In The Beginning
- Once upon a time.
- Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
- Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice “without pictures or conversations?”
- Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome.
- Did you hear the one...
Beginnings need to pull you in right from the start. Think of them like chat up lines but less sucky than, ‘do you come here often.’
Authors, bloggers and many people who ever need to write have told me of the stress caused by those first few words/lines. For some it becomes so crippling they gaze at the screen or sheet of paper and lament on the condition un-lovingly referred to as ‘writer’s block’.
Well, I have a secret for you. You do not need to get it right or correct first time. In fact, and here’s the biggie, you do not even have to write the beginning at the beginning.
There I’ve said it. My name is Barbara and I write out of order.
They tend to write themselves when the muse is in residence.
Here are a few more beginnings:
Misery Stephen King
yerrrrnnn umber whunnnn
These sounds: even in the haze
A couple from Dr Suess
The Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The Cat in the Hat
the sun did not shine.
it was too wet to play.
so we sat in the house
all that cold, cold, wet day.
A couple from me:
Past Life Tourism
Once upon a time there was a little girl called Barbara. She lived in an ivory tower singing like an angel while the birds and little animals came in the house to talk to her. Life was blissful and – insert screeching skid noise – oh no, that wasn’t me! Of course that was Snow White and actually my life was, is, more Alice in Wonderland. Plus, I can’t sing.
The Psychic Way
I'm in a saloon. There are cowboys sitting about drinking and playing cards. It is noisy and the warm air smells of beer, horses and sweat. There is a mirror across the wall, behind the shot bottles, and spittoons are in the corners. To the right of the bar is a wooden staircase leading up to the bedrooms. No secrets here.
A good way to tune in to your creativity is to write possible beginnings without necessarily having anything else in mind.
If looks could kill he’d be dead several times over. I wish.
Fail. What do you mean, fail?
As the ferry docked Jayne screwed up eyes through the glaring sun at the people waiting to greet the arrivals. Her thumping heart deafened her thoughts.
How will you start yours?
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