Category: Opening Lines Page 4 of 5

Opening Lines – Staked by Kevin Hearne

Head & Shoulders used to tell us that, “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” That’s true for wearing dark shirts, and it’s especially true for books. Sometimes the characters will hook the reader, sometimes the premise, sometimes it’s just knowing the author — but nothing beats a great opening for getting a reader to commit. This is one of the better openings I’ve read recently. Would it make you commit?

I didn’t have time to pull off the heist with a proper sense of theatre. I didn’t even have a cool pair of shades. All I had was a soundtrack curated by Tarantino playing in my head, one of those songs with horns and a fat bass track and a guitar going waka-chaka-waka-chaka as I padded on asphalt with the uncomfortable feeling that someone was enjoying a voyeuristic close-up of my feet.

from Staked by Kevin Hearne

Opening Lines – My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry

Head & Shoulders used to tell us that, “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” That’s true for wearing dark shirts, and it’s especially true for books. Sometimes the characters will hook the reader, sometimes the premise, sometimes it’s just knowing the author — but nothing beats a great opening for getting a reader to commit. This is one of the better openings I’ve read recently. Would it make you commit?

Every seven-year-old deserves a superhero. That’s just how it is. Anyone who doesn’t agree needs their head examined.

That’s what Elsa’s granny says, at least.

Elsa is seven, going on eight. She knows she isn’t especially good at being seven. She knows she’s different. Her headmaster says she needs to “fall into line” in order to achieve “a better fit with her peers.” Other adults describe her as “very grown-up for her age.” Elsa knows this is just another way of saying “massively annoying for her age,” because they only tend to say this when she corrects them for mispronouncing “déjà vu” or not being able to tell the difference between “me” and “I” at the end of a sentence. Smart-asses usually can’t, hence the “grown-up for her age” comment, generally said with a strained smile at her parents. As if she has a mental impairment, as if Elsa has shown them up by not being totally thick just because she’s seven. And that’s why she doesn’t have any friends except Granny. Because all the other seven-year-olds in her school are as idiotic as seven-year-olds tend to be, but Elsa is different.

She shouldn’t take any notice of what those muppets think, says Granny. Because all the best people are different–look at superheroes. After all, if superpowers were normal, everyone would have them.

from My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrik Backman

It was really hard to stop where I did, I wanted to use the first three pages, but am pretty sure that it’d get me in copyright trouble.

Opening Lines – If I Fall, If I Die

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book

The boy stepped Outside, and he did not die.

He was not riddled with arrows, his hair did not spring into flame, and his breath did not crush his lungs like spent grocery bags. His eyeballs did not sizzle in their sockets, and his heart’s pistons did not seize. No barbarian lopped his head into a blood-soggy wicker basket, and no glinting ninja stars were zinged into his throat.

Actually, incredibly: nothing happened–no immolation, no blood-bath, no spontaneous asphyxiation, no tide of shivery terror crashing upon the shore of his heart–not even a trace of his mother’s Black Lagoon in his breath.

Somehow Will was calm.

from If I Fall, If I Die by Michael Christie

Provoke Not The Children by Michael W. Anderson

Provoke Not The ChildrenProvoke Not The Children

by Michael W. Anderson


Kindle Edition, 348 pg.
Amazon Digital Services, Inc., 2014
Read: August 27 – 31, 2014

Some dystopian futures seem plausible — even inevitable — 1984, The Hunger Games; while others seem impossible — Divergent, Red Rising. Anderson’s world is possibly the most plausible I’ve read.

In this future U. S., parents are no longer responsible for the day-to-day raising, nurturing, or educating of their children (they are still responsible for paying for all that). Instead, they entrust their children to the care of Proxies. Proxies are professional child-raisers. The idea is that these people know exactly what an individual child needs for full academic, social, psychological and physical progress and health, and are far better suited to ensuring children receive this care than an y parent could hope to. So after years and years of more and more parents turning to this option, it becomes mandatory for all children in the U. S. to be handed over to the professionals.

What do parents do with all this time they’re not, you know, parenting? Why, they’re making themselves the best possible versions of themselves that they can. Kids just get in the way of paying attention to yourself, your career, your well-being, and so on. (other than having someone to show off at parties and to inherit what you have left, I’m not sure what the point is to having kids in this world — but let’s just assume the biological imperatives win out or something.)

Now, with a government mandate of this size, regulations are going to come into play. And where there are regulations, you need people to enforce them. Enter our hero, Chase Stern. Chase is a Proxy Review Officer — he travels the Northwest working to make sure that children are being cared for by Proxies, and that the Proxies are doing things right.

Naturally, not all are. In fact, there’s a very disturbing number of Proxies getting away with fraud, abuse, and neglect. Chase blows the proverbial whistle on this unpleasant truth and is first publicly pilloried for this, but that soon turns into the opportunity for Chase to be part of the reforms of the Proxy Industry. The cure proposed may turn out to be worse for society as a whole, and the children in particular, than the disease.

Great premise, right? Hard to go wrong with a setup like that.

And yet, Anderson doesn’t quite pull it off. He’s close. I don’t think he was ready to write characters and a story to go with ideas this big quite yet. The pacing was strange at times, and I think the book would’ve been better served if we’d gotten to see more of the process involved — not just opening chapters with a “In the months/years since the end of the last chapter, many things happened”-type summary. Also, there’s a whole lot more telling than showing going on here, his characters gave a lot of speeches. Not quite as bad as Asimov in Foundation*, but along the same lines.

The biggest problem with this book is the characters. They’re flat. They’re not people. The novel is entirely from Chase’s perspective and he comes closest to being a person. But even he’s flat. There’s no growth, nothing other than his crusade to reform. Yes, Chase had been the kind of parent who was in a rush to get his kids Proxied so that he could fulfill himself, and then something happens and he changes into the kind of guy who cares about the welfare of children. Whatever changes he goes through — say, learning how to lobby congresspeople — just appear in between chapters.

That said, Maria, is one of the — I want to say evil, but she’s too shallow for that. Maria’s about the most wretched, vile, hateful character I’ve ever read (her husband, Conrad, is about as bad — but he does less, so maybe he’s just a self-centered twit, not a force for all that is wrong with the world). There are a couple of other characters here that are more actively malicious, too. Still, they’re all little more than amalgamation of characteristics. But Anderson has trouble with the white hat characters. Perhaps he understands human nature too well for that.

There was a very unfortunate typo in the edition I read — and I was taken out of the scene during the climatic confrontation. I’ve emailed the author and he said he’d be fixing it. That’s the big advantage of self-publishing ebooks. Anton Strout, for example, tells the story about someone pointing out a similar problem in one of his fight scenes years after the publication, which will remain in the paperbacks. Anderson’s error is gone. Welcome to the 21st century.

Provoke Not the Children had a killer concept, and a chilling world that you’ll keep thinking about for days. The story’s almost, but not quite where it needs to be. I still recommend it in the end, but don’t expect too much from the narrative. I expect in a book or two, Anderson’s execution will match his world-building.


* I remember that being very speech-filled, I think that’s even talked about in the forward Asimov wrote in the edition I last read 20+ years ago. Hope I’m not wrong about that, it’s just the best example I could come up with at the moment. Besides, being compared to Asimov in Foundation should be seen as a compliment.

—–

3 Stars

Hostile Takeover by Shane Kuhn

Hostile TakeoverHostile Takeover

by Shane Kuhn
Series: John Lago Thriller, #2

Hardcover, 246 pg.

Simon & Schuster, 2015

Read: August 24, 2015


John Lago is back, folks — and he picks up right where he left off, with some of the most adrenaline and testosterone-fueled writing you’ll come across this year. That may not be your cup of tea.

Hostile Takeover is one of those sequels I didn’t think needed to exist. Seriously, who was dissatisfied with where things ended up for Lago? It was narratively sufficient as it was — but as the opening lines of this book could’ve literally been the next page in The Intern’s Handbook, it’s hard to complain.

So, John decides to tie up two loose ends: 1. Alice and 2. HR, Inc. He marries Alice and the two take over HR but it doesn’t take too long (at least not many pages) before both of those go wrong — they break up and she kicks him out of the company (not really spoiler material, folks, it’s in the Jacket Copy). John switches to Plan B, the complete destruction of both. Which is not the most mature of plans, you’ve got to admit.

Which is the bulk of the book — John going undercover again, John trying (and/or being the target of) elaborate assassination schemes, great fight scenes and enough munitions used to make Michael Bay choke. All delivered in that movie-obsessed, rapid-fire (no pun intended) narration that won over so many fans before.

I thoroughly enjoyed, have used already, and will continue to do so, Lago’s comments on the movie Fletch. It was that line that reminded me how much I liked the first book.

Did I enjoy this as much as The Intern’s Handbook? Nope. Only because it didn’t blow me away with it’s freshness. But it’s a worthy sequel, as good as it’s predecessor and leaves me wanting more. An intense, fast read — buckle up and enjoy the ride.

—–

4 Stars

I Am Princess X by Cherie Priest (Kali Ciesemier, Illustrator)

I Am Princess X I Am Princess X

by Cherie Priest, Kali Ciesemier, Illustrator

Hardcover, 227 pg.
Arthur A. Levine Books, 2015

Read: June 4, 2015

This book starts off just like the book description tells you — it’s practically an outline of the first 40 pages. Somehow, even if all they were doing was fulfilling the book jacket copy, the opening chapters sucked me in more and more with each detail until the last sentence on page 35. That line was just creepy. At that point, I put my finger in the book to save the page, called to my daughter (who’d showed minor interest on the book) and told her that unless Priest screwed things up, she had to read this (and seriously , what were the odds of Priest doing that?).

Years after the death of her best friend, Libby, May starts to see drawings around town of something the two had created together (and no one else knew about). How is that possible? She does everything she can to find out, but that doesn’t tell her anything other than that there’s a (pretty popular) webcomic out there starring their creation. There’s a self-proclaimed computer guru (Patrick — he prefers Trick, though) living a few floors below her dad that May hires/cons into going the extra technological mile for her. Their investigation doesn’t remain online, and before long the two are running all over Seattle. They dance between employer/employee; condescending college-aged twerp/younger, slightly naive teen; pals throughout in a way that seems organic and real. It’s probably the most realistic thing in the book after the death of Libby. While I’m talking about them — the hijinks the pair get into in the cemetery result in either the funniest or the grossest line of dialog I’ve read this year. Possibly both.

This isn’t the kind of comic/prose hybrid that Jeff Kinney, James Patterson, Stephen Pastis, etc. are doing — Priest uses the comic pages (taken from the fictional webcomic) to further the plot, to help us see what May and Trick are reading/seeing. Rather than trying to describe (and likely not succeeding all that often) a series of panels and the artwork, we just get them. Shorter, sweeter, to the point. A great merger of the two media. Ciesemier’s art is spot-on, I could easily read a webcomic she draws.

This is a YA novel with no love triangle, no romantic love period — that’s practically enough of a sales pitch for me right there. Friendship — that’s the emotional core driving this. The old friendship between Libby and May, that death hasn’t changed too much; the budding friendship between May and Trick, and another one that’s in spoiler territory. Nowhere along the lines is there even a whiff of anything else between these characters. What a breath of fresh air! There’s some actual parenting (not perfect, but humans trying) along the line, too — a couple of pretty good dads — something else I don’t see a lot in YA. So yay there, too.

It’s an implausible story grounded in three real characters (May, Trick and May’s dad) — and a couple of others that could have been as grounded if we’d gotten a few more pages from them. For the story this is trying to tell? That’s just enough to carry it.

We see the villain enough to find him threatening and somewhat believable, learn enough about him to support that, but not enough that we can develop any sympathy for him — he’s mostly shadow, which frequently feels like under-writing or a cheat by the author. But here it felt like a device to underline the threat he poses.

This is pure escapist adventure reading — no muss, no fuss, no frills. The story matches the medium of a webcomic pretty well. Sure, it could’ve been a deeper, more reflective novel — or even a slightly more realistic one. But it doesn’t need to be. Have I rated better written/constructed novels lower than this? Oh yeah. But this novel was exactly everything it promised to be, everything it needed to be. This grabbed me from the start and didn’t let go until it was done.

As an added bonus for people like me, I’m pretty sure there’s a tip o’ the hat to Robert B. Parker in these pages. That just brought a smile to my face.

—–

—–

4 1/2 Stars

The Fold by Peter Clines

Sigh. Vacation took more out of me than I thought, it took me far too long to get this written. I really hoped that I could get caught up this week. Oh well…

The FoldThe Fold

by Peter Clines

Hardcover, 372 pg.
Crown, 2015
Read: June 4 – 5, 2015
If you’ve ever wanted an episode of Fringe with more contemporary pop-culture references and a more obvious sense of humor — yet with all the mind-bendy science and disturbing images, this just might be the book for you.

Reggie Magnus is in a bind — he’s some muckety-muck in DARPA and a secret project he’s been funding to develop teleportation has diverged a bit from its original design and started generating unbelievable results. At the same time . . . he knows something’s just not right out there at the development facility — he has no idea what’s wrong, but he knows something is. What’s a guy to do? Well, considering that he’s spent billions (yup, with a “b”) on this project, he needs to make sure he delivers something. Thankfully, Reggie’s got a genius friend with a few months free to send out to California, see what’s going on — hopefully fix the problem and help Reggie to justify the budget for this program.

Enter Mike (Leland Erikson, actually, but he answers to Mike — long story). He is a genius, with a photographic memory (a frighteningly detailed one), a curious streak a mile wide, and….three months off to do this since he’s a High School English teacher just done for the summer. So, he goes to California, meets some legendary scientists (and a few others no one has head of), and then excitement ensures.

While I was reading the second chapter, I scrawled the note: “The tonal shift between chaps 1 & 2 was enough to give me Whiplash (and I’m talking the kind where J K Simmons slaps you repeatedly, not the kind you get a TV lawyer to help with). Think it bodes well for the book.” And it did. After the jarring sensation between the first two chapters (think of the typical NCIS/Bones/etc. type opening wherein someone going about their routine, daily life stumbles on to a body before we join our heroes bantering around the office), things calmed down. The plot unwinds at a good pace — building up a good head of steam until everything goes cuckoo bananas. Eventually, all the pieces come together — but the explanation doesn’t end things, it only sets up a action-packed, mind-scrambling conclusion.

Like Mike, we get a nice orientation to the research facility and its team. Most come thi-i-i-i-s close to being right out of Central Casting, but Clines tweaks them just enough to keep them from being a frightening cliché. Ditto for Reggie, actually. This is not to say that Clines spends all that much time fully developing these characters — he comes close with Dr. Arthur Cross and Jamie Parker.

Jamie’s your basic attractive blond with severe emotional issues, when she’s not being a ultra-professional uber-computer scientist, that is. Dr. Cross is the 4th most popular scientist in the world — behind Neil deGrasse Tyson, Stephen Hawking and Bill Nye. He writes books for popular audiences and heads up research projects like this one (to over-do the Fringe comparisons, he’s William Bell). When he’s not being dark and mysterious, he’s the kind of scientist you want to learn from, dropping lines like: “Almost any concept or idea in the world can be expressed through comparison with a classic Warner Bros. cartoon,” and then goes on to demonstrate just that.

Actually, it may not be character development. Those two might be the characters we spend the most time with. This sounds like a criticism, but it’s not really. It’s not that type of book, all it requires are characters to move the plot along, not people you get too invested in.

Now, Mike is another story, he’s fully fleshed out. He is sort of a Robert Langdon type character — brilliant, in the right place at the right time, driven, and courageous enough to jump into danger, yada yada yada. — but with one significant difference: I liked Mike from the moment I met him, and I never, not for one sentence (over two books) liked Langdon. He’s charming, down-to-earth (in his own way), and is desperate just to be a regular guy. It’s hard not to respond to that.

It’s an engaging story, told well, filled with likeable characters doing out-of-this-world things. Solid SF work. Give this one a shot.

Disclaimer: I received this book from the nice folks over at Blogging for Books for this review. Not sure they got their money’s worth, but I came out pretty good on the deal.

—–

4 Stars

Opening Lines – Kickback

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book

On the first day of February, the coldest day of the year so far, I took it as a very good omen that a woman I’d never met brought be a sandwich. I had my pair of steel-toed Red Wings kicked up on the corner of my desk, thawing out, when she arrived. My morning coffee and two corn muffins were a distant memory.

She laid down the sandwich wrapped in wax paper and asked if my name was Spenser.

“Depends on the sandwich.”

“A grinder from Coppa in the South End,” she said. “Extra provolone and pickled cherry peppers.”

“Then my name is Spenser,” I said. “With an S like the English poet.”

“Rita said you were easy.”

“If you mean Rita Fiore, she’s not one to judge.”

from Kickback by Ace Atkins


(technically, not the opening lines, but this is the beginning of Chapter 1, so it sorta counts)

Saturday Miscellany – 2/7/15

Grawlix! If I didn’t know better, I’d say that The Universe, The Matrix, Loki, Coyote, Murphy’s Law or the Greek ghost Thespis was messing with me and keeping me from getting anything written or posted here. I’m a little stunned that I got this compiled, really. Hopefully, next week will be better.

Here are some odds ‘n ends over the week about books and reading that caught my eye. You’ve probably seen some/most/all of them, but just in case:

    This Week’s New Releases I’m Excited About and/or You’ll Probably See Here Soon:

  • Funny Girl by Nick Hornby — Hornby continues to explore celebrity, this time in the 1960’s with an up and coming actress. Not really what I’d have expected from him next, but I’m not sure what I did expect.
  • The Way Into Darkness by Harry Connolly — the Third and final installment in The Great Way saga. Hearing so many good things about this one already!
  • Covenant’s End by Ari Marmell — bittersweet — a new Widdershins Adventure, but sadly, it’s the last.

Lastly, I’d like to say hi and welcome to abhinavmajumder for following the blog this week. Thanks to Theinexorablenerd for the interaction.

Opening Lines – Near Enemy

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. Technically, I’m cheating here — I skipped the first eight lines (Chapter 1), this is from Chapter 2, but it’s my blog so I can ignore my own rules, right?

Dare you not to read the rest of the book

—–

This used to be a city of locks.
Every home, at least five, down the door, like a vault.
Chain lock.
Rim lock.
Fox lock.
Knob lock.
Deadbolt.
Funny name, that last one.
Dead. Bolt.
Neither word exactly conjures security.
But no one bothers with that many locks in New York anymore. City’s safer. Or at least emptier. No end of vacancies. And no one bothers to burgle anymore. Nothing left to burgle. Everything’s picked clean, and anyone who still lives in Manhattan and has something of real value to protect — family, dignity, vintage baseball-card collection — does it with a shotgun, not a deadbolt. So the real problem, for the burglar, isn’t getting in. It’s getting back out.
After all, if you apply enough force, deadbolts give.
Shotguns take.

from Near Enemy by Adam Sternbergh

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