"The beginning. That's usually a decent place to start."
How many times has my band had the conversation? The conductor will tell us to play a piece and someone, someone will have to ask, "Where do we start?" The beginning, you primitive creature! Just kidding.
So I have a problem. I am not one to waste energy or time. If they story makes sense without it, it's not going in. I know, not exactly the best trait for an author. I have a habit of rushing through the beginning and taking way to long in the middle, then wrapping up abruptly.
First of all, the beginning is as important as the middle. Set it up right, you get a great plot. Lure in your readers and you are sure to be a bestseller, no matter how bad the story is.
I once read a book. Well, sort of skimmed the pages. The beginning was awful, boring, only one character, and I plain fell asleep. After you got past the sleepable beginning, it was pretty good. Actually really good.
The beginning is what we judge a book by. That and it's cover. Make sure you do it right!
Second off, does any one have a suggestion that might make me write my beginnings with more detail? Suggestions will be greatly appreciated.
Thirdly, Doctor Who and Merlin use the beginnings to set up the whole story. How do they do that so well? I tried to do that and, well, judge for yourself.
Abruptly the footsteps stopped. I felt the ground shudder, and imagined the red-eyed beast with huge fangs slowly turning around, hungry for meat and blood.
I began shaking, probably sobbing, but I didn’t know. I only thought about how this was my death. Goodbye, Kalì Doubleblade. Goodbye Miles Nevershoot. Goodbye Deynira Oldone. In my mind, I said goodbye to everyone in my tribe. The girl I never spoke to, the boy who taunted me, every Old One; all these I remembered, hoping somehow someone would know I was gone. Forever. With these thoughts in mind, I faced the beast.
At least I assumed I was facing the beast. The darkness clouded all vision from my eyes. I looked for the glowing red eyes, but found none. I listened for the ragged panting of the beast, tired from it’s hunting. And it’s hunting was about to be over, with me as the main course. I sniffed, inhaling not the smell of a carnivorous bloodthirsty beast, but just the familiar woody forest smell. Then I felt it. The light breeze of something brushing past you, close enough to create a breeze but not touch you. Or something raising it’s arm to swing at something. Particularly me.
The thought came a fraction to late. I was knocked of my feet with the force of the blow, and for a while all I felt was shock. The burning pain stung seconds later. Great. First a blee sting and now this! My life right now can’t get any worse, I thought. But you have to be carful when you say that, because I can promise you, life always gets worse. Cursing, I twisted my head around, trying to make out at least the silhouette of the beast, but darkness was the only thing that greeted my eyes. Strangely enough, no subsequent attack followed. Pushing myself up, I frantically hunted for my dagger, so as to protect me, which now hidden in the dead leaves.
Dead leaves? Why would dead leaves be here; it’s not even …Oh wait, a second. There was still two months till the Days of the Trees. I left the tribe two months ago. That makes it…the Days of the Trees! The Tree Days Festival was already here. All at once, information flooded my mind, making connections faster than I had followed the information. I thought of all that I knew about the Tree Day Festival. Gālians celebrate the Tree Days Festival, making offerings of water and seeds. They then would plant the seeds of offering in a circle around our village every Festival, to keep the trees from going to extinction. The trees would in turn thank us with their leaves for our fires and the fruit for our tables. That night, a great bonfire composed of their own leaves would be lit, and it would stay lit all through the Festival. The bonfire would commemorate the Days of the Trees. Suddenly, I knew what my attacker was.
My attacker was a tree.
So I have a problem. I am not one to waste energy or time. If they story makes sense without it, it's not going in. I know, not exactly the best trait for an author. I have a habit of rushing through the beginning and taking way to long in the middle, then wrapping up abruptly.
First of all, the beginning is as important as the middle. Set it up right, you get a great plot. Lure in your readers and you are sure to be a bestseller, no matter how bad the story is.
I once read a book. Well, sort of skimmed the pages. The beginning was awful, boring, only one character, and I plain fell asleep. After you got past the sleepable beginning, it was pretty good. Actually really good.
The beginning is what we judge a book by. That and it's cover. Make sure you do it right!
Second off, does any one have a suggestion that might make me write my beginnings with more detail? Suggestions will be greatly appreciated.
Thirdly, Doctor Who and Merlin use the beginnings to set up the whole story. How do they do that so well? I tried to do that and, well, judge for yourself.
*********************
I
had been walking for at least another minute when I realized something had to
be wrong. I stopped, puzzled. The loud footsteps continued to rapidly approach,
and with each footfall, my heart jumped to my throat. I slowly turned toward
the direction of the great beast, knowing I could not find a tree in this
darkness before the beast was upon me. I slid my hand into my jacket, where I
pulled out my familiar dagger, a present from my deceased father. Holding it
over my head, I shouted: “Gālian et withÿ!” For
Gāliana and glory!
Abruptly the footsteps stopped. I felt the ground shudder, and imagined the red-eyed beast with huge fangs slowly turning around, hungry for meat and blood.
I began shaking, probably sobbing, but I didn’t know. I only thought about how this was my death. Goodbye, Kalì Doubleblade. Goodbye Miles Nevershoot. Goodbye Deynira Oldone. In my mind, I said goodbye to everyone in my tribe. The girl I never spoke to, the boy who taunted me, every Old One; all these I remembered, hoping somehow someone would know I was gone. Forever. With these thoughts in mind, I faced the beast.
At least I assumed I was facing the beast. The darkness clouded all vision from my eyes. I looked for the glowing red eyes, but found none. I listened for the ragged panting of the beast, tired from it’s hunting. And it’s hunting was about to be over, with me as the main course. I sniffed, inhaling not the smell of a carnivorous bloodthirsty beast, but just the familiar woody forest smell. Then I felt it. The light breeze of something brushing past you, close enough to create a breeze but not touch you. Or something raising it’s arm to swing at something. Particularly me.
The thought came a fraction to late. I was knocked of my feet with the force of the blow, and for a while all I felt was shock. The burning pain stung seconds later. Great. First a blee sting and now this! My life right now can’t get any worse, I thought. But you have to be carful when you say that, because I can promise you, life always gets worse. Cursing, I twisted my head around, trying to make out at least the silhouette of the beast, but darkness was the only thing that greeted my eyes. Strangely enough, no subsequent attack followed. Pushing myself up, I frantically hunted for my dagger, so as to protect me, which now hidden in the dead leaves.
Dead leaves? Why would dead leaves be here; it’s not even …Oh wait, a second. There was still two months till the Days of the Trees. I left the tribe two months ago. That makes it…the Days of the Trees! The Tree Days Festival was already here. All at once, information flooded my mind, making connections faster than I had followed the information. I thought of all that I knew about the Tree Day Festival. Gālians celebrate the Tree Days Festival, making offerings of water and seeds. They then would plant the seeds of offering in a circle around our village every Festival, to keep the trees from going to extinction. The trees would in turn thank us with their leaves for our fires and the fruit for our tables. That night, a great bonfire composed of their own leaves would be lit, and it would stay lit all through the Festival. The bonfire would commemorate the Days of the Trees. Suddenly, I knew what my attacker was.
My attacker was a tree.
********************
Happy Writing!
J.M
ENTS! Yayayayay! Ents are so cool!
ReplyDeleteTo answer your question under "second off", I have to say this:
Movies are waaay different than books when it comes to introductions. With some chillin' music and a wide panning shot, you can stuff in description that would take PAGES to describe. The Jason Bourne movies, for example, do that specifically - white letters on bottom, helicopter shot, then straight to action.
I personally prefer action first, just as you have done, then description later. Let the reader know night/day, cold/hot, and how many people are in the scene, but let the writing do that itself.
e.g. Eriana was shivering in the dark chill of night as she glanced at her sole companion Julia.
One sentence, lots of description. If the above sentence was the beginning to my story, I would then move straight to action. Does that make sense?
Then again, we all have our preferences, and you worked yours out very nicely! :))) I can't wait to keep reading! :D
Thanks! I will try that! And the first chapter to Dead Earth will be out in a week or two...it's taking longer to write than I thought.
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