AP Wordology: Dissection

I feel as though we should slip into one of those heavy, latex aprons we wore in biology class.  Ick…I can still smell the formaldehyde.  Last week, we tossed out some opening lines.  This week, we’ll start to dissect them to see what work and what does not.

As it was with the unfortunate frogs in class, there was no better way to start than simply diving in…

“No one could have foretold how it was going to end.  Not even the murderer.” -  Murder for Christmas by Francis Duncan.

I was in Barnes and Noble randomly eyeballing books when I stumbled upon this one.  I LOVED it.  I wasn’t planning on purchasing any that particular day, but once I read that opening line the book never returned to the shelf.  As I recall, I actually raced about the store looking for Cliff so I could read it to him.  I half suspect I looked like a contestant on The Price is Right who was just summoned to contestant’s row.

What makes it work?  While not providing a great deal of specific details, it plays upon your curiosity.  Had it simply read “No one could have foretold how it was going to end.” and stopped there, it wouldn’t work.  It would simply sound like a line the late Don LaFontaine would fire off during a trailer for the latest summer blockbuster.  It’s the little jewel tacked on to the end where the magic happens – “Not even the murderer.”  Ooo…suddenly it’s kicked up a notch.  Clearly this isn’t a cut and dry murder.  SOMETHING goes awry.  You have to read on to find out what that something is.

“Our troubles began in the summer of 1914, the year I turned thirty-five.” – Girl Waits With Gun by Amy Stewart.

What makes it work?  You instantly get a year action takes place and age for narrator right out of the gate.  You know it involves others from the “Our” and continuous action from “troubles” – plural.  We also know that it was summertime.  Amy is able to convey a great deal of information in a single sentence.  As you continue on, the seeds planted in the opening line blossom.  An excellent way to kick off an adventure!

“It was five o’clock on a winter’s morning in Syria.” – Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie.

Why it doesn’t work for me?  First of all, let me say that I know this is Agatha Christie.  She’s only been outsold by The Bible and William Shakespeare so she clearly she knows how to write.  I want to enjoy her work.  I feel as though I should enjoy her work.  Yet, sadly, I’m put off by the pacing.  I recall being at book club one evening and hearing an audible gasp from those around the table at the mention of not enjoying Christie. 

Hear me out.  From the line, I see it is 5:00.  It’s winter.  And we’re in Syria.  I’m not feeling any pull or intrigue to continue.  I realize the vagueness of the line could lead to any number of possibilities, but this one truly left me lacking.  It’s a slow open to me – which leads to my larger challenge in reading her work – the pace.  Perhaps back when readers didn’t have a million television channels and the internet to choose from, a lovely – and slow burning – read was just what the doctor ordered.  Like the opening line, I often find her stories taking the long way around.  I’d be curious for your thoughts and feedback on this one.

“There was going to be a funeral.” – The Magpie Murders by Anthony Horowitz.

What makes it work?  It’s an ambiguous first line.  Is there going to be a funeral in the sense of someone has already died and a funeral has been planned.  Or something more…sinister.  Perhaps no one has died yet, but a funeral is certainly on deck for someone.  This certainly doesn’t pack the detail that some of the others we’ve reviewed has, but with a line that can have multiple meanings, it gives it a far greater depth than may appear.

“It was nearing midnight when one of the new lampposts on Auburn Avenue achieved the unfortunate fate of being the first to be hit by a car.” – Dark Town by Thomas Mullen.

What makes it work?  Well, a car accident is always a way to capture interest.  Think of the times you’ve been held up in traffic because of folks rubber necking as they slowly pass by a scene.  

Beyond that, we know it’s midnight.  It’s fairly safe to say this wasn’t someone returning home from buying eggs and milk at the grocery store at that hour.  We’re not on a nameless street somewhere – we’re on Auburn Avenue.  It may not conjure up a strong image, but using the proper name of the street helps to anchor it.  Along the same lines of “he was eating ice cream” vs. “he was eating pistachio ice cream” – that one extra word helps you see it a bit more clearly and make a more personal connection.

We are halfway through the list, readers!  Let's take some time to digest what we've covered so far and we'll reconvene next Monday as we bring this topic to a close.