By PJ Parrish
I’ll be on a plane to New York when you read this. (Or maybe sitting in Charlotte…it’s not easy getting out of Tallahassee to the rest of the world). I’m off to my annual Edgar Awards duties. I am the chair of the banquet, which is the easy fun part. The hard part of Edgar duties is being a judge.
I’ve never been one but I did judge best first novel for the ITW Thriller Awards one year. Hundreds of books…they just kept coming. In the beginning, it was a trickle but by June it was a deluge. Three-hundred-plus of them by Christmas. I grew to dread the sound of the FedEx truck. And yeah, I read every one of them. Not always to the end, I will admit. But I always gave each book at least 100 pages to find its legs before I assigned it to the “yes” or “maybe” or “not as good as maybe” pile in my office (actually, I had to end up also using the top of my baby grand). Then I had to winnow the “yes” pile (I think it was about thirty books) down to five nominees.
One thing I remember was that all the “yes” books had a good opening. And you know, the principles I applied then to moving a book to the “yes” pile are the same ones I use when I critique one of our First Page submissions. Sure, the published thriller writers had more craft over the course of the entire book than some of our submissions here, but the basic principles behind a good opening were the same.
Yesterday, I was putting together the PowerPoint for the Edgars. As usual, my attention was mainly on the visuals of the covers, which we flash up on a giant screen in the Grand Hyatt ballroom as the nominees as announced. Here is what the Best Novels look like this year:
Nice covers, right? (You can see all the covers in every category on MWA’s Edgar website here). But then I got to wondering, what are they like inside? How do these writers handle the openings of their stories? Just for fun, I thought we could take a peek here today.
The stories include a legal thriller with a tortured heroine who’s fighting the government and her own demons; an Irish thriller about a girl who falls for a convicted serial killer only to find out ten years later he’s not what he seemed; a fixer whose client is a big-time politician with secrets someone will murder to protect; a cop-cum-PI who’s trying to find the man who framed him and cost him his badge; a resurrection of the iconic Philip Marlowe, now 72 and retired in LA; and a Victorian adventuress trying to unravel of web of intrigue at an Egyptian dig.
Here’s the first page (not titled chapter 1, by the way), of Catherine Ryan Howard’s The Liar’s Girl.
This is a tricky opening in that the writer is playing loose with point of view. In the first graph, it feels like we are in Jen’s POV, but by the second graph we realize we are seeing Jen coming to from the POV of the man watching her. This goes on for the whole chapter until she finally staggers out of the party room and he follows her. You just know he’s going to kill her. Or is he? There is a double-spaced scene break and then the title “will, now.” We are in the POV of a man named Will and very slowly we learn he is a patient listening to a radio broadcast about a girl who has been found dead in a canal. And he is concerned that this is related to something that happened to him ten years ago. Other chapters are titled “Alison, now” etc., which recalls the Rashomonesque structure of Gone Girl. You can read the full sample here.
Here is the opening, labeled Prologue, of House Witness by Mike Lawson:
We get about a page more where he says he need to take a walk and his wife tells him it’s too cold and he’s had too much to drink but he insists on going anyway. Then comes this line to end the scene:
John Mahoney had just been told that his son had been killed — and his wife didn’t know he had a son.
Good kicker! The rest of the prologue is Mahoney on his walk, wherein we learn he is the disposed speaker of the House who had an affair years before with an aide Connie. After some extensive backstory, we learn the call was from Connie who tells him their son was shot in a Manhattan bar and berates Mahoney into making sure the dead son’s in-custody killer is convicted. Mahoney thinks about all the mistakes he has made and calls his “fixer” Joe DeMarco. DeMarco calls back the next day and assures Mahoney the killer’s prosecution is a “slam dunk.” The last line of the prologue is “DeMarco was dead wrong.” The chapter 1 goes back to the night the son was murder from the killer’s point of view. This is the 12th book in the Joe Demarco series. But because the Amazon sample is short, I don’t know when the protagonist DeMarco makes his entrance. Read the sample here.
Next up is Chapter 1 of A Gambler’s Jury by Victor Methos.
This scene is a classic introduce-the-protag opening. After this, she goes to see another potential client whose future is so dim, she advises him he should just pack up and high-tail it to Mexico. A brief Chapter 2 takes us to her office, until she decides instead to detour to a bar, where we meet her friend Michelle, the owner. In Chapter 3, it’s the next morning at her apartment where we meet another friend who is concerned about Dani’s lifestyle before Dani goes to another court proceeding. You can read the sample here.
Now take a look at Walter Mosley’s latest, Down The River Unto the Sea.
This first-person point of view narrative is from the protagonist Joe Oliver. He talks about how he’s too influenced by his sex drive and that leads us, after a double-space break to this sentence “Her name was Nathali Malcolm.” (Nice bridge!) So with this type of opening we are firmly in intimate POV in what I suspect might be a cherchez la femme character-driven noir as only a master like Mosley can tell it. Read the sample here.
Speaking of noir, guess who’s back? Philip Marlowe himself in Lawrence Osborne’s resurrection Only To Sleep. Marlowe is 72, retired, and swilling margaritas on his patio when two men walk in with a case that has the Marlowe name written all over it. Osborne’s opening, once it gets going, is redolent of night-blooming jasmine, gin, and that signature rude Chandler wit:
It’s a bit disconcerting to find Marlowe still taking cases from men who “smile with the small contempt of company men” in Reagan-era LA. But it’s fun and the voice is assured. Take a look here.
From Los Angeles in 1988 on to London in 1888. Here’s the opening of our final Edgar Best Novel nominee A Treacherous Curse by Deanna Raybourn:“
Now, if you’ve read my critiques before, you know I don’t like chapters that open with dialogue. This one is, ah, rather interesting. Not just for the sexual word play but because, I think, we get a quick bead on the personalities of our protagonist Miss Veronica Speedwell and her partner-foil Stoker. The chapter continues, after some repartee, with backstory about their partnership and how they’ve come to take on their latest case. The chapter is longish and leisurely in pace. Yet I was pulled in. And I am not a regular fan of historical crime fiction. You can read the sample here.
As I said, I don’t envy the task of judges. There were 595 entries in the Best Novel category this year. That’s a lot of reading and thinking.
So what do you think? Any openings here that would lure you in? I haven’t the foggiest idea who will win Best Novel this year. I never do. But around 10:30 Thursday night, one of these writers is going to be very very happy, holding court in the bar of the Grand Hyatt, clutching an ugly little porcelain statue. Congrats to all the nominees. Well done. Here’s the full list.
Thanks for sharing these openings with us, PJ. Some great writing there and, surprisingly, a couple that seemed (to me, to my taste) heavy and bogged down.
Of course, it’s all about entertainment. As you wrote below one entry after expressing some misgivings, “But it’s fun.”
I can’t tell from this who will win (a great sign) but I think I can tell who won’t. (grin) I’ll be paying attention to see whether I was right.
The LIar’s Girl: This opening captures me. It’s “in media res,” yet gives important background, tells us something about Jen and the observer, and suggests trouble to come.
House Witness: A strong opening. I’m not sure I would stick with it once I learn about John’s secret. Why doesn’t his wife know? I’m not on John’s side, assuming he’s the protag.
A Gambler’s Jury: How can I be on the side of a protag who shows up in court drunk? It’s almost a cliché.
Down the River Unto the Sea: This might be called the “poetic” opening, as opposed to action/disturbance opening. Really has to be done well. Am I assuming it’s done well because it’s Mosley or do I like it on its merits?
Only to Sleep: I’m prejudiced against this because I’m prejudiced against all the efforts these days to ride someone else’s coattails.
A Treacherous Curse: I like this. The irony of the “role reversal” suggests an interesting relationship, especially given the time frame. I would hope that it’s not just bait-and-switch. I like how we learn so much about Stoker via Veronica’s reflection on the contrast between his embarrassment and his worldly experience.
Thanks for weighing in! Hard to reply on my phone but will make effort.
Thanks (or not) for taking me back to the year I judged the Best Paperback Original category. We had “only” about 300+ books to winnow down. It’s a killer job (although our dog truly loved seeing the delivery trucks because most of the drivers gave her treats). I must still be recovering, because I wasn’t enthralled by the first four of these entries but if they hit the final five, the pages beyond must have captivated the judges. Thanks for sharing, and good luck to the finalists. And thanks to the judges. Have fun “regifting” all those books!
Oh don’t remind me about regifting the entries! Luckily we had a local library that was happy to take them.
I enjoyed reading each of the candidates, but by the time I reached the final offering, that was the one that really hooked me. I loved the way it began in the middle of discussion about whether or not the artifact was a phallus and how it reflected the personalities so quickly and lightly. I would definitely want to read the rest of this story,
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Ditto! I liked the heroine right away
I wonder why Lawson didn’t open House Witness with that intriguing line …
John Mahoney had just been told that his son had been killed — and his wife didn’t know he had a son.
Congratulations to all the nominees! One lucky writer’s dreams are about to come true.
Ditto! I liked the heroine right away
Oops. That comment was for previous post. I like your idea of opening with that line!
Sue, I wondered exactly the same thing on that entry, and would have started with exactly the same line.
Haha. Great minds, Harvey!
Kris, wonderful insider’s peek into the Edgar process.
Editors and agents always use the word “subjective” when they’re rejecting your precious manuscript. This sampling demonstrates exactly what “subjective” means.
To me, two were automatic turn-offs, one was a so-so cliche, two were truly intriguing. Yet all were deemed worthy enough to receive the prestigious Edgar nomination.
Struggling authors recognize the dreaded words: “This is not for us but the market is extremely subjective and another agent/editor may feel differently.”
After reading these samples, we should be reassured that rejections are not personal and the market truly is subjective.
Thanks for a great lesson, Kris!
Speaking of being subjective, I like chapters that begin with dialogue. Therefore, I really felt drawn to the last entry. It made me curious to read further.
And while we’re on the subject of dialogue, my interview of James Scott Bell appears on my blog today at
https://kaydibianca.com/2019/04/22/the-craft-of-writing-part-1/
It would mean a lot if you would click over there and leave a comment. Thanks!
For some reason my phone won’t let me go to your link. Am in airport. Bad WiFi I guess. Will try in Charlotte!
thank you!
Oh, this was fun. Thanks for sharing these openers with us, and I hope you do this again–You have a tough job, picking the winner. I’ve read a couple of these books and enjoyed them very much — the Mosley (what’s not to like about Walter) and the Chandler re-boot (I love Mexico; this was a trip)….I, too, had a minor problem with POV in The Liar’s Girl and had to re-read it. In Witness, I like that Mahoney’s Irishness fairly drips off him: the tears, the “big hand,” the patriotism. The repartee in Treacherous Curse is so good, and I liked the humor in Gambler’s. The thing I liked about all of these openers is that I got into the setting right away. I get irritated when I don’t know where I am …
I hear ya! Am traveling today. always irritating when you don’t know where you are. Seriously I too want the locale established quickly. It’s one of the main duties of an effective opening.
Thanks for this, PJ. I liked the last entry best. Congratulations to all the authors, and safe travels to you. Hope this brings back memories of when your book was nominated for an Edgar.
I was so much older then. I’m younger than that now. ?