The First and Last Line of Your Novel

The first and last line of your novel is really the first impression and, hopefully, the lasting impression. The first line should make you say—and then what happened? And the last line should propel you to the author’s blog in search of his/her next novel.

Here are the first and last lines of my  three published novels.

New York City’s night noises seeped through the wall chinks and window: the jingle of horse harnesses, the stomping of hooves, the mournful howl of a dog, but one noise, a noise that didn’t belong, jarred Mercy awake.

 “Mistletoe,” he said, just before he made proper use of it.

From Stealing Mercy.

The Chinook wind stirred the fallen leaves and tossed them around the deserted street.

In her life-time she would never see Sid or Madeleine again, but she saw them every hour of every day in her children’s eyes.

From A Ghost of a Second Chance

Blair brought her finger down on a random word.

She’d be crazy not to.

From The Rhyme’s Library

But what about the between the first and the last lines? What happens then? What fills up all the blank pages?

And what about the gap between where we are and where we want to be? Or where we thought we’d be? Shouldn’t there be a road map somewhere that says You are currently here and here is the path that leads you to where you want to go.

Sometimes, but usually not, we can look at where we are and know where we are headed. And it’s scary to realize—This isn’t it. I thought I wanted this, but I don’t. Why did I work so hard to get here? And maybe it would be gratifying to look back at where we came from and see where we are, but for me, it’s a lot like climbing a mountain. We move minute by minute, one step at a time, with an occasional vista point that takes our breath with the view. And yet the destination still isn’t exactly clear.

I am not my mother, nor am I my mother-in-law, aunt, step-mother or any one of my sisters. My husband is not my dad, nor is he like his dad. He is nothing like his brothers and he is a very different creature from my brothers. When we were raising our children, our goals were very similar to our parents and our siblings, now that our children are raised, that really isn’t any longer true. The between from where we are and where are going is like a walk in an unknown wood. And because no one we know has actually arrived at where we want to go, we’re not sure we’ll like it once we arrive. It would be helpful if someone from the top would say, hurry up—it’s great up here. But I’m wondering where is here? And how do I hurry to an unknown place when I don’t know which road to take?

But maybe it’s like writing a novel. I write the first line, which is followed by the next, and the next and the next until I reach the end. I know the story structure. I love the characters—I’m emotionally invested in each of them. And since I believe in a loving God and a life beyond this one, I’m sure of a happy ending…so maybe all that’s between doesn't really matter so much. Maybe I’m happier walking a road, destination unknown.

The Dash

By Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak

At the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates on her tombstone

From the beginning…to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth

And spoke of the following date with tears,

But he said what mattered most of all

Was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time

That she spent alive on earth

And now only those who love her

Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own,

The cars…the house…the cash.

What matters is how we live and love

And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard;

Are there things you’d like to change?

For you never know how much time is left

That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough

To consider what’s true and real

And always try to understand

The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger

And show appreciation more

And love the people in our lives

Like we never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect

And more often wear a smile…

Remembering that this special dash

Might only last a little while.

So when your eulogy is read

With your life’s actions to rehash

Would you be proud of the things they say

About how you spent your dash?

Story Scenes and Citrus Sections

In my last post I compared character arc to an orange. Today I’ll do the same thing to story structure. Like an orange, a story is made of separate and distinct parts. We call these sections scenes. Each scene, like every novel, needs a character with a goal. There are many scenes within the classic three act story. 

I was taught, and I still believe it to be true, that in a healthy relationship emotional intimacy is closely tied to physical intimacy. If things happen in a civilized manner, physical intimacy progresses hand in hand with emotional intimacy. Interesting, but what does emotional and physical intimacy have to do with writing a book? Well, this synchronization is also important with character development and story structure--the  character arc needs be in sync with the plot's momentum. This is crucial to remember when writing a romance, but it’s important to keep in mind when writing any story. I’ll use my novel The Rhyme’s Library, a mystery, as an example.

Act 1

In the opening scene, Blair's brooding about her bad boyfriend is interrupted by a child who needs help  rescuing a kitten.

Recap: scene 1

We’re introduced to Blair. We empathize with her because we’ve all had a bad boyfriend (or two) and who wouldn't like someone who helps children and small animals?

Scene 2

Blair goes to the basement in search of a box to hold kitten on the drive home and finds her crazy aunt Charlotte’s dead body. This is the inciting incident—or the part of the story that disrupts Blair’s everyday world. This the point of no return.

Scene 3

When Blair realizes that she’s not alone in the library and that the other person in the library maybe responsible for her aunt’s death, she runs. In her hurry she bumps into our hero, Alec Rawlings. This is called the meet-cute—which is not a term for attractive hamburger or a juicy steak. The Urban Dictionary describes the meet-cute as the scenario in which two individuals are brought together in some unlikely, zany, destined-to-fall-in-love-and-be-together-forever sort of way (the more unusual, the better)

Is that the end of Act 1? No. We still need to meet all the other players, the potential murderers, the police, the friends of the library, members of the band and bad boyfriend, Drake. Recap, of Act 1. In Act 1 we introduce Blair, her everyday world and the inciting incident that disrupts her world. Act 1 ends when Blair is pushed off the cliff and she realizes these things:

1.      The police are not going to investigate Charlotte’s death.

2.      Her own sanity and safety are in danger.

3.      Drake is married. (Because, remember, this is just not a novel about discovering who killed Aunt Charlotte, it’s also a story about Blair discovering who she is and what she needs in a healthy relationship.)

Blair comes face to face with Drake’s new wife in the scene immediately following her dive off the cliff, because the character arc and story momentum are hand in hand, just like emotional and physical intimacy.

The first part of Act 2 is sometimes called the wandering phase. This is where Blair needs to do all she can to discover who killed Aunt Charlotte and why. She cleans out the basement, searches for clues, interviews her aunt’s agent, old friends, and suspicious characters. She is learning everything and anything about Aunt Charlotte and possible motives for the murder. Simultaneously, she is also learning about herself.

The second half of Act 2 happens when Blair has learned everything she needs to know. She realizes she’s strong enough and smart enough to catch the killer. . This is her “ha-ha moment." She also confronts Drake and because she’s suspicious of Alec, she gets rid of him as well. (Because, remember, this is not just a story about Aunt Charlotte's murder.) Blair formulates and executes a plan and works beautifully, but the blackmailer is not the killer. This is called the false victory. Watch for it. It happens in almost every action film.

Blair resumes her normal, but of course, there is no peace when murders run loose, and soon Blair meets the killer. Because this is a mystery, there is the final reveal when the killer spills all the secrets and the inevitable black moment, when everything is lost and Blair is looking down the barrel of a gun. Only she can save herself.

Act 3, the dénouement, or final resolution, is where order is restored to Blair’s world. It’s not so different from before, but the murderer has been captured, Blair is stronger, wiser and bad boyfriend free, and because this story has a healthy dose of romance, Blair's story ends with a kiss.

As all good stories should.