with my mystery writing friends):

Love courtroom dramas. Love clever legal maneuvers. Hate when the "bad guys" have a magic ability to kill all the witnesses without attracting attention so dumb. Love a killer with a good motive. Hate serial killers--hard pass, so boring. Hate when the killer is either evil or psycho (same reason. So boring). I like a more gritty ending, where there's more a question "was justice served" vs "justice was served." I hate when the killer dies by suicide in the end, especially if it's part of a dramatic confrontation with the police (one series I read... the author did this every third book). I like when the killer gets away with it some of the time (across a series; if the detectives always win, that's boring), but that seems rarer in books than in my memories of TV shows.

Some of these I can defend objectively (like the killing witnesses-- not plausible and not really "fair." I want the protagonist and antagonist to be equally matched) and some are just my opinion, but as a reader, I read what I like, and I don't care if other people say something is good or bad. People seem to like serial killers in fiction, for example, but I typically skip those books in a series.

(The Good Wife is my favorite show and it moves F-A-S-T once it's past the "set up stage" of the first half of season one. Seasons 2-4 are really great for the whole "ACT II" thing. A lot of episodes start right with the stakes, then boom, into the action. Not much set up... I can't remember if this is the *right* Death Row episode, but if it is, Nine Hours is a great example. It's like first scene bam "we have nine hours to save this guy's life." It tells me, right away, what the stakes are).

As a romance author, I don't have a writerly stake in the mystery (and related) genre, so I can be more objective and more subjective. I can look at just what I like but I also don't have any feelings about authors.

*IME legal thrillers are typically written as mysteries or as thrillers, with little in between. I don't really like thrillers though I feel like I should, cause I like getting deep in people's heads. I just find most thrillers to be 80k words of meandering thoughts before a reveal that everyone involved is a psycho. Mysteries tend to be more structured, plot wise, with the reveal of information moving the story forward.

It's a cliche, but Law and Order is really great when it comes to openings. The writers build a believable scenario which is interrupted by the discovery of the body. The scenario itself is usually compelling because of some kind of conflict and then the body-- stakes! But ofc we also know that is the setup, so we have a meta knowledge making the experience a little more fun. Readers are pretty genre savvy, but usually subconsciously. If they pick up a mystery they are expecting a body soon, but they will give you more room if whatever happens before the body is compelling.

[PJ Post]

There are a lot of resources online for genre structure. At this point, we definitely have some best practices to at least get us started. And TV/Streaming is a pretty good resource in this regard. Lots of good writing over the last decade or so. And like Crystal said, The Good Wife is one of them. It's a show worth watching, for both entertainment and to see how the sausage is made. And because it's chess related, The Queen's Gambit on Netflix is really good too and has an interesting in medias res opening.

Opening options:

(Thriller opening) - Start with describing David's death through the police crime scene investigation. Here we meet the lead investigator, Chad's nemesis. Narratively, Chad then becomes a person of interest.

(Cozy opening) - Start with Chad's interrogation. The fallout from Chess Maestro would be one of the motivations revealed along the way.

(Commercial fiction opening) - Start with a chess match as prologue, but done in a way that follows Tim's action advice, with Chad as the main character, and with tons of nuanced foreshadowing. It could be between David and Chad, or someone important to Chad's past and his character - just depends on the story. The goal here is to define Chad's character and set the tone. It sounds like you want to do a book on chess, so I'd go with this option.

[Crystal]

It's a very good practice to read 3-5 books in your genre and break down the structure yourself. I find that is a very helpful way of internalizing reader expectations.

The hard part, IMO, is really nailing down the genre, because authors and publishers often label a book incorrectly.

If you are looking to write faster, I would watch network dramas, not streaming dramas. IME, the vast majority of streaming shows are not quickly paced. They typically have what we call "Netflix bloat" as they don't need to keep the pace compelling enough to last week to week... or even over a commercial break. Cable shows are often intentionally slower paced because a slower pace is considered more prestigious, but prestige isn't necessarily good writing. (Fast is not good or bad. Slow is not good or bad. Both are matters of taste and can work well or poorly). Prestige TV is now its own genre with its own genre problems.