Common Mistake #1 ... Starting a Story With the Mundane
In all writing, how you start the story is a make-or-break moment.
For my own writing, I’ve handled first sentences in two ways:
I freeze with panic and never share a great piece of writing because I can’t get the beginning just right; or
I publish my work with a super sloppy intro because I’m in the throes of writer burnout and don’t give af. Lots of writers (myself included) get frozen with panic because the first line carries so much weight.
Not the most graceful or effective of strategies. But for my work as an editor, I've learned how to take that mission-critical first sentence (or first two or three, more realistically) and turn it into something readers absolutely can't turn away from.
First, here’s what “starting a story with the mundane” looks like:
“I just love summertime.”
“The coffee tasted great this morning.”
“The school year is such a busy time!”
Unless there is a drastic twist in the very next line, these sentences have just sent your readers packing. It’s your job to grab their attention, and openers like these don’t get the job done. Effective, attention-grabbing openers can look different between genres, but often they include something I don’t see coming or take something regular and add a twist. I’ll be posting some examples in the comments below.
📝 How do you approach the first lines of a piece? Do beginnings make you nervous or paralyzed, even? Is there an essay you’re particularly proud of? Share this piece and tell us about it.
Example 2:
The first time I saw him, he couldn’t have been more than 16 years old, a little ferret of a kid, sharp and quick. Sammy Glick. Used to run copy for me. Always ran. Always looked thirsty.
“What Makes Sammy Run,” bestseller from 1941 by Budd Schulburg
(not a client... haha)
Every once in awhile someone will tell me that I have a great opening sentence, and I'm surprised. I usually end up with my first sentence by trimming away the unnecessary stuff I wrote in the beginning before I got into the actual point of the piece. In my old writer's group, they used to call that unnecessary stuff "throat clearing." It's what you write when you're getting ready to write. Or, if possible, I just move my best sentence to the top and call that my starting point. For pieces that are really important to me, I've rewritten the openings maybe 30 or 40 times, maybe more. Nothing ever seems good enough.